The Wolfe (93 page)

Adam’s smile faded and William could
read the turmoil. He decided to get right to the point, for the young man’s
sake. No use in pretending he didn’t know what had happened. “Tell me what
happened with Alexander,” he asked gently.

Adam’s handsome face was pale He was
a sensitive lad and had obviously suffered a great deal.

“Alexander had become unreasonable
after father died,” he began quietly. “He had power and a name and he acted as
if he was God. He began ordering all sorts of extravagant renovations to
Northwood, he began planning a huge party, and he decided that Northwood was so
powerful that she need no longer be loyal to the crown.”

“You mean he intended to declare
himself independent of England?” William asked with astonishment.

Adam nodded. “For all intent and
purposes, yes. He thought father was foolish for all of the alliances he had
built up when Northwood herself was so powerful,” he shook his head. “He simply
did not understand. The only thing Alexander had ever cared about was money and
power, and to hell with the reality of how those things are achieved. He
believed our king to be a stupid old man and unworthy to be his liege. I think
he was bordering on madness.”

William nodded grimly. “Alexander
was always on the brink of insanity. But this is far beyond what I believed him
capable of.”

Adam sighed. “When I tried to talk
to him, to reason with him, he would become enraged and throw things at me. He
was mad, I tell you, and it soon became apparent that he did not want me
around.”

William sat silently, watching the
young man’s agony. His appearance as well as his manner told William a great
deal; first to lose his father, and then to kill his brother, was creating a
tremendous sense of confusion within him.

The young earl took a drink from the
cup at his hand and continued. “I began to fear for my life, although Paris and
the other knights swore they would protect me,” he shook his head, his eyes
dull at the irony. “Protect me from my brother. Then it came one night that we
had a fearsome argument over Northwood’s alliance to Langton; Alexander accused
me of treason and all sorts of horrible things and before I realized it, he was
coming at me with a dagger. God, it all happened so fast. I drew my sword and
cut him down. I killed him.”

“You defended yourself,” William
said softly. “Alexander would have murdered you and you simply defended
yourself. ‘Tis no shame in that, Adam.”

Adam looked miserable. “But I am a
knight. With all of my training, I should have been able to disarm him instead
of kill him. I should have thought before I swung my sword.”

“Had you thought, you most likely
would have died,” William said. “Adam, simply because you have been trained and
knighted does not necessarily mean that you instantly achieve experience. To
become a seasoned warrior takes time. You are blaming yourself for following
your training and you should not.”

Adam looked at the earl, thinking on
his words. “But I killed my brother.”

“Would you rather have died?”
William shot back gently. “Why do you torture yourself for protecting your own
life?”

Adam lowered his gaze, looking very
weary. Half of his agony was caused by the fact that he truly didn’t know his
brother. He had only recently returned home and had not the chance to get
acquainted with him, and even though he had been told such, he didn’t want to
believe his brother was an utterly evil person. All of the knights at Northwood
who had served John de Longley knew exactly what kind of person Alexander was.
Adam simply did not want to believe ill of his only brother, even when the man
came at him with a knife.

He sighed. “Thank you, my lord. I
value your words.”

William rose from the chair. “And
never forget, young earl, that I am never wrong,” he said, half-jesting. “If I
may be so bold, ‘tis time you come to grips with what has happened and get on with
your life. You are the Earl of Teviot now and a great responsibility has fallen
on you. You have a great legacy to uphold.”

Adam looked up at him, doubt and
hope hand and hand in his expression. “I will do my best.”

William put a hand on the young
man’s shoulders. “That will be enough.”

He quit the room, hoping he had done
some good to ease the lad’s mind. But it was something Adam would have to deal
with himself, no matter what anyone said. He felt it would be best if Adam
delved back into the battle clean-up to clear his mind, but he would not
suggest it until the morrow. Let the new earl get a good night’s sleep first,
which was exactly what he was planning to do.

He was home.

***

Nearly three weeks had passed since
William had left London for the great wild north. Jordan ached for him every
minute of the day, every time she held one of her sons. But the nights were the
worst, sleeping alone in the great bed in the strange London apartments. She
wanted to go home to Northwood desperately.

In spite of her loneliness, she had
somewhat enjoyed her stay at Windsor. Court life was busy and exciting, and Analiese
had thrust herself into the mainstream of the bustle and came home every
evening with scads of gossip. Watching Analiese at court made Jordan think that
the woman had finally found her niche in life. She had blossomed in personality
and character, although she had begun to keep strange company with some wildly
painted women.

Jordan, to fight off the boredom,
had taken to gathering with Analiese and her new friends as well, attending
church with them as well as various social functions. Word soon got around that
the exquisite new woman was none other than The Wolf’s wife and with William
gone on the king’s work, Jordan soon found herself besieged with male admirers.

At first she had ignored the
attention and endured a great deal of teasing from Analiese. But soon, her patience
was beginning to wear thin, as was the tolerance of Analiese’s new friends.
Jealousy had begun to blossom for the beautiful Scot, but they dare not insult
her for fear of offending her husband.

One of Jordan’s chief admirers was
none other than Baron de Troiu. He had come to London on business and remained
by request of the king. The earl’s troops had been involved in the battle for
Northwood, but the man did not take a personal interest in leading his troops
and was unconcerned with Captain Brockenhurst leading his men. Moreover, his
support of Northwood made Jordan feel as if she had a friend in him and kept
fairly steady company with him simply because she was lonely and he was a
friendly, familiar face.

