The Wolfe (106 page)

Close to dawn Jordan awoke from a
dreamless sleep and they ate some bread before continuing on. Then greatest
fear was that William and Kieran were closing the gap that separated them and
that they would not make it to Langton at all. They had married clever men with
deductive minds and they had no doubt that William and Kieran had figured out
where they were headed. So with renewed determination, they pushed on.

They rode the entire morning without
stopping, an amazing achievement. A bit of cheese and fruit for the nooning
meal, and they were off again. The horses performed beautifully and when they crossed
the no-man’s-land of Carter Bar, they thrilled with the knowledge that they
were almost home. Muted heather coated the soft hills and suddenly they
realized just how much they missed their country. As much as they had grown to
love England, Scotland was
home
.

Before sunset they passed into
familiar territory. This was Langton land, and Jordan nearly got down from the
horse to kiss the earth. The smells, the sights, were the same as she had
always remembered and her heart was crying for her father. They were almost
home.

Another hour passed before the
burnt-out structure of Langton came into view. Destroyed or not, it was the
most beautiful sight they had ever seen and both women shed happy tears. Jordan
was thrilled imagining how surprised her father would be to see her and they spurred
the horses into the final stretch.

The wall was down, bricks strewn
about, but there was a clear passage in and out of the courtyard. The bodies
had long since been gone but the entire place felt like a ghost yard. Timidly,
Jordan and Jemma dismounted, their eyes still drinking in the sight of their
beloved home. But they had known what to expect and were beyond tears of grief.
Still, the shock was unnerving and left them with a hollow feeling in their
souls.

Jordan was the first to move forward
through the rubble. The debris were time-worn, old, as if the elements had
beaten them down until they had become a part of the landscaping. As her
shapely legs in the snug black breeches picked then way through the field, she
could only think that this was not her Langton. The sights, the smells, the
atmosphere were not the same and she realized with stinging eyes that her Langton
died in that attack months ago. This was a phantom, a grotesque effigy to what
had once been.

As she approached the huge stone steps,
a figure appeared in the doorway laden with a massive sword. Startled, she
froze in her tracks with fear until recognition descended on her like a boom.

“Da!” she cried.

Thomas hadn’t recognized his
daughter in the peasant clothing she was wearing and had come to defend his
home against intruders, albeit two small ones. When he heard her voice, saw her
face, his mind suddenly went blank and the sword clattered to the cold stone.

The next thing Jordan knew she was
in his arms as he swung her off the ground, squeezing her until she could not
breathe. Tears of absolute joy streamed down her cheeks as she hugged her
father, easing a year of catastrophic pain and separation.

“Jordi!” he finally gasped, as if he
had trouble believing what he was saying. “Jordan Mary Joseph Scott. What in
the name of God are ye doing here?”

“I had to come,” she told him in
between sniffles and gasps. “My husband told me what happened and I had to see
for myself. I had to see ye.”

Thomas was shaking with shock and
excitement as his green eyes raked his daughter’s face. “Did he bring ye here?”
he demanded. “I told him it wasna safe for ye. Where is he?”

Jordan looked ashamed, shaken. “He
dinna bring me. Jemma and I… we ran away. Neither one of our husbands would
bring us, so we brought ourselves.”

“Ye did
what
?” Thomas boomed
in disbelief, then looked for the first time to his niece a couple of feet
away. “Jemma Scott! Ye little minx, ye had yer parents worried to death with
yer disappearance. Cord told us where ye had gone but we found it hard to believe
ye’d be so foolhardy.” He held out his arm to her and she fell into his embrace.
“Oh, Jemma, I should take a strap to ye right here and now. I should take a
strap to both of ye.”

“Dunna be angry,” Jordan pleaded. “We
just wanted to come home.”

She started to cry again; both women
were crying and Thomas hugged them close. Lord, he was so glad to see them
again even if they were daft for coming.

“Ye came here alone? Just the two of
ye?” he repeated quietly.

Jordan nodded. “But no doubt William
and Kieran are close behind us.”

“Kieran? Who’s Kieran?” Thomas
demanded.

“My husband, Uncle Thomas,” Jemma
supplied.

“Ye married an Englishman, too?” he
looked down at her dark head. “Ye hated English more than any of us, lass.”

“Kieran is a sweetheart of a man, Da,”
Jordan said, looking at her cousin. “And he’s as big as a tree.”

“So is that mountainous man ye’re
married to,” Thomas reminded her. “I could hardly believe my Jordi married The
Wolf.”

She smiled up at her father happily,
reacquainting herself with his face. “Aye, I did, and I love him with all my
heart. He is not as the legends paint him to be. He is wonderful.”

Thomas made a wry smirk. “He may
very well turn into The Wolf of legend when he catches up with ye. How could ye
be so daft? He will murder us both.”

“Nay, he will not,” she kissed her
father on the cheek. “Oh, Da, ‘tis so good to be home!”

***

William would not ride into Scotland
with anything less than a fully functional fighting army. With two hundred mounted
archers flanking the column, he mobilized 800 men within two hours and set off
for the border.

He set a hard pace, planting himself
at the very head of the army and speaking to no one. He was as grim and as
serious as anyone had ever seen him. They would march until they reached Langton
and plow through anyone who got in their way. He fully realized that the
intrusion of a huge English army into Scotland would be interpreted as an act
of war, but he was willing to take the gamble. Jordan could very easily be in
the hands of the enemy right now and he was prepared to burn down the whole of
Scotland to get her back.

All the while he kept thinking what
he was going to say to her when he found her. Half of him wanted to take a
switch to her luscious white behind for her flagrant disobedience, but the
other half of him simply wanted to hold her close and thank God that she was
safe. The fact that she newly carried his babe cut into him like a white-hot
blade of anguish. He was, in fact, going to be rescuing two lives that belonged
to him and he prayed with a passion that he would not be too late. God, what
this woman did to him.

