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Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

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BOOK: The Wolfe
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Paris and Kieran held their lord
back while de Troiu roughly pulled himself free of the knights who had gripped
him.

“‘Tis inexcusable.” de Troiu spat. “You
shall pay for that, de Wolfe.”

“At dawn, de Troiu,” William was
seething anger and hatred. “At dawn on the joust field, I end your miserable
life.”

Jordan, forcing herself to calm now
that they were separated, stepped beside her husband.

“Get out, Daniel,” she said coldly.

De Troiu angrily straightened his
clothing, glaring at Jordan. “My pleasure, my lady, though I must say ‘twill be
a pleasure to claim the prize from tomorrow’s match,” he made sure he was
looking at William. “Mayhap you will bear me twin sons, as well.”

William lurched but Paris and Kieran
restrained him. Michael grabbed de Troiu and half-threw the man from the room.

William was so angry he was white.
He jerked himself free of confining hands and swung away from his knights,
trying to compose himself. Jordan went after him, her soft hands on his back
soothingly. Not one man in that room had ever seen William so angry and they
would be surprised if he waited until the morrow to take de Troiu’s life.

D’Vant stuck his head in through the
door. “My lords?” he said timidly. He had heard the entire exchange and the
ensuing scuffle. “‘Twas my indiscretion to allow the baron entrance. I thought
he would wisely retreat when he saw….”

William turned around. “And you were
wise in your judgment, Roan. ‘Twas good that you allowed him to hang himself.”

Roan looked surprised. “But you are
to fight the baron, my lord. That was never my goal when I let the man pass.”

“But it was my goal the moment I
received the missive from my wife telling me of the earl’s improprieties,”
William was calm enough to put his arm around Jordan’s waist. “Come in here, d’Vant,
and join us as we finish our meal.”

Deeply honored and a bit puzzled, Roan
closed the door behind him and quickly found himself getting acquainted with
Northwood’s knights.

William was a bit embarrassed at his
loss of control and was eager to put the incident behind him. But Jordan sat
next to him, her eyes wide with fear, and he found it difficult to move ahead. He
finally resorted to patting her hand gently and encouraging her to eat, hoping
to take her mind off the subject. She obeyed his request, although the food was
tasteless and she thought she might get sick, but for William’s sake she put up
a brave front.

Jordan was terrified. He would be
fighting a duel for her honor, for their honor, and she was sick at heart. Yet
it was not out of fear for him, for she knew he was the best knight in the
realm and he could easily best de Troiu, but out of the fact that the earl
would be the third man William would have had to punish because of her. First
there had been the boy who had thrown the rock, then there was Earl Corvalis’
son, and now de Troiu. She didn’t like being responsible for these actions.

It was past midnight and Jordan was
just drifting off to sleep after feeding the twins when there was a sharp rap
at the door, William was already awake and, with sword in hand, demanded to
know who it was.

The door flew open in reply and
Henry himself stood in the archway, his distinguished face grim.

“Get up, William,” he ordered in a
low voice. “I would speak with you.”

Fear surged through Jordan; Henry
was angry and she was terrified for William. The man could make or break a life
with the flick of a hand and she wondered wildly if the king had come here to
order her husband to the Tower. There was no telling what de Troiu had told the
king and she knew he was the reason why the monarch stood in her bedchamber.

William rose calmly and dressed in
soft leather breeches, a white tunic and his heavy black boots. He didn’t even
bother to strap on his sword. Jordan watched him, wide-eyed, as he exited the
room behind the king. It took her a moment to realize that he hadn’t said one
word to her.

She jumped from the bed and threw on
a robe, rushing out into the antechamber. It was cold and dark and quiet. Her
panic was rising as she went to the front apartment door and threw it open. Roan’s
piercing blue eyes met her.    

“Where did they go?” she demanded
breathlessly.

“The king and William retreated down
the hall, my lady,” he replied. “I do not know where they have gone.”

She was starting to shake. “Sir Roan,
where are the other knights?”

“Northwood’s knights are housed in
the royal knight’s quarters.”

Her breath coming hard and fast, she
fixed Roan in the eye. “Get me Sir Paris and Sir Kieran.
Now
.”

She slammed the door before he could
reply.

When Kieran and Paris arrived nearly
a half hour later, Jordan was pacing back and forth in the antechamber nearly
out of her mind with worry. When they came in, she ran to Paris.

“The king took him!” she gasped. “He
ordered William out of bed and demanded to speak with him. He’s going to punish
him, I know it.”

Paris grasped her arms and guided
her toward the nearest chair. “Calm down, Jordan,” he said evenly. “You are all
worked up. Now, tell me; just what is Henry supposed to punish William for?”

She looked at him as if he were
daft. “For challenging de Troiu,” she said, throwing up her hands. “Daniel must
have run right to the king and God only knows what he told him. Oh, Paris,
something horrible is going to happen.”

“Nothing horrible is going to
happen,” Paris insisted softly before turning to Kieran. “Why don’t you see
where they have gone and see if you can be of any assistance to William, eh?” He
punctuated the last word with a lift of his blond brows.

Kieran knew what he meant, to wait
outside the door and be prepared to defend William however required. He nodded
shortly and left the room.

“The king was so angry, Paris.” she
went on. “He simply barged into our bedchamber with barely a knock. Oh, God,
will he banish him to the Tower?”

“For what?” Paris repeated. “Jordan,
William has done nothing to warrant punishment. Now you are getting yourself
upset for no reason. Kieran will find out what is going on, and until such time
as he returns, why do not you go back to bed.”

“No,” she snapped.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Aye, you
will. I will wait here and wake you the moment Kieran, or William, returns. I
promise.”

