The Wolfe (61 page)

The knights pressed forward to
congratulate them, one by one. Paris was the first, shaking William’s hand
heartily, a grin on his face and not saying a word. The two of them had been
through so much together that no words need be spoken; William knew what was in
Paris’ heart. The men were closer than brothers. Paris moved in front of Jordan
and she smiled up at him, as he placed his hands firmly on his hips.

“I will settle for no handshake,
Lady de Wolfe,” he said flatly. It was the first time she had heard her new
title and a shock of elation went through her.

She grinned broadly, throwing her
arms around his neck. He laughed low, giving her a firm squeeze before setting
her down again. But he did not release her before he planted a loud kiss on her
cheek.

Kieran was next and she gave him the
same treatment. One by one, each knight received the honor of a warm hug and a
kiss from Lady de Wolfe. The last knight was Deinwald; he was trying to give
her his usual hard gaze, crossing his arms in front of him as if he was
protecting himself. But she could see the lips twitching and the corner of his
eye quiver and she knew he was having a difficult time maintaining his facade.
He didn’t want her to see that he would have liked a hug and a kiss, too. He
was trying very hard to remain stern.

She fixed him with a firm stare and
put her hands on her hips. “Deinwald Ellsrod, do ye mean to say that ye are not
going to congratulate me?”

“Congratulations,” he said gruffly.

She shook her head and opened her
arms to him. The hard stance lasted only a moment longer before his face
cracked into a large, boyish grin and he embraced her, kissing her cheek. She
laughed with delight at winning the game.

“Deinwald, unhand my wife,” William
growled after a moment.

Embarrassed, Deinwald pulled away
quickly and allowed the earl access to the new bride.

Jordan wasn’t sure how she should
react to the earl. The man had very nearly violated her before dawn, but now he
was the cause of her greatest joy. She attempted to form a pretty speech in her
mind, but it was dashed the moment he began to speak.

“Lady Jordan,” the earl took her
hand. “As I begged for William’s forgiveness this day, I must also ask yours.
What I did this morn was intolerable and I have no excuse other than to say
that I was wrong. Mayhap it was an old man’s vanity. At any rate, I hope that
in a small way this marriage makes up for my sins and I pray that William makes
you happy. I believe I can vouch for the lad’s character.”

She relaxed and smiled. “I accept
yer apology. And I am indebted to ye as well. Ye’re the most generous of men,
sire, to put the needs of others before yer own. I can only pray that ye dunna
find yerself in trouble over what has been done.”

“If handled correctly, there should
be no trouble,” the earl insisted with a smile. “If we can simply get through
our sovereign’s visit, then we shall be relatively safe.”

Jordan nodded, hoping to God he was
right. The small wedding party finished the food and the wine, voices quiet
lest they be discovered. They were already pushing the limits of caution by
remaining as long as they had, but no one seemed to want to leave. Least of all
the earl. He stood with Adam, drinking a good deal of his private stock wine
and chatting with Paris.

William didn’t want it to end. He
wished there had been music and minstrels and flowers filling every corner of
the room, just for her. He had promised her that someday they would have a
huge, fine wedding with those things, a wedding in which he could announce to
the world that he had married the most beautiful woman who had ever lived.

But for now he was content, for he
never believed this event would occur while he was still young. He was married
to the woman of his dreams, and that was all that mattered.

Finally the earl set his cup down
and moved toward them. “We have been here overlong, William. Mayhap you should
bid your bride good-eve and let us be about our business.”

Jordan looked stricken that he was
going to leave her, but quickly recovered herself. She reminded herself that
they had the rest of their lives to spend together, though she wished they
could have spent their wedding night together. She was trying not to be selfish
but not succeeding.

William nodded. “Aye, My lord. The
king should arrive come the morning and there is much to do,” she could see
him transforming himself from bridegroom to commander as if he were changing a
suit of clothes. “Go and change into your battle armor. We shall meet in the earl’s
solar in an hour. Paris, you will come with me. Kieran, you will please escort
my lady wife and her cousin back to their chambers and set the guard.”

When he called her his ‘lady wife’
he had looked most sweetly at her, the only waver in an otherwise hard façade.
He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead before turning her over to Kieran
and quitting the room in pursuit of the earl.

Kieran watched her stare wistfully
at the empty door. He moved into her line of sight and extended an armored
elbow.

“My lady?”

She tore her gaze from the door,
glancing up into his kind brown eyes. The other knights were filing from the
room, as was Father Sutton, and Jordan took the offered arm.

All of a sudden, her wedding was
over and she felt a distinct depression at that thought. For something she had
waiting and dreamed so fervently for, it was over quicker than she wished. Her husband
was gone, off attending his liege, and she was now being escorted back to her
rooms with her cousin just as she had been a hundred times over since her arrival.
The rooms would be unchanged, her clothing would be the same, the atmosphere
would be the same.

There would be guards in her hall,
making sure no one molested the fair Scot lass. Tomorrow would dawn just as it
had for millions of years, the same as always. Everything was unchanged in spite
of the brief ceremony here tonight. Except there was one difference that turned
her depression into soaring joy.      

She was now Lady de Wolfe.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Henry III, King of England, and his
wife, Eleanor of Provence, arrived to a herald of pomp shortly after the
nooning meal of the following day. They had spent nearly a month at Beverley
Castle and would be attending the earl’s wedding before heading back to
Windsor.

