The Wolfe (53 page)

“Did he do this?” His voice was
raspy.

She nodded, then burst out into sobs
again. “Oh, English, I am so sorry. I was wicked and I disobeyed ye.”

He shushed her, kissing her face,
tasting her tears. “You are safe now.” Now was not the time to scold her. “Come
on. Let me take you back.”

“‘Twas Alexander who told him to do
it,” Jordan said. She was not going to cover up for the evil little man.

William went stiff with rage. “What
did he say?”

She sniffed, wiping at her nose. She
proceeded to tell him everything since she had arrived in the hall, everything
Alexander had said and done. She was so frightened and angry and horrified at
the soldier’s death that she wanted Alexander to suffer purely because he had provoked
the man. She felt like a tattler, but she was not going to protect someone who
had tried to do her great harm.

William was collected and unreadable
as always when she finished. Except for one thing; she noticed the veins in his
neck throbbing. She’d never seen that before and it puzzled her. He paused a
moment after she had concluded, drawing in a deep breath before finally
nodding. Then he kissed her forehead and released her.

“Is Alexander in his rooms?” he
asked mildly.

“Aye,” she nodded, wiping away the
remainder of her tears and touching her swollen lip.

He nodded again. He turned and
stepped over his sword where it lay upon the floor and walked directly to
Alexander’s door. Jordan watched him apprehensively, wondering what he was
going to do. He seemed calm enough except for that wild pulsing at the base of
his neck.

He tried the door to find that it
was bolted from the inside. Jordan continued to watch him as he took a step
back, as if he were contemplating the situation. She didn’t know what to think,
for he looked thoughtful and sedate. Had his anger fled?

She doubted it. She had grown to
know him well enough to know he would not have gotten over it that quickly. So
what was he planning?

She was about to find out.

Like a flash of lightning, William lashed
out a huge booted leg and rammed the door head-on. Jordan shrieked in surprise
as the door gave, cracked, and finally swung open in a hail of flying wood and
debris. Not only had the wooden bolt snapped, but he had separated the panel
from the top hinge.

William was through the doorjamb
before the door had even come to a final resting place.

Jordan clutched her throat in shock,
running after him but pausing at the threshold, not sure if she should follow him
in yet horrifically curious to see what he was going to do.

Alexander had been sitting at his
writing desk at the opposite side of the antechamber when William had kicked
his door in. He now stood, a long thin sword in his palm pointed right at William’s
chest.

William was advancing on Alexander
as if the man were not holding a sword. Jordan heard her breath coming in
small, panicked gasps, knowing William’s sword lay back in the hall. She turned
and ran for it, retrieving the heavy blade with all of her strength and
dragging it back to the doorway.

“William. Yer sword.” she cried.

If he heard her, he did not acknowledge
her. He walked right up to Alexander and batted the sword from the man’s hand
as if it were nothing more than a toy. Alexander was terror-stricken; his pasty
face was beaded with sweat and his whole body was quaking.

“Never point a sword at me unless
you intend to use it,” William growled.

Alexander backed away from him. “Get
out of here.”

William’s jaw ticked. “I understand
that you encouraged the attack on Lady Jordan.”

Alexander’s eyes darted to Jordan in
the doorway and back again. “I know of no attack.”

William lost his composure, then. He
charged Alexander, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him onto the
flat surface of the desk behind him. Vellum scattered and ink spilled, wells
clattering to the floor. The heavy oaken chair tipped over and William kicked
it into the wall as it tried to fall on him.

His hazel-gold eyes were as murky as
the depths of the sea. “You lying bastard,” he seethed. “I should have killed
you last night when you all but admitted to me ‘twas you who ordered the
assassination attempt on Jordan, but I restrained myself although God knows
why. You paid the Welsh archer and then killed him so he could not talk. You
even planted your sister’s necklace on the man to throw us off your scent.”

Alexander was terrified, struggling
against the vice-like hold, but William gripped his neck tighter. But William
wasn’t finished yet.

“Now you give your blessing for a
soldier to attack Lady Jordan?” he went on. “What in the hell is your warped
mind thinking?”

Alexander was gasping for breath. “Let
go of me or I swear to God I will have your head.”

William was grasping him so tightly
that he knew the man was laboring for air. “Not until we have an agreement, but
God knows I should kill you here and now for what you have done.” His voice was
not quite as urgent, but the tone had become deadly. “You will leave Lady
Jordan alone. You will not look at her, speak with her, nor even so much as
think about her. If I hear you have so much as glanced in her direction, I will
descend on you like the plague and I can promise that you will not survive. And
you will watch every step you make, for I shall be watching you as well. One
false move and The Wolf will strike.”

Alexander was white. His mouth was
working, foam on his lips. “How dare you threaten me.” he rasped.

William smiled, cold and deadly. “‘Tis
no threat I give you, but a promise. One more transgression against Lady
Jordan, however small, and I will kill you.”

Alexander began to spasm. “I wonder
what my father will have to say about that.”

William’s eyes glittered. “Then I
wonder, also, what he will say when he learns his heir master-minded the
assassination plot against the future countess, and wholeheartedly approved an
attack on her person? ‘Twould be certain grounds to have your viscount title
stripped and possibly exiled. Remember then, Alexander, that this is between
you and I. I know everything that is in your black heart.”

Alexander looked stunned. Still
defiant, but stunned. William, satisfied his point had been well-taken, hauled
the man to his feet.

“Jordan, come here,” he said
quietly.

Shaking, Jordan lay down the sword
and approached the two men, warily eyeing Alexander. He was staring at the
ground, William’s hands swallowing up his shoulders and neck. She stopped
several feet away. William grabbed the Alexander’s hair and painfully forced
the man to look at her.

