The Wolfe (50 page)

“Why did ye try to kill me, lad?”

The arguing instantly ceased, all
heads turning in the direction of the softly-uttered question.

Jordan stood calmly a few feet away,
her eyebrows lifted questioningly. Michael stood behind her, looking sick.
Against all that he was, he had disobeyed a direct order from William and fully
expected harsh punishment. It would not have bothered him so much had he
understand just why he did it, but he could not have explained the action in
words.

Jordan took a step closer to the
panting, angry group of men. “Answer me.”

Langley blinked. “I was not trying
to kill you, my lady. I was attempting to give you the dagger as a gift and it
accidentally came from its sheath.”

“Where is the knife?” she looked at
Kieran, and at William.

Kieran extended his open palm, it
was a small, beautiful dirk. She stared at it for a moment.

“That doesna look like the dagger of
a young lord,” she remarked, then locked on to William’s eyes. “In fact, it
looks much like a dagger my grandmother gave to me. Exceptionally feminine,
wunna ye say, Captain?”

William didn’t answer her. His face
was like stone, his eyes murky and dark with rage. She knew she would not
answer her, but she believed she had made her point. She turned her attention
back to Langley.

“I believe ye, Langley Corvalis,”
she said. “‘Tis a dirk fitting a countess and I graciously accept.”

“As I believe you, Langley.” From
behind Michael, it was Analiese. Michael flinched; he had doubly failed. He had
left Analiese with the soldiers and trusted that they would see her safely to
her rooms. He might as well take his own sword and throw himself upon it now
because once William got finished with him, he would have wished he had.

Analiese approached Jordan. “Father,
I know Langley well,” she said in an amazingly civil tone. “He is arrogant and
silly, but he is not a murderer. I must concur with Jordan.”

De Longley wasn’t convinced. “Lady
Jordan, Analiese….” He stammered.

Jordan cut him off, capturing him
with her pale green eyes; only de Longley could order the boy released. Mayhap
with Analiese’s surprising show of support, she could secure it. One boy had
already been flogged and outcast because of her and she did nothing to prevent
it; she would prevent this lad’s humiliation if she could.

“Sire,” she said pleadingly. “As a
personal favor to me as yer betrothed, I would ask that ye release the lad on
his word. I believe him, and no harm has been done.”

De Longley suddenly looked very old.
He met her gaze a moment before nodding wearily. “As you wish, my lady.”

William instantly released his hold
and the boy nearly fell to the ground. His father caught him and whisked him
away. Slowly, the receiving line began to form again, the hum of whispers
filling the room. The music resumed timidly, mingling with the voices.

Jordan smiled her thanks to
Analiese, who gave her a short nod in return. But there was no mistaking the
camaraderie she saw in her eyes. Elated and relieved, she again stood next to
the earl feeling as if the evening had already been a momentous victory.

Except where William was concerned,
he stood behind her shooting her a piercing gaze that she could almost feel
through her clothes. She heard De Longley chuckle next to her.

“William is displeased, I would say,”
he whispered to her.

She shrugged. “I am sorry, but he
was wrong.”

The earl gave a loud snort. “William?
Never.”

Jordan saw that her statement had
greatly amused the earl. It was obvious that the man had an extremely high
opinion of his captain.

The line of knights resumed behind
the family. William ducked back, tapping Michael on the shoulder and motioning
for him to follow.

They found their way into a small
office. William was furious, struggling to keep his composure as he faced off
against Michael.

“Would you kindly explain why you
disobeyed a direct order?” he thought he sounded rather calm.

Michael’s jaw ticked. “She began to
fight me, m-my lord, and I was afraid she would reinjure her shoulder.” He
shrugged irritably. “She threatened, demanded, cajoled, and the next thing I
knew, I was standing behind her as she interrogated Corvalis. It was as if she
was you, my lord; I bowed without question to her will and I cannot explain m-my
actions. I stand ready for punishment.”

“Michael, you are at least three
times her size. Did it not occur to you to use force?” William snapped.

“Aye, m-my lord, it occurred to me,
but every time I m-moved to take her she threatened to box my ears or slug me
in the nose,” he was obviously appalled at his lack of courage against the
small woman. “I didn’t want to offend or hurt her, or m-myself for that matter.
Besides, I did not see any real danger in letting her remain, albeit far
removed from the trouble.”

William’s eyes were dark. “‘Tis not
your duty to determine if there is any real danger,” he growled. “I am your
captain and you are my knight. You will do as I tell you without a second
thought. I know Lady Jordan has vast powers of persuasion; believe me, I have
been on the receiving end many a time. But that does not excuse your blatant
disregard for my orders.”

“No, sire,” Michael agreed stiffly.

William’s hands were clenched in a
hard ball behind his back. He trusted Michael’s judgment of the situation, but
he would not tell him that. The point remained that he had disobeyed him. And
that could not go unpunished.

“Adam’s knighting ceremony will be
tomorrow night,” he said in a low voice. “You will not attend.”

It was a harsh blow but Michael didn’t
flinch. Instead, he nodded quickly. “Aye, m-my lord.”

William eyed him, standing like a
strong young tree before him. “Furthermore, you will be assigned to guard Lady
Jordan tomorrow night since the rest of the knights will be at the service. See
if you can resist her feminine wiles so that she may survive the night.”

Michael again nodded stoically. “Aye,
m-my lord, it shall be done.”

“See that it is,” William replied. “I
will not have this conversation with you again. You have been warned.”

Dismissed, Michael spun on his heel
and marched back into the hall, relieved he did not get his head taken off as
he expected. The punishment was severe enough, but in the back of his mind he
realized that William had made no mention of failing to keep Analiese from the
room. Not so strange when he considered that William only had eyes for the fair
Lady Jordan. And he could see why.