Jordan stood by the window, watching
the incoming caravan with a great deal of nervousness. William and the other
knights were in full regalia, down in the outer bailey forming an honor guard
as the king and his wife rode in. Jordan could see him from where she stood, so
regal and proud in the saddle. Even his destrier was decorated with plates of
highly-polished ceremonial armor.

Curious and agitated to a fault,
Jordan wrung at her hands as she tried to get a better look at the man who had
ruled England since he had been nine years old. When he climbed from his
litter, she was afforded a good view of him; Henry was a small man, yet fairly
well-built for his size and age. It was said he was fickle, weak-willed, and
greedy. He had sold the two dukedoms of Normandy and Anjou simply for the money
obtained and because he didn’t need them, anyway.

He had all of England at his hand.
But it was also said he was a temperate man, although she wondered just exactly
what that meant, yet he was educated and had ruled England rather well after
the tumultuous reign of his father, King John. He was neither outstanding nor a
complete failure, but rather average. Still, she was wildly curious about him.

Eleanor followed her husband from
the litter, assisted by William himself. She was about the same size as her
husband, but it was difficult to tell much more than that. She wore a wimple
and veil that covered everything but her face, and a voluminous dark surcoat
that revealed nothing of her figure. If she hadn’t been laden with jewels, she
would have resembled a nun.

The earl was there to greet his
third cousin on his mother’s side. Jordan watched him scrape and bow and noted
that except for the hair color, the king and the earl were as different as
night and day. Alexander and Analiese were right behind their father, bowing
and scraping as well.

The enormity of the situation began
to settle over Jordan then.
Sweet Jesu’
, the bloody King of England was
here. To witness her marriage to the earl, no less. She hadn’t been
particularly fearful until this point, and she moved away from the window when
she realized she was growing terrified. What if the king found out what they
were up to? What if he punished the earl and William? What if…what if…what if….?

The dress she was wearing suddenly
wasn’t good enough and she ripped it off, diving into her wardrobe for her
emerald green silk with the golden trim. She struggled to put the dress on and to
fasten the stays, not wanting to take the time to call her maids. With sweating
hands, she put on her hose, garters, and slippers and ran a brush through her
hair. Then she suddenly remembered she had a big green silk ribbon that
accessorized the dress and she plunged into one of her chests to find it.

She tied the ribbon around her head,
pulling her hair off her face. She also dug out a gold and emerald necklace
that had belonged to her mother and put that on as well, standing back after a
moment to study herself in the mirror. Did she look lovely enough to be
presented to the king and queen of England? Would they think her worthy of the
treaty?
Sweet Jesu’
, she hoped so.

Jemma, who had been in the
downstairs hall observing the activity, burst into the antechamber, her face
flushed with excitement.

“Did ye see them?” she exclaimed as
she rushed into Jordan’s bedchamber.

“Aye, I did,” Jordan twisted her
fingers anxiously, then burst out: “Jemma, the bloody King of England is here.
My God, what was I thinking when I married William last night? What is going to
happen if the king finds out? We shall all go to the block.”

“The king is not going to find out,”
Jemma assured her. “Try to calm down. Ye dunna want him to see ye so nervous or
he will think ye a ninny.”

“I am a ninny for letting William
and the earl risk their lives for me.” she wailed.

“Stop that.” Jemma admonished her. “They
dinna do anything they dinna want to. Ye worry over much.”

Jordan paced about like a caged
animal, chewing on her fingernails. Jemma watched her cousin, wondering if she
should go and find William or Paris to calm her down. She knew for a fact that
Jordan could get herself worked up into a frenzy quite easily and she had never
had much luck calming her down.

“Jordan, ye must relax,” she said,
pouring her cousin a cup of wine. “Someone will be coming for ye soon to meet
the king and ye canna meet him all shaking and silly.”

Jordan took the wine and downed it
all in one swallow. “I know,” she grunted as the wine coursed down her throat. “But
I canna help it. I am so scared.”

There was a sharp rap at the
antechamber door and Jemma went out to open it. Kieran and Michael stood in the
doorway, with Kieran smiling pleasantly at Jemma.

“Greetings, my lady,” he said. “Is
Lady Jordan dressed?”

Jemma pulled him into the room. “Aye,
she is, dressed and making herself sick.”

Kieran passed a glance at the
bedchamber door in time to see Jordan passing through it. She looked a little
pale, but other than that, was absolutely ravishing in the green dress.

“My lady,” he greeted her.

Jordan ignored the knights and went
right to the wine decanter. Pouring herself another full cup of wine, she took
two huge gulps before Kieran took the cup away from her.

“No more of that,” he said softly. “You
will need your wits about you when you are presented to the king and queen.”

Jordan stared back at him a moment
before rolling her eyes miserably. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “I think I am going
to be ill.”

“Nay, you are not,” Kieran said
firmly yet gently, taking her arm. “You are going to be fine and bring a great
deal of pride to your countrymen.”

Jordan didn’t know why she should
listen to him, but she did. His wisdom and his tone went beyond mere
superficial words. He had that air about him that he meant what he said. She
liked Kieran; she always had ever since the first night they met, and she was
glad that he and Jemma were coming together.

“When are they expecting me?” she
asked, forcing herself to calm.

“The earl has taken them into the
grand hall for refreshments and they will be expecting you shortly,” he
replied.

She nodded. “Where is my husband?”

“He is with them,” Michael said,
standing next to Kieran. “In fact, the king has latched onto William like a
leech and has refused to let him out of his sight, m-much to William’s
annoyance.”

Jordan smiled at that mental
picture. “Canna exactly be rude to the king now, can he? Then I believe I can
forgive him for not coming to retrieve me himself.”