Roan rode behind him, watching The
Wolf’s straight back and wondering if his cousin had received the missive. Was
Andrew mobilizing at that very moment, or had the missive had been burned in a
fit of haughty laughter? He furthermore wondered if William was going to skin
him alive for his interference. He was extremely hopeful that everything would
work out as he had planned, but he pondered with every fall of his destrier’ s
hooves if his actions were those of an intelligent man. Who in their right mind
would undermine the legendary Wolf?

Paris, Kieran and Adam rode a little
behind William, flanking him. Michael, Ranulf, Deinwald, Jason and Marc rode
behind them, leaving Corin and Roan bringing up the rear of the auspicious
group, directly in front of the men-at-arms. A departure from their usual
battle marches, there was no light conversation and no laughter. They were all
silent; deadly silent.

Adam, even as the new earl, had
insisted on going. William could see that the young man would not be content to
be a passive leader, as his father had been. Adam had been training for the
knighthood most of his life and fully intended to take an active role in
leading his army. William was glad for the first time that he was no longer
captain of Northwood’s forces, for he certainly did not want to compete with
Adam and he was used to being the sole leader in battle. He wondered how Paris
was dealing with Adam’s new role, for the man had said nothing. And it
furthermore gave him the hope that Paris might consider moving with him to
Questing, leaving the young earl to lead Northwood.

William could only guess that he was
four or five hours behind his wife, enough time for her to get into trouble.
William gripped the reins tighter; ever since he had met her he had been unable
to prevent harm from befalling her. The arrow, the infection and fever, the
attack from the soldier, and de Troiu’s vicious attempt to take her… he had
felt as if he had failed her in those situations, as much as he knew otherwise.
He was not used to failure in any way.

And he would not fail her now. He
may die trying, but he would not fail her.

CHAPTER FIFTY TWO

It was close to dawn but Thomas had
not slept the entire night. He sat awake, watching his daughter and niece
sleeping on the stone floor, afraid if he slept he would awake and discover it
was all a dream. He smiled at the two of them, sleeping exhaustedly. So he was
to be a grandfather again, as well as a grand-uncle. ‘Twas the nearly the only
bit of information they discussed before they both fell into a fatigued sleep.
But he was gravely worried, for both their sakes.

They had to leave Scotland and
return home, for he was fearful that the clans would catch wind of their visit
and come for them. The thought of his sweet Jordan in enemy hands was enough to
make him sweat with panic; lord, what they would do to her. And to Jemma, too.
All of the knights in England could not save them if the clans came.

They had to leave immediately, he
decided firmly. And as they could not go alone, he would have to take them himself.
As joyful as he was to see them both, to know they were both happy and healthy,
he knew he had to get them the hell out of Scotland or their pleasant state
would be temporary.

Jordan awoke after daybreak to the
beloved face of her father. He greeted her warmly and offered her a bit of
cheese and watered wine for breakfast. She ate Jemma’s, too, for when her
cousin awoke, she went right to the basin and vomited.

“She is having a worse time than I
am,” Jordan told her father solemnly.

In the daylight, Thomas showed them
what had become of the fortress. His mood was upbeat, however, in that he planned
great renovations. He insisted the clans did him a favor by forcing him to
revamp his keep, but it was a still sobering sight. He furthermore proceeded to
show Jemma the graves of her mother and brother and held her while she cried. But
the remaining unspoken question was apparent in both of the women’s
expressions.

“Where did they take Callie?” Jordan
asked finally. “And where are Uncle Matthew and Ian, and the rest of them?”

Thomas shook his head sadly. “I
dunna know, lass. I havena heard anything about them. All I can imagine is that
they are prisoners, somewhere.”

“Then ye dunna think they are dead?”
Jemma whispered.

“Nay, lass, I dunna,” he said
firmly. “I feel that they are very much alive, although I dunna know why I feel
that way. They are somewhere, holed up in someone’s keep.”

“All of them?” Jordan wanted to
know.

“Aye,” Thomas was amazingly
confident in his answers. “I simply canna believe that the clans would wipe all
of the Scotts out.”

Jordan watched her father in the
morning light. He was much grayer and thinner than she remembered. “Who, then?”
she demanded in a whisper. “And where?”

He looked at her. “Ye want my
opinion? I canna give ye facts,” he replied. “I think it is the McKenna because
of Malcolm’s ties to them. Dunbar McKenna is a mean bastard and an opportunist.
His plans were foiled to destroy Northwood, and with Scott hostages, he still
has a bargaining chip with the English.”

Jordan shook her head. “Why, Da? Why
is this man so determined to destroy us?”

Thomas sighed. “Oh, Jordan, it’s an
old tale,” he said wearily. “Dunbar doesna have one specific reasons. Sure, he
says he wants to control the border, but what he most desires is wealth. He’s
never had any to speak of. And he keeps changing his mind as to how he wants to
get it. First, he wanted ye and Abner pledged to get his hands on Scott money.
Then, it was the border scheme. With him, ‘tis always something. Which is why
yer mother never married him.”

Jordan looked at him, stunned. “Mother?
Marry Dunbar McKenna?”

“Oh, he wanted her badly, I can tell
ye,” Thomas nodded firmly. “Pursued Elinor, wooed her, but she saw him for what
he was. And then I married her and Dunbar was forever jealous of me. I shudder
to think what he would have done to ye if ye had married Abner. He lusted for
Elinor something fierce.”

Jordan shook her head. “I never knew
that,” she said faintly.

Thomas shrugged. “There was never
any reason for ye to.”