“I want to hear you apologize,”
William growled in his ear.

Alexander’s mouth went into a thin
line and he tried to turn away, but William held him firmly by the hair. “Do it
or I run you through this instant,” he hissed.

William was pulling his hair so hard
that Alexander would have said anything simply to be free. “I apologize.” he
cried.

William released him and he fell
forward, bracing himself against his desk so he would not plummet to the floor.
He was breathing heavily with exertion and hatred, spittle dripping from his
mouth to the oaken surface below him. Had he had a dagger within reach that
moment, he would have thrown it at William. His mind was cloaked with black
anger and humiliation, feeding off each other.

“Get out.” he screamed, his voice
cracking.

William silently moved to Jordan,
gathering her against him. She fell into him, feeling his strength renew her
own. She had heard everything he had said, all of the revelations he had kept
from her. She was frightened and relieved at the same time, confident that
Alexander would harass her no more. She had seen the look in the man’s eyes and
he was deathly afraid of William, and of the knowledge William held. Now that
it was over, she simply wanted to get the hell out of there.

William knew her feelings and
quickly ushered her from the room. In the hall lay her scattered basket and
Analiese’s necklace on the floor. She pulled away from him, going to retrieve
her basket, not surprised when she turned back to him to see that he had
gathered the bits of clothing and the necklace. She held the basket as he
placed the items in it. 

“Do you still wish to see Analiese?”
he asked her quietly.

She nodded. “Aye, I do.”

He sighed, knowing how important it
was to her. “Then we will return to your rooms and you may change out of that
dress. I am sure you do not wish for Analiese to see you in it.”

She looked down at the torn, soiled
dress. “Nay,” she whispered, her eyes trailing over her shoulder to the cooling
corpse on the floor. “What about him?”

William pulled her with him,
whisking her down the corridor. “Do not worry about him,” he said, pausing but
a moment to sweep her into his arms.

Gratefully, she wound her arms
around his neck, laying her head on his shoulder. Her proud, strong William.
Sweet
Jesu’
, what would she ever do without him?

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Thomas Scott sat in the grand hall
of Langton, his handsome face dark as he listened to the ranting of sundry clan
members and allies. He had been listening to their anger off and on for nearly
two days. His mood was black and his ale tasteless to his tongue as his mind
grasped the severity of the situation before him, one almost too terrifying to
believe.

“Ye signed a peace treaty with the
Sassenachs.” Oliver Barr pounded the table with a meaty fist. “They have broken
the treaty, man. The bottom line is, what do ye intend to do about it?”

Thomas observed his ally over the
rim of his cup before carefully setting it down. “The treaty I signed was
between Northwood and Langton,” he said. “It said nothing about the Barrs, or
the Macphersons, or the Callendars, or the McKennas. Ye, Oliver Barr, attacked
The Lyceum and nearly destroyed her. Of course the English laird sent for help,
and he happened to send word to Northwood. The laird of Teviot was simply
supporting his ally.”

“Exactly my point,” Barr boomed. “Ye
and I have been allies for many years, Thomas. ‘Tis yer duty to support yer kin.
I demand ye break ties with Northwood. Had it not been for the damned Wolf, we
would hold The Lyceum right now.”

Thomas was trapped, although he
would not let on that he indeed felt the pressure. If he broke the treaty, he
would suffer no peace from the English. If he did not break the treaty, he
would suffer no peace from his countrymen. He would literally be alone, and
even with the size of Langton, he could not survive alone.

“Ye have been fighting Lord
Harringham for years, Oliver,” he said evenly. “Just as I have fought De
Longley as my closest English enemy. If Harringham sent a missive offering
peace for yer daughter, would ye not take it simply to have a peace? Yer asking
me to dishonor my word and jeopardize Jordan’s life. Northwood has committed no
transgressions agin Langton, so I would not be right in my assumption that they
have broken the treaty.”

Oliver Barr sat with his elders,
several members of the MacPherson clan, and the Callendar brothers. Barr was
the most adamant, the others seemed to be agreeing with him simply because he
was loud and aggressive and they were a-feared to go against him.

Thomas knew this, but he also knew
that shortly he would have to make a decision. Nathaniel and Matthew sat on
either side of him, and he knew they would accept whatever he decided.

“Yer a Scot, Thomas, whether or not
yer daughter has married into an English house.” Oliver had lowered his voice. “Yer
duty lies in yer loyalty to yer countrymen, the same countrymen who have fought
and died for ye. Ye yerself had one hundred men supporting me on my assault.
Technically, they fought agin Northwood, which means that the treaty has
already been compromised.”

Thomas looked hard at Oliver before
lowering his gaze. He could see that he would be given no choice in this. Two
days of bickering and reasoning could have been saved if he had only given in
at the beginning, but he truly hoped that his allies would see his reasoning.
He knew now that they saw only what Oliver Barr was telling them.

“Then what would ye have me do?”
Thomas forced the words out, knowing exactly what he was going to be told and
ashamed he would be going back on his word. But to survive, he had to bow to
then wishes.

Oliver sighed, pleased that Thomas
was finally coming around. He knew the man would, eventually. “Ye will withdraw
Jordan and tell the English laird that since he had broken the treaty by
fighting agin the Scots, the marriage contract is dissolved,” he sat down and
fixed Thomas with an unwavering gaze. “Then we band the clans together and
launch an attack to destroy both The Lyceum and Northwood. The two seats have
long been the greatest cause of our troubles. With them gone, we can easily
deal with the smaller English fortresses until we alone control the entire
border.”