Her mouth pursed stubbornly. “I am
staying right here. I canna sleep.”

“Jordan, a new mother needs her
sleep,” he tried to reason with her. “You receive little enough as it is. Now
will you walk to bed or will I carry you?”

She glared angrily at him, a flash
of retort coming into her eyes, but just as suddenly her expression went soft
and fearful.

“Are ye sure he is not in trouble?”
she begged.

“I am sure enough,” he pulled her
from the chair. “Now, go to bed and sleep peacefully. All will be well.”

With a reluctant glance, she obeyed.
He smiled as her stiff back disappeared into the darkened bedchamber. She could
jump to conclusions faster than anyone he had ever seen.

Paris let out a sigh and went to
pour himself a cup of wine. As he put it to his lips, he suddenly knew it was
going to be a long night.

 

 

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

 

 

Henry had been drinking and William
knew it was not a good sign. Not a word had been spoken the entire way back to
Henry’s private audience chamber but William tried to remain calm. He wondered
if Henry was angry that he had returned from Northwood without announcement, or
if de Troiu had groveled at the monarch’s feet and demanded satisfaction. He
would soon find out.

Henry went to a huge stuffed silk
chair and nearly collapsed in it. He looked pale and tired, and William noticed
that the royal guard and stewards that had comprised their escort had
disappeared. They were alone.

He stood in front of the king for a
long, long time before Henry finally spoke.

“William,” he began slowly. “What is
this that I hear about de Troiu?”

“Baron de Troiu has made unwanted
advances toward my wife, sire,” William said flatly. “I would defend her honor.”

The king looked sharply at him. “You
are my champion, William. You are supposed to defend me at all times. Why are
you not at Northwood defending the crown against the Scots?”

“The Scot insurrection has been
quelled for the moment, sire,” he replied. “I would not have left if I had not
felt it safe to do so.”

The king was peeved. “Then where is
my damn army?” he demanded. “You had better start explaining, baron, for my
patience is wearing thin.”

William took a deep breath. “I left
the army at Northwood under the command of Captain de Moray and Captain
Payton-Forrester of Beverley,” he said evenly. “Although we beat back the Scots
for the moment, Laird Scott seems to think the crisis is not over. He survived
the attack on his fortress, although Langton is nothing more than a dead hulk.
‘Tis best we maintain a show of force at the border until we are sure that the
clans have given up or disbanded. Additionally, Northwood is in a state of
repair and ‘twould not do to have the scots attack and break her down again. I
am returning to Northwood on the morrow and resume my command.”

Henry nodded, a bit more pacified
but he was still piqued. “After you kill de Troiu?”

William’s gaze was steady. “Aye.”

Henry frowned. “I like Daniel, William.
And I like you. I am displeased.”

William’s jaw ticked. “Then I
apologize, sire, but my wife’s honor and reputation are at stake.”

The king squirmed irritably in his
chair. “I know the rumors, William, I heard them. But I paid them no attention
because I know you and I know that you would not have a wife with gutter morals.
Yet I am told she spent time, alone, with de Troiu. How does she explain this
lack of judgment?”

“She was lonely, sire, and she knew
de Troiu previously,” William explained, knowing Jordan sounded like a naive little
girl. “She simply wanted someone to talk to, and she had virtually no friends here
at court. I understand how it looked to observers and I understand how the rumors
started, but the earl did nothing to stop the rumors and even went so far as to
declare his want for my wife. I cannot tolerate that action.”

The king sighed heavily, his hand on
his face and looking at William between splayed fingers. Damn, he was getting
too old for this nonsense. “I understand your anger,” he said quietly. “But I
cannot allow this duel to take place ‘Twould be disruptive and very, very
costly. I sent de Troiu home earlier this evening and by now he is, hopefully,
far away. You will leave on the morrow and take your wife back to Northwood
where she belongs. Lord knows, she needs you around to put some common sense into
that pretty head of hers.”

William was angry and stunned. “You
sent de Troiu home?”

“Aye, I did,” Henry cocked an
eyebrow as if daring William to challenge his decision. “Daniel is mildly
amusing, which is why I have kept him here with me for the past several weeks.
But he was wearing thin with me and when he came to my chambers tonight and
demanded that I punish you for issuing challenge, I’d had enough. He is gone.
And I will hear of no more challenges between you and him, de Wolfe. Deauxville
Mount is nearly as big as Northwood and Questing and I will not have my border earls
quarreling over, of all things, a Scot woman. Is this clear?”

William was rigid. “Aye, Your
Majesty. I trust you explained the same standards to de Troiu?”

Henry scowled. “Of course I did, I
am not daft.”

The room was uncomfortably silent
for several moments while Henry decided if he wanted to go to bed or have more
wine. His stomach was troubling him as well.

“Be gone, my champion,” he said
finally. “Return to the wilds and inform me of the progress. You may also, if
you so choose, select the six hundred troops I promised you for Castle Questing
and send them to your keep. No better time to begin maintaining your seat,
Warden of the North Border.”

William liked the sound of that
title. It eased his anger towards de Troiu. “Will you wish for me to return to
London when the crisis is resolved, sire, or am I to remain at Questing?” he
asked.

“You are my champion, William, until
I say otherwise,” the king replied reprovingly. “You will return to London if I
wish it.”

William, somewhat annoyed and
depressed, nodded. “And I shall obey, sire.”

Henry slouched in his chair,
scratching at his dirty scalp. “And there is another thing; why was the Earl of
Teviot not with you upon your return, as I ordered?”

“Because he is dead,” William
replied bluntly, noting the faint furrow of surprise on Henry’s brow. “He and
his brother fell into a scuffle and the younger de Longley killed the earl in
self-defense.”

BOOK: The Wolfe
10.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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