She thought nothing of the cozy
meals they would take together in her rooms or of the walks through the palace
gardens. He was witty and wise and she liked to talk to him. He seemed very
interested in what she had to say, much like William, and keeping company with
the baron eased her aching heart and made her deeply long for her husband at
the same time. It was a strange paradox.

Jordan’s first mistake was her
innocence. Never having been to court before, she had no knowledge of the
intrigue that went on. Gossip was something fairly new to her, never once
imagining that she would become the subject of some of the hottest rumors to
hit Windsor in years. She thought Baron de Troiu to be her friend, and a friend
only. To imagine having a liaison with him in William’s absence had never
entered her mind.

It was late in the morning and
Jordan had been up since before dawn. Scott had the colic and she had spent
hours walking trying to comfort the babe. Finally, he went back to sleep and
she took the opportunity to bathe and wash her hair. She sat in front of her
huge bronze dressing mirror, drying her hair in the warm room air, wondering
how William was faring.
Sweet Jesu
, she missed him.

On the dressing table was a note
from de Troiu, requesting her presence for a ride later on that day. She
thought it might be nice to get out in the air after the hellish night she’d
had with Scott but had yet to reply to the note; she suspected Daniel would be
around to see her later that morning, as he usually did.

Analiese entered the room, carrying
an armful of freshly washed linens for the babies. She deposited them on the
bed, wandering over to Jordan and taking the brush from her hands, taking over
the job of drying Jordan’s hair.

“I heard the baby this morn,” she
said casually. “Thank God he sleeps.”

Jordan nodded, watching her hair as
it tumbled down around her shoulders with each stroke. “Aye,” she yawned. “I am
exhausted. Scott is colicky most of the time, but Troy is a dream. And he even
eats more than his brother.”

Analiese nodded, watching Jordan’s
hair as it caught the light. She eyed her friend a moment in the mirror. “Jordan,
‘tis none of my business, of course, but you should know that there are… rumors.”

“What kind of rumors?” Jordan asked
innocently.

“About you and Baron de Troiu,” Analiese
said. “You have been spending some time with him and….”

Jordan’s brow furrowed. “Just what
are ye saying?”

Analiese looked at Jordan in the
mirror. “I am not
saying
anything. I am simply repeating what is already
being said. There are those who suspect that there is more going on than simply
friendship.”

Jordan leapt from the chair, angrily
facing Analiese. “Dunna even say what ye have heard, Analiese de Longley, for
it is a bloody lie. I love my husband and I would never, ever…even entertain
what ye’re suggesting.”

Analiese truly thought she was doing
Jordan a favor by telling her what she had heard. She put up her hands in
appeal. “I was not suggesting it, Jordan, I was simply trying to tell you what
I had heard.”

Jordan was flaming mad. “Who told ye
these vicious lies, Analiese? Tell me who it is and I will cut out their tongue.”

“It wasn’t one person in particular,”
Analiese told her. “The whole castle is talking about it, and de Troiu is not
doing anything to stop the rumors. He has made it well known that he wants you.”

Jordan stomped her foot to release
some of her pent-up anger. “Wants me?” she repeated, outraged. “’Tis
ridiculous! I am a married woman and I love my husband!”

Analiese nodded patiently. “I know
you do, but….”

Jordan cut her off. “How dare he say
such things. He knows I am devoted to William!”

Analiese let out a sigh and sat on
the edge of the bed. “He isn’t entirely to blame, you know,” she said as if
Jordan should have thought of such things. “You
have
been spending a
good deal of time with him. Alone.”

“I thought he was my friend.” Jordan
said, angry and pleading at the same time. “He was so nice to me at Northwood
and when we met here at court I thought it would be nice to have someone to
talk to other than those silly friends that follow ye around.” She suddenly
stopped raging and looked at Analiese. Realization came over her and she sank
down on the bed beside her friend. “Oh, no, Analiese… what is it that I have
done? I never meant…I mean, at no time did I ever even…oh,
damn
.”

Analiese looked at her. “I know,
Jordan,” she said, comfortingly. “I know you well enough to know that your
intentions were purely innocent. But everyone else thinks that you are an
adulteress and de Troiu could not be more pleased and proud.”

Jordan felt sick. Because of her
naiveté, William was shamed. Damn de Troiu. If he only hadn’t come to London,
if she only hadn’t been so eager for a friend, if only…. But the blame lay with
her regardless. What would happen when William found out? She could only
shudder at the possibilities.

She had to tell him before he heard
from other sources. She knew he was fighting heavily and she should not
distract him with such nonsense, but she had to tell him. She had to beg him to
let her come home, away from this den of sin. So what if there was fighting,
she’d been in battles before. She wanted to go home, to take her babies home
where they belonged. She had to get the hell away from de Troiu.

“I have got to get a message to
William,” she murmured decisively. “Analiese, find me a bit of parchment and a
quill. I have got to write to William and beg him to bring me home.”

Analiese rose and went into the
antechamber, returning in a moment with the requested items. As Jordan sat
huddled over the table and carefully wrote out her message, Analiese watched
her with some hesitation.

“When you return, Jordan,” she began
softly. “I would remain here at court. I like it here.”

Jordan glanced up at her, not
surprised by the declaration. “You fit in here, Analiese I do not.”

She probably should have calmed down
before she wrote the message, for in the end it looked as if she was in mortal
danger if he did not allow her to come home. She did not mince words when she
wrote of de Troiu, painting him out to be some sort of incubus and she his
hapless victim which, in fact, she nearly was.

Rereading the message and pleased
with its urgent note, she sanded it, sealed it well, and carried it out into
the hall where one of the king’s guards stood watch.