The Wolfe (66 page)

“My lady, I have been Lady Jordan’s
personal protector and champion since her arrival,” he said steadily. “She has
seen two attacks on her life and the orders from the earl are that she is
never, ever to be without a knight for protection. Am I making myself clear?”

Aloria nodded; she knew of this man
and his reputation and was hugely intimidated, but she also knew her duty.

“Aye, my lord, I understand, but the
fact remains…,” she went on.

William stopped her. “The fact
remains that she is far safer with me than with you, considering we know nothing
about you,” he meant it as an insult. “Therefore, until such a time as you can
be deemed trustworthy, I will continue to have free access to Lady Jordan, day
or night.”

Aloria’s face turned red. “The queen
considers me trustworthy, sire, and her authority exceeds yours,” she shot
back. “If you find my presence so difficult, then you will have to discuss it
with her. Until such time as I hear differently, I will staunchly refuse to
allow you, as you called it, ‘free access’.”

Jordan cringed. She was standing in
between them and felt William reach down and pull her out of the way. He
towered over Aloria, his beautiful face dark.

“It is not your place to give me
orders, woman,” he growled. “You can make this easy or you can make it
difficult; the choice is yours. You must trust me enough to know that I would
not compromise Lady Jordan’s reputation or station. I am not a dimwit and I
understand protocol better than you do. Take that tone with me again and you
risk a great deal.”

Shaken, Aloria felt as if the
hazel-gold eyes were burning her. “Forgive me if I have acted disrespectfully, my
lord, but I only have Lady Jordan’s best interests in mind. And I must still
refuse you free access.”

William glared at her a moment
longer and she truly thought he might strike her, but instead, he turned
abruptly on his heel and disappeared into the castle.

Aloria let out a relieved sigh,
realizing that she was shaking with fear. Jordan looked back at the woman
impassively, although she was impressed to see that she had stood her ground
against William. Foolish, but brave.

“He’s a nasty one,” Aloria murmured.

With a grin, Jordan brushed past
her. “Not really.”

***

Jemma was sitting in front of her
loom when Jordan and Aloria returned. Kieran had been gone a good half-hour,
leaving Jemma alone to bask in her newfound happiness. Her cheeks were a
perpetual pink, evidence of the new light from within and she hummed cheerily as
she worked. Never had she felt so entirely content.

But her good humor fled and she
stiffened when Aloria came into the room, glaring at the woman with tangible
hostility. Jordan noticed right away, hoping she would not have to referee any
fights. It seemed that ever since Aloria’s arrival, the woman had done nothing
but ruffle feathers and Jordan was concerned that she might have to play the
peacemaker between her and the others.  It was not a position she wanted to
find herself in.

But she pretended not to notice the
animosity as she kicked off her slippers and sat down to her sewing; she was
embroidering the cuffs of a dress Joana had made. Aloria, seeing that her
mistress was busying herself, pulled a piece of needlepoint from her belongings
and sat primly in the corner as she worked quietly.

There were a thousand things Jemma
wanted to tell Jordan, and visa-versa. But they kept silent with the strange
woman in the room, focusing their attention on their sewing. Yet it didn’t keep
the glances from passing between them.

“Where did Kieran go?” Jordan asked
her cousin.

Jemma’s face came up and she knew
she was blushing. “I dunna know. Off to his duties, I suspect. Where is Analiese?”

“Tending our queen,” Jordan said. “She
has always wanted to go to court, ye know, and now she actually has a chance to
serve the queen while she’s here. She’s in heaven.”

“Mayhap the earl will send her to
London when the king and queen return,” Jemma remarked.

Jordan glanced over at her
lady-in-waiting, sitting invisibly in the shadows. The woman looked positively
lonely and she felt a stab of pity for her. “Aloria, where did ye foster?” she
asked simply to bring her into the conversation.

Aloria’s head came up from the book,
surprised to be invited to speak. “In Gloucester, my lady. I went to foster
when I was five years old.”

