The Wolfe (51 page)

He reached out and grabbed her,
sending the man a scowl that sent him immediately away.

Jordan watched the man go, her head
bobbing and weaving. “Ye chased him away, English. He was about to tell me a
secret about Alexander. I do love secrets.”

He slipped his arm around her back,
supporting her. “‘Tis no secret you have had too much to drink,” he said, being
mindful of who watched them. “‘Tis time for you to retire.”

She pouted. “But my party is not
over.”

“Aye, it is,” he enunciated each
word.

Halfway across the hall she began to
sag and he pulled her more firmly against him. “Why dinna ye dance with me,
English?” she slurred.” I waited and waited.”

He started to answer when a shadow
crossed in front of them. He raised his eyes to find himself staring into the
beady orbs Baron Billingham. The tall, ugly man looked at Jordan as if he were
appraising a side of beef and William bristled. It was no secret that the baron
was particularly vile and William was fully prepared to do battle with him in
order to protect Jordan.

“Tell me, lass,” he said with a
leering smile, “do you have any sisters?”

Jordan tried to straighten up for
she knew who the man was. She was trying desperately to form an answer in her
alcohol-soaked mind but could not seem to remember any words.

“What do you care? You hate Scots
more than anyone around,” Alexander was strolling past, weaving drunkenly as he
headed for the door. “Besides, you are married.”

The earl glanced over his shoulder
at the man. “Mayhap you should marry, Alexander, and then you would not be such
a pain in the arse.”

Jordan could not stop herself. She
started to giggle. William groaned inwardly, wondering what was going to come
spilling forth from her delicious little mouth and praying she didn’t offend
the man too greatly. Fortunately, the baron had had enough to drink as well.

“Nay, my lord, no sisters,” she said
between chuckles and snorts. “Just me. And my cousin, Jemma, and my other
cousin, Caladora. But there are plenty of beautiful Scot lasses for the
choosing.”

The earl guffawed loudly in one
short burst. “None that I have seen; at least, none like you.” He reached out a
thick finger and stroked her cheek. “I’d pay good money for you.”

Jordan lost all of her joviality at
that moment. She was frightened of the man and pressed closer to William. She
was trying to formulate a reply when the baron, mercifully, moved away without
another word.

William, relieved the encounter had
not come to blows, hastened her from the room. As soon as they were in the
foyer, he gathered her into his arms and took the steps two at a time until he
reached her rooms.

There was no guard which meant that
Kieran was still inside with Jemma. Jordan had passed out cold on his shoulder
and he shifted her so that he could knock on the barred door.

Suddenly, he caught movement out of
the corner of his eye and spun around, at an extreme disadvantage with Jordan
in his arms. He certainly didn’t want her to become a shield should a sword fly
out at him and he was fully preparing to drop her to protect them both.

But it was only Alexander. The man
stood in front of him, swaying dangerously. William’s tensed body relaxed at
the sight. He was annoyed; he had no time for Alexander’s nonsense tonight.

“What the hell are you doing here?”
he demanded of the viscount. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I wanted to tell you to leave her
alone,” Alexander replied.

William didn’t show any emotion. “Go
to bed,” he said. “You are drunk.”

“Aye, I am,” Alexander agreed. “But
I know what I am saying. Leave the bitch alone.”

William reached out his foot and
rapped on the door. It was almost simultaneously opened by a grim-faced Kieran,
who was gazing hostilely at Alexander. He had heard the voices.

“Take Jordan,” William said quietly,
handing her carefully over to his knight.

“Give her to him.” Alexander crowed.
“By all means, let Kieran have the whore. He’s a big man with big needs. Hell,
there’s enough to go around for everyone.”

William’s nostrils flared in a rare
display of his fury. A hard lesson was coming for the viscount.

“William,” Kieran stopped his
advance. “Let me take Alexander back to his rooms. You take Lady Jordan.”

Kieran was afraid William was going
to commit murder by the sheer look on the man’s face. But William shook him
off.

“Nay, I shall be but a moment,” he
assured him evenly. “Put her to bed.”

Kieran watched as William put a
crushing hand on Alexander’s shoulder and turned the man back around, forcibly
escorting him down the hall. William was speaking to him, but Kieran could not
hear the words. But he knew the tone and he didn’t like it.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

An hour later, William came back.
Kieran admitted him, looking closely for any signs of blood on his hands.
William saw his expression and waved him off.

“Nay, I did not kill him, but I
wanted to,” he said. He sat heavily in the high-back chair, feeling his fatigue
as he did.

Kieran studied him. “What’s that cut
on your eye?”

William put his finger to it as if
he had forgot it was there. “That? Just another one of Alexander’s tantrums.
Seems he didn’t like what I had to say. But I, on the other hand, was most
interested to hear what he had to say.”

Kieran sat opposite him. “And what
was that?”

William let out a sigh, resting his
head against the back of the chair. “‘Twas not Analiese that made an attempt on
Jordan’s life. It was Alexander.” When Kieran appeared shocked, he went on. “He
did not exactly admit it, but he had knowledge of the attack that only my
knights knew. Unless we have a spy among us, which we do not, Alexander made
the attempt.”

Kieran let out a long hiss. “Bastard,”
he said with conviction. “What did he say that led you discover him?”

“In his drunken state he mentioned
the Welsh archer, the fact that the man was murdered with a dagger, and
Analiese’s necklace. Had he mentioned only one correct fact and not several, I
would simply have assumed that he was guessing.” He exhaled wearily and
scratched his forehead. “But then there was the curious statement that he
believes himself in love with me and does not like the attention I have been
paying Jordan.”

