The Wolfe (45 page)

She straightened her dress and
cocked a determined eyebrow; poor Ranulf was in for a test of wills.

“Sir Ranulf,” she began pleasantly. “What
say ye to letting Jemma and I go for a walk?”

He frowned at her. “‘Tis much too sticky,
my lady.”

She strolled casually to him, hands
clasped behind her back. When she got within a foot or so, she stopped and
raised her chin quite firmly. “Not if the walk is to the lake so that we may go
swimming.”

His bushy auburn brows rose. “Outside
the gate? I think not, my lady.”

She continued to fix him with a firm
stare. “But I wish it.”

Oh, lord
, Ranulf thought.
Here
she goes
. He had heard she was a strong-willed lass, but he had yet to see
her display herself because of her weakened condition. Apparently she was
feeling up to par, and he braced himself.

“Then I do apologize for denying
your request,” he said. “But swimming is out of the question.”

“Why?”

Unlike the other younger knights,
Ranulf had a little more control when it came to dealing with women. He would
not fold as easily. Mayhap that was the wisdom of William’s choice in letting
him remain behind to guard her.

“Because ‘twould be too difficult to
see to your safety, my lady,” he replied evenly.

“Then bring more men,” Jordan
suggested. “‘Twill make yer job much easier to have yer flanks covered, then ye
can concentrate on me.”

He shook his head. “Nay, my lady, I
must still refuse.”

She was not about to give up. She
looked at him frankly. “I am going, anyway.”

He almost laughed at her boldness. “Nay,
you are not,” he said. “William would have my head if anything happened to you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,”
she replied seriously. “Therefore, I am going. Ye may come or ye may stay; ‘tis
all the same to me. Jemma?”

Jemma was grinning, up on her feet.
She was ready to go. When Jordan turned away from Ranulf, she was amazed to see
that he was in front of her again, barring the door. She was a little startled at
the speed with which the man had moved.

“If I have to physically hold you
down, I will,” he said in an easy, controlled voice. “Now, why do you not
return to your loom and relax? This is an afternoon that begs for sleeping.”

Being firm with him hadn’t worked,
she thought with frustration. She then decided to be a bully.

“Ye wunna dare tie me down, Ranulf
Kluge.” she exclaimed threateningly. “If ye so much as lay a hand on me, I
shall scream murder.”

He shrugged calmly. “If you so
choose.”

She sighed heavily. So bullying
would not work with the man, she quickly discovered. Then a light lit her
scheming mind; mayhap trickery would. After all, the man was wearing half of
his armor.

Surely she could outrun him, at
least until she hit the lake. Then, after she was already wet, surely he could
not deny her a brief, luxurious swim. ‘Twas worth a try. If nothing else, she would
get some much needed exercise.

Suddenly becoming the very model of
an obedient woman, she sat in the high-back chair and folder her hands.

“Very well, Ranulf, I will comply,”
she said with feigned resignation. “‘Tis far too humid, as ye say, for the walk
to the lake. I might exert myself. Would ye do me the favor of retrieving my
petit poi? ‘Tis by my bed, on the table.”

He nodded. “I am truly sorry, my
lady. I am not trying to be cruel.”

“I know,” she said with a faked
smile. “Ye are simply following orders.”

He nodded again and returned the
smile. She almost felt bad that she was tricking him, but not
that
sorry. As soon as he disappeared into her bedchamber, she was up and running.

Jemma had no time to react at all.
Jordan was flinging open the door only to find three startled soldiers staring
at her. When one took a step toward her, she grabbed hold of his breastplate
and pulled as hard as she could, standing aside quickly as he crashed hard
through the open doorway. She reasoned that an obstacle would somehow slow
Ranulf’s pursuit. She heard Jemma’s gleeful laugh as she raced for the stairs.

She could hear Ranulf cursing
loudly, his bootfalls not far behind her. It had become a game and she had
every intention of winning.

Jordan was deep into the stairwell
when the herald trumpets sounded high atop the outer wall, announcing the
approach of the Northwood’s army. She never heard it.

She hit the landing with gaining
speed, mindful of Ranulf’s footsteps on the stairs behind her. Her skirts were
up around her thighs as she took the second flight of stairs like a runaway
horse, hoping she would not fall and break her neck but thinking God would
believe it suitable punishment for being so wicked.

Still, the game was fun and she was
beginning to giggle as she ran. She tore in the grand foyer heading for the entry
door of the keep. Fortunately for her, the doors were open because of the heat;
she doubted she would have had time to stop and open them with Ranulf in hot
pursuit.

When she plunged from the innards of
the keep out into the steamy inner bailey, she considered herself halfway home.
A quick glance over her shoulders showed Ranulf and two soldiers close behind.
It was enough to give her a boost of adrenalin, and she pulled away from them
with an exhilarated laugh.

It did not strike her as odd that
both the inner and outer gates were open. She merely saw it as aiding her
escape. The soldiers on the walls and in the compound were astonished to see a
streak of blond hair and light blue silk rush by, obviously delighted that
three men were in fast chase of her. Had she shown any hint of distress, she
would have been aided by two hundred men, but they did not equate the loud
laughter they heard with any sort of distress. It was enough to confuse them
greatly.

Jordan was nearly to the outer gate.
She could see the trees beyond and, past them, she knew was the lake. She also
knew she could gain much needed ground in the grass because their heavy armor
would weigh them down in the soft dirt. ‘Twas enough to make her shout for joy.
She could almost feel the coolness of the water lapping at her neck.

She was through the gates and across
the moat. Much to her distress, she heard footfalls behind her almost
simultaneously as her own and she knew that she had lost her edge. She was
therefore not surprised, merely disappointed, to feel Ranulf’s thick arms
snatch her about the mid-section.