Both Jordan and Jemma looked up at
her. “What?” Jordan demanded. “Why on earth were ye so young? ‘Tis madness.”

Aloria looked at both ladles
unemotionally. It had been so long ago that she had forgotten the pain of being
abandoned.

“My mother wished it,” she said simply.

“But why?” Jemma asked. “Were ye a
naughty child that she dinna want ye around? To be only five years old and
fostering is terrible.”

“‘Twas not so bad, “ Aloria murmured
into her book. “‘Twas better than staying home.”

Jordan heard the last sentence,
uttered very quietly. She set down her embroidery. “Yer home life was unhappy?”

Her voice was so soft and soothing
that Aloria felt herself instantly becoming comfortable with her new mistress’
manner. She could already see she was not at all like the women of Windsor, conniving
and petty and nasty. She was gentle and sweet, and had an air of kindness about
her. Aloria had never been around anyone such as Lady Jordan and was a bit
unbalanced; she had grown terribly accustomed to always being on the defensive.

It had been so long since Aloria had
been around decent people she had nearly forgotten how to act. She had never
been good at playing court games as it was, and there was something about Lady
Jordan that made her want to open up.

“Aye,” she said after a moment. “Verily.”

Jordan felt sorry for the big-boned
lass. “Was yer family cruel?”

Aloria looked at her, wondering why
in the world she felt like confiding in this woman, this Scot. She had always
been so good at covering up her emotions, at evading them, but now she felt
like spilling them all out to this gentle woman. And she still had no idea why.

“Not cruel, not really,” she said
softly. “You see, I am a bastard, the result of a liaison between my mother,
the Countess of Devon, and the earl’s chief steward. Yet the earl publicly
accepted me as his child,  fed me and kept a roof over my head, yet he could
not stand the sight of me so when I was five years old, I was sent away to
foster. I have been fostering ever since.”

Jordan’s jaw dropped in sympathy. Jemma,
too, was misty with pity.

“Aloria, how terrible for ye,” Jemma
exclaimed softly. “Have ye never had a true home, then?”

This woman speaking was certainly
not the she-devil Aloria had run into earlier. She was speaking and acting
gently, like her cousin. What was it about these two women that made her feel
suddenly comfortable, suddenly as if her words mattered? She didn’t know, only
knowing that these two Scots weren’t like any English she had ever met. She
found herself telling them things she had never voiced to anyone.

“Not really,” Aloria shrugged. “Not
until I came to serve the queen at my mother’s request, but even then I didn’t
truly fit in. I am not the very model of a true court lady.”

“Why not?” Jordan demanded. “You are
pretty, and well-groomed, and knowledgeable.”

Aloria gave her mistress a weak
smile. “But I am not tiny and fragile like the rest of them, like the both of
you,” she replied. “True ladles are tiny little things that men like to take
care of. No one wants to take care of me.”

Jordan and Jemma looked at each
other as if the thought had never before occurred to them. And Jemma began to
feel exceeding guilty about the name-calling earlier.

“Aloria, I dinna mean it when I
called ye a cow,” Jemma said sheepishly. “Everybody looks like a cow to me
because I am so short.”

Aloria actually smiled at Jemma. “I
started it, my lady, by calling you a bug. And I do apologize for that.”

Jemma grinned back and waved her
off. “I have been called worse,” she pointed at Jordan. “By her, no less.”

Aloria gave a little laugh as Jordan
nodded vehemently. Then her new mistress fixed her with a pleasant gaze.

“You’ll fit here, Aloria,” Jordan
assured her softly. “I promise ye will.”

Aloria did not even dare to hope but
she nodded. “If I survive,” she said, half in jest. “The knights look as if
they want to kill me, especially the captain.”

Jordan cocked a confident eyebrow
and sat back in her chair. “Let me tell ye a little secret about the knights of
Northwood, Aloria. A little honey and they will be eating out of yer hand.”