Kieran wasn’t surprised by the admission.
“Alexander’s fondness for men is well known, William, but you are not his type,”
he said. “His tastes run from young boys to the effeminate noblemen of the king’s
court. He has never shown any desire for a fighting man.”

“Then I am given the dishonor of
being the first.” He rubbed at his neck. “This conversation sickens me.”

Kieran took the hint. “Now that we
know it is him, how do we protect Jordan against him?”

William lifted his eyebrows. “Now
that we know it is him, I would say it makes it much easier,” he said. “We’ll
continue the guard, but I think she can be allowed more freedom due to the fact
we’ll place a guard on Alexander as well.”

Kieran snorted. “How are you going
to explain that to de Longley?”

William sat forward, pausing a
moment before rising exhaustedly to his feet. “I shall think of something and
let you know when I do,” he said. “Now, I shall check on Jordan.”

He lumbered to her door and entered
quietly, shutting it behind him. She lay on her back, one arm over her head and
the other on her stomach, softly snoring in her stupor. He smiled, knowing she
would have quite a headache when she awoke and imagining how foul her humor
would be. Seeing that she was well and not wanting to wake her, he went softly
for the door. The minute he lifted the latch, he heard her stir.

“English?” she called.

He moved back to the bed. “‘Tis me,
love. Go back to sleep.”

“I will, but I want ye to sta….” She
rolled toward him and immediately gripped the bed. “Oh, God… I dunna feel so
well.”

He could see what was coming and
struggled to keep from smiling as he quickly retrieved her chamber pot.

Jordan wretched her guts out in it
and then some. William could do nothing more that hold her hair back so she
would not soil it and speak softly to her while she gasped in her misery.

She fell back on the bed, her face
green. “Oh, English, I feel awful. I have never felt so bad in my entire life.”

He threw a piece of linen over the
pot and sat on the bed beside her. “Then mayhap at the wedding party you will
not drink as much,” he said with gentle sternness. “Consider this your lesson.”

“Why dinna ye stop me?” she turned
the blame around.

He laughed softly. “Because you
would not have listened to me and probably would have accused me of spoiling
your fun. Some things you must learn on your own, my lady. But I am curious;
you have never been drunk before?”

“Not like this,” she moaned softly. “I
dunna like wine much. And I could never drink enough whisky to make me sick.”

Kieran opened the door softly and
peered in, grinning at the two figures on the bed. “Did anyone call for water?”

William grinned in return and nodded
at him. “Aye, we did.”

“I thought so,” he closed the door
behind him.

“Why the water?” Jordan rolled onto
her side and hugged her pillow, trying to stop the bed from moving.

“To wash you up,” he replied. “And
to drink. Byron has a concoction of mashed root and herbs that is guaranteed to
make you feel better.”

She shoved her face into the pillow.
“If I drink anything I will surely barf it up.”

He reached over and rubbed her back.
“No, you won’t, I swear it.”

She fell back asleep, but the
god-awful potion was waiting for her when she next opened her eyes. And she
drank it gladly.

***      

Jordan awoke around noon. Even with
her tremendous headache, she was determined to seek out Analiese and return the
heavy, expensive necklace she had borrowed the night before. She was eager,
too, to see if Analiese had a change of heart over the night once the wine had
worn off and her mind had cleared.

She was apprehensive that the lady
who would greet her this morn would be the same lady she had met the first day
she had come to Northwood. She knew that hate wasn’t something one could forget
over the course of a few hours.

But she wanted to go alone, not with
her entourage of soldiers following her. She knew she could not simply walk
out; nay, she would have to be cleverer than that. She must consult a higher
source of cunning and deceit, for she was not particularly good at it.

Fortunately, Jemma was a master of
trickery and decided that Jordan would dress as a serving girl and slip past
the guards unnoticed. But the real convincing came when Jemma insisted on going
and Jordan insisted she stay. It threatened to be an all-out brawl until Jordan
told Jemma if she followed her, that she would send her back to Langton. Jemma
ceased her arguing because she knew William would do it if Jordan asked it of
him, and the thought of leaving Kieran terrified her.

Jordan traded clothes with Maggie
the maid. The simple coat and tunic was too big, but she cinched up the girdle
until she could not breathe to make it fit properly. Plaiting her hair into a
thick braid, she tied a kerchief around her head and put on Maggie’s worn brown
slippers. She then took a basket and threw a pile of mending in it, concealing
the necklace at the very bottom.

Jordan felt very sly and wicked, but
also a great deal of freedom. She was not allowed from her rooms unescorted for
any reason, and the thought of wandering the halls of Northwood in disguise
made her feel very adventurous.

Jordan had a general idea where
Analiese’s rooms were simply from talk she had heard and knew approximately how
to get there, but even if she got lost she was not worried. Somehow, she would find
her way. The thought that she would be anonymous in her serving garb, free to
go anywhere in the castle, blotted out all apprehension she might have.

Jemma pinned her braid up under the
kerchief so that he hair would be concealed. It was the final step before
gathering her basket and opening the door, keeping her head lowered so that the
guards could not recognize her. Jason had been on duty earlier; she prayed he
was not there now for he would surely notice her.

Walking past the guards had been
exceptionally easy, much to her surprise. No one said a word to her. She
continued down the corridor, not daring to raise her head until she had rounded
a corner and was out of their sight.