By the time William entered the
hall, guests were taking their seats and the feast was about to begin. He was
making his way to the head table when the drunken form of Jemma stumbled in
front him.

He reached out to steady her,
cursing silently when he saw who it was. She was in no condition to attend a
formal banquet.

“Hello, English,” she slurred, then
giggled. “Oh. I mean captain.”

He frowned, hoisting her up so she
would not fall. But he was not only irritated, he was apprehensive as well. If Jemma
indeed knew everything about he and Jordan, then she must be removed at once
before anything was inadvertently said.

“Come along,” he said, half-carrying
her with him.

Over by the wall, several feet away,
stood Kieran. William socked him with a look that made him straighten and take
notice. Be thrust Jemma at him.

“Look at her,” William hissed. “She
is drunk. I thought you were watching her.”

Kieran looked concerned. “I was,” he
insisted. “She’s only had two or three glasses of wine.”

William rolled his eyes. “Then she
obviously cannot hold her liquor. Take her upstairs.”

Jemma reeled away from William right
into Kieran’s broad chest. She smiled her sweet, curvy smile at him that even
William found pretty. “Hello, my strong Sassenach knight,” she said dreamily. “Ye
look mighty handsome tonight.”

William gave Kieran a disbelieving
look before shoving them both toward the door. Kieran guided her just outside
the door frame where William saw him pick her up. With a sigh to compose
himself, he headed once again for the dais. This evening was growing more
chaotic by the minute.

Jordan was standing up, looking
beyond the table as he approached. “Where is Jemma going?”

William stopped before her, the
damask covered table between them. “She is feeling ill, my lady. Kieran will
take care of her.”

Jordan was up and moving. “If she is
ill, then I must tend her.”

William moved around the table and
met her halfway, grasping her arm. “She will be fine,” he said quietly. “Your
place is here.”

Jordan flushed and yanked her arm
free of his grip. “If she is sick, then I will tend to her. Kieran has other
duties, I am sure.”

He frowned, cocking a black brow. “Trust
me when I tell you that there is no need,” his voice was very quiet. “She is as
drunk as a fool.”

Jordan blinked at him. “Then where
did she get the whisky?”

When he looked puzzled and opened
his mouth, she firmly cut him off. “English, Jemma can drink a barrel of wine
and not feel a thing. I’d wager she could drink all of yer knights under the
table. But the only drink she canna tolerate is whisky. I smelled it on her earlier,
though I had not the chance to stop her.”

He sighed. “Be that as it may, she
is far gone and I will not have her embarrassing the house of de Longley,” he
turned her around and pointed her toward her chair. “Sit and enjoy. Jemma will
be safe enough.”

Reluctantly, she complied. And she
was later glad that she had.

The evening was wonderful. The food
had been deliciously prepared, the entertainment lively, and the company good.
With Adam on her right and the earl on her left, she was pampered and well
cared for. William sat several chairs down from her and she could only see him
if she obviously made the effort. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she
made no such attempts and her heart ached not being able to see him.

The party went on all night. Jordan
danced with every man of any importance who asked it of her, including the earl.
Three times. From the moment she stopped eating until before dawn, she was
never off her feet.

It was a wild, giddy world she had
never before experienced on this level and she loved lt. She loved to be happy
and gay, but was increasingly disappointed that William had not yet danced with
her. Just once, she hoped. What harm could it do? Just once to dance with the
man she loved, in public, with everyone watching them. It almost brought her to
tears thinking that she could pretend it was their wedding dance.

But William was busy, constantly
roving the hall, checking in with his officers, making sure everything was
running smoothly. But he kept his eye trained on her, watching every man that
danced with her like The Wolf that he was. The sense of possessiveness that
filled him was overwhelming but he did nothing to stop it. He could not have if
he tried.

She kept passing him glances every time
he would re-enter the hall and he could do nothing but gaze back at her. He
knew she wanted him to dance with her, but he could not. It would not have been
proper for the captain of the troops to dance with the future countess. He
hoped to God she understood that he didn’t dance with her not because he didn’t
want to.

A couple of hours before dawn most
of the revelers were drunk through and through. The earl had long since
retired, but Jordan, Analiese, Alexander and Adam were still going. Analiese
and Jordan had spent the evening becoming comfortable with one another, yet
William was still distrustful. Open hostility was much easier to handle than
subversive thoughts.

Alexander reacted much the same way
to Jordan that he always had; he ignored her. Adam, however, was obviously smitten
with her and William had to smile at the naive boy. He was doomed for a
heartache.

William had been watching Jordan all
night and noticed that she had imbibed a good deal of wine. Every time a dance
would end, someone would hand her a cup and she would drain it in one hoist to
the cheers of her admirers. As much as he disapproved, he didn’t stop her
because that was part of the tradition. He knew that one good hangover and that
would cure her of this particularly vile custom. At the next party, she would
remember and be far more cautious. Unless she was a lush, and then she would
like it all the more. He chuckled inwardly to that thought.

By the time dawn broke, Jordan was
bouncing off of the furniture and William decided she’d had enough. She had
spent a wonderful evening, of which she would most likely remember little, and
had won a great many admirers, mainly of the male sex. It had been blatantly
evident that she was the princess of the party. Analiese, having ingested a
great quantity of wine herself, seemed not to care, for she shared a good
number of male attentions by her own right.

Jordan was propped against a table,
half-talking and half-sleeping with a young nobleman, a cousin of the Earl of
York. She giggled, slurred and he could hear her voice clear across the hall.
When he marched sternly up to her, she tipped her head up to look at him and
almost fell over backward.