They both went down on the grass, he
more heavily than she as he broke their fall. Jordan struggled violently as he
stood, hauling her up like a sack of grain. She didn’t want to go back. To be
so close and then to be prevented was maddening.

She tried to pry his hands loose
from her waist, wailing and kicking at him as he struggled to walk back up the
slight incline they had fallen over. Her humor was still good in that she
wasn’t trying to truly hurt him, only break free. She would alternately hang
limp and become dead weight so he would have to shift his grip, and then
instantaneously become a wild, twisting mass of hair and material.

Amidst all of the daft tussling and
pleading on her part, she heard him laughing a deep, throaty laugh. Not loud,
but she heard it. It made her smile too, but she didn’t give up.

At least, she didn’t stop her
struggles until both she and Ranulf heard a shout in the distance. She froze,
hair hanging wildly in her face, stunned to see the advance of Northwood’s army
coming down the road. Ranulf stopped, clutching her with both arms to his hip
and gazing appreciatively at the sight of the troops.

Jordan’s mouth formed an unconscious
“O” when she saw a knight split away from the company and ride toward them with
breakneck speed. She knew it was William because she recognized the charger.
And she furthermore knew she was in deep trouble. Her initial delight when she
had seen the incoming company was quickly turning into overwhelming
apprehension.

The ground shook with the thundering
hooves of the gray destrier and Jordan was so stunned she could not even push
the hair from her eyes. All she could do was watch as the massive figure on the
massive charger approached.

When he reined his animal to a halt,
it was with great clouds of dust and rattling armor. The horse continued to
dance excitedly as William looked down at the two of them, his visor down so
she could not see his face. It was several long seconds before anyone spoke.

“I do not think I want to know what
is going on here,” William said with an even voice. “But, for curiosity’s sake,
enlighten me, Ranulf. Why was Lady Jordan running like the wind?”

Ranulf sounded steady and calm. “She
was attempting to escape, my lord, for the coolness of the lake, which I had denied
her.”

A simple explanation. Jordan was
thankful he did not use words like ‘lie’ and ‘deceive.’ They still could not
see William’s face.

“Then you are saying, in essence,
that she was disobeying you?” he asked.

Ranulf hesitated a split second. “Aye,
my lord.”

The helmet bobbed in a faint nod. He
was silent for a few moments and Jordan knew he was contemplating her
punishment. She hoped, for Ranulf ‘s sake, that he would not be blamed. She was
prepared to staunchly defend him, even at the risk of a greater wrath.

Finally, William extended a huge
gloved hand. “Give her to me.”

Ranulf put her feet on the ground
and steered her over to William’s horse, lifting her into the waiting arms. She
ended up facing William in the saddle, so glad to see him but scared out of her
wits that he was going to take a stick to her for her disobedience.

The rest of the army had caught up
and the herald trumpets sounded again. Peasants and servants alike had begun
the familiar chant welcoming William home again. The eerie howling didn’t
frighten her as it had the first time she had heard it and she felt a strong
sense of pride in her William.
Wolf,
they cried. But she dare not say a
word until he did.

The arm that gripped her was tight
and unmoving. When his destrier came to an unsteady halt in the outer bailey,
he dismounted and pulled her down with him. He flipped up his visor and
bellowed orders to Paris before turning swiftly and half-dragging her across
two baileys until they were enfolded by the welcoming dimness of the castle.

She stumbled on the stairs and he
turned to pick her up, still not uttering a word. She held onto his neck,
looking remorsefully at his eyes which were the only thing visible through the
open visor. He didn’t look at her.

He reached her chambers, barking at
the soldiers to clear the way and then snapping at Jemma to get out. Once he
took her into her bedchamber, he slammed the door so hard it knocked a cup off
the table next to her bed.

William put her down and she
instinctively backed away, watching him unlatch his helmet and rip it off. It
sailed, spinning, into the nearest wall.

When he did look at her, his eyes
were dark with fury. “Would you mind telling me just why in the hell you were disobeying
Ranulf?”

She began to shake. “He told ye,
William. I wanted to swim and he had denied me, so…so I ran from him.”

His nostrils flared. “I told you to
obey him without question. Is this how you define obey? By being as unruly as a
young child? Damnation, you have no idea of the danger you are in here, do you?
Of the people who would like nothing better than to see you bleed Scot tartan
all over the ground and then rejoice for it? I do not leave orders to restrict
you, Jordan, I do it to protect you. But I need your cooperation.”

Her mouth was hanging open in genuine
regret. She knew all that he said was true. Lowering her head, for she could no
longer look him in the eye, she turned her back on him and broke into quiet
sobs.

He cursed in earnest, but it all
came out as a long hiss. “Do not do that. I do not like it when you cry.”

She answered him by sobbing louder
and he knew she was hurt. But he was infuriated with her. He had to be firm and
not take her in his arms and soothe her as he wanted so desperately to do. She had
to learn a lesson.

He watched her, her gently heaving
shoulders. To say he had been surprised when he saw her bolting from the gates
of Northwood would have been an understatement. He was about to sound the battle
cry when he saw that it was Ranulf, and a few soldiers, who chased her. But his
initial fear had turned into bone-grinding anger by that point and wondered
what in the bloody hell sort of game they were playing. His anger was not directed
at his knight, however, he knew how persuasive and stubborn she could be.

He forced himself to cool, and with
each breath he took he inhaled her lavender scent and it calmed him more. He
had missed her terribly and was sorry that the first words from his mouth had
to be harsh ones.

It wasn’t long before he was willing
to forget everything and throw her down on the bed and make love to her. She
looked so damned good to him, so healthy and vital.