Aloria looked puzzled and ashamed. “I
do not know if I would know how. Men usually stay away from me.”

“Not anymore,” Jordan replied. “If
you are with me, then they’ll be near you. Just do what I do.”

Aloria gave a timid little giggle. “I
can but try, my lady. But will it work with the captain?”

“Nay.” Jemma exclaimed vehemently. “Nothing
works with that man. Ye’ll simply have to bow and scrape at his feet if ye want
him to even be civil to ye.”

Jordan glanced at her cousin as she
talked about her husband. Was William really so cold to other women and she had
not ever noticed because of the attention he gave her, or was Jemma exaggerating
again? She wondered.

But Aloria took Jemma for her word. “Then
I shall be as respectful as possible to him,” she passed a glance at Jordan. “Providing
he does as he is asked.”

Jordan almost smiled, remembering
the angry words between Aloria and William. She knew William would most
certainly not do as he was asked, and Aloria would not back down. It would
prove to be an interesting test of wills.

The women sat for quite a while with
companionable conversation, feeling infinitely more comfortable with each
other. Jemma and Aloria seemed to have completely forgotten about the bad start
they’d had and for that, Jordan was glad. She didn’t want to play the mediator
for the rest of her days.

They discovered that Aloria was
actually very humorous in a droll sort of way and Jordan was coming to like her.
Her initial rigid manner had all been superficial, to please the queen and the earl,
but in private she had loosened tremendously. Her misgivings of the court woman
had vanished.

By mid-afternoon, there was a harsh
rap at the door. Aloria rose and opened it to find Kieran and Deinwald standing
in the opening. Kieran looked right at her.

“You, woman,” he said coldly. “Come
with me.”

Jordan had never heard Kieran use
that tone and she stood up. “Why?”

“Orders from the earl, my lady.” His
tone was instantly gentle again as he addressed her.

“What orders, Kieran?” Jordan
stepped forward as if to protect Aloria from the men.

“I do not know, only that I have
been ordered to bring her to the earl and the captain,” he answered.

Immediately, Jordan knew why.
William had run right to the earl after the confrontation with Aloria and
demand she be removed. He had no idea what had transpired in the past couple of
hours in the privacy of Jordan’s chambers, and Jordan did not want to lose her
new lady-in-waiting. She liked her and was deeply distressed at the prospect of
homeless Aloria being displaced again.

Aloria’s family had not wanted her,
and now Northwood would pledge the same. Jordan could not let that happen.
Aloria must have a home.

“I am going,” Jordan said shortly.

“The orders were only for Lady
Aloria, my lady,” Kieran said firmly.

Jordan gave him a look daring him to
stop her. “I am going, I said.”

Kieran didn’t outwardly react, but
Deinwald pursed his lips irritably and Jordan glared at him. “Dunna look at me
like that, Deinwald Ellsrod, or I shall box yer ears.”

He cleared his throat and stepped
back, leaving Kieran to take the abuse should it come to that. Kieran, for his
part, looked long at Jordan.

“Very well,” he agreed reluctantly. “So
do not box my ears.”

She nodded curtly, not giving in to
his humor for she knew the situation to be serious. She was going to do battle
with the earl and William on Aloria’s behalf and she must be mentally prepared.
They would not take her lady from her.

Over the top of Jordan’s head,
Kieran’s gaze found Jemma sitting in front of her loom. She smiled her sweet
little smile at him and he felt himself go warm and silly inside. He was so
glad to see that, upon reflection, making love to him had not been a mistake in
her eyes. He gave her a wink and closed the door behind the ladies.

Kieran and Deinwald took them
directly to the earl’s private solar. When Kieran opened the door, Jordan
pushed right in with Aloria at her heels.

De Longley was sitting at his desk
and William was leaning against the wall, both men engrossed in their
conversation. William turned when he heard the door open, fully expecting
Aloria, but very surprised to see his wife. And the hard, determined look on
her face doubly surprised him.