The Wolfe (32 page)

“Now,” the earl turned to her before
his daughter had even regained her seat. “You will sing.”

Jordan stood begrudgingly and made
her way to the musicians. She had sung before her clan many times, but this English
crowd was unfamiliar and she hoped she would not make a fool of herself. After
a brief conversation with the minstrels, she turned to face the room half-full
of family and soldiers.

William was watching her like a
hawk. She was so poised and lovely, standing like an angel the way the dress
was swathed about her body. Her luscious hair came over her right shoulder,
spilling over her full breasts and hanging in waves to her waist. He should not
have been thinking the perfectly seductive things he was thinking, but he could
not help himself.

The music began and the room went silent.
Jordan’s voice filled the air as rich and pure as a heady spring breeze. She
sang a Gaelic song, her lilt sweet and charming and her voice clearly one that
was superior to anything anyone in the room had ever experienced. She could
manipulate a note so precisely that it left one breathless with delight,
waiting for the next phrase with relish in a brief few moment. She had managed
to captivate a room of people without any effort at all.

William was astounded. True, he had
heard her sing once but it had been nothing like this. It was as if she was
singing only to him the way her voice reached out and grabbed his attention,
caressing his ears with its soft lilt and bell tones. He found himself leaning
forward, propping his elbows on the table and pressing his mouth against folded
hands. He could not take his eyes from her and he would have been content to
listen to her sing for the rest of his days.

He wasn’t the only one who felt that
way. The earl commanded her to sing three more songs, only relenting when she
begged to rest. He motioned her back to the table and poured her a sloppy glass
of wine himself.

“You lied to me,” he accused gently.
“Ye can indeed sing like the blessed virgin herself and do not deny it. You
must sing for me every evening.”

She took a sip of wine to ease her
strained throat. “My lord is most kind.”

The musicians were joined by two
mummers wearing outrageously colored trappings and pointy hats that jingled
merrily. As the mummers began to work the room, William leaned slightly in
Jordan’s direction.

“You were magnificent,” he said
quietly.

She nodded coolly to him, keeping
her gaze averted. If he could compliment her, then he could tell her what had
become of her cousin. An eternity of silence spread between them as the mummers
joked and danced, and Jordan sat back in her chair with her wine in hand.

William’s chair was slightly forward
and she could see his strong profile as he watched the crowd. Not the mummers
or the musicians, but the crowd. She felt the urge to shock him, purely due to
the fact that she was angry with him.

“I am to be punished with Lady Jemma,”
she said loud enough for him to hear her.

He turned slowly. “What did you say?”

Their eyes met. “I said, I am to be
punished with Lady Jemma. The earl said I gave him little choice in the matter.”

William’s eyes changed color before
her, she swore it. One minute they were beautiful hazel-gold, the next they
were dark and cloudy. His face held no notable expression as he stared at her a
moment. She held her breath, waiting to see what he would do next.

It did not take long for him to rise
from his chair and go around her, approaching the earl from the opposite side
so their conversation would not be for her ears. She did not look at them but
her ears were keenly tuned to the hum of their conversation, trying vainly to
make out any word at all.

When the conversation was concluded,
he returned and seated himself. She looked expectantly, trying not to appear
fearful.

“Well?” she demanded quietly. “What
will it be? Fifty lashes at dawn with the cat o’ nine tails?”

“Not for you, anyway,” he replied
casually.

She sat forward so fast wine sloshed
out of her cup. “What does that mean? Do ye mean to say ye will lash Jemma?”

“I will not discuss this with you,”
he said coolly. “What the earl orders and I carry out is none of your affair.”

Jordan felt an almost physical blow
from his attitude. Swallowing hard, she sat back in the chair again and silently
contemplated Jemma’s immediate future.

She was tired, too, compounding her
raging emotions. She was sick of the musicians and she thought the mummers were
stupid and she was glad they were not singing her praises or she just might
throw something at them.

Over on the opposite side of the
table, she could see that Analiese was rising, saying her good-nights to her
brothers and asking permission from her father to retire. He granted her with a
wave of his hairy hand.

“William will escort you.” He
flipped his wrist in William’s direction.

Jordan thought twice before snubbing
Analiese’s departure. Rising from her chair, she curtsied. “Good-sleep, Lady
Analiese. And I do apologize for the turbulent evening.”

Analiese looked her up and down
before replying. “You would do good to learn humility, Lady Jordan, and rid
yourself of your Scot temperament.”

Jordan’s cheeks threatened to flush
bright red but she merely bowed, doubly upset when she saw Analiese take
William’s arm with obvious delight, speaking to him in cooing tones. She was
suddenly so angry she wanted to rip out all of the girl’s stringy blond hair by
the roots. The earl, not oblivious to his daughter’s rebuke, turned to her.

“I am sure you are weary as well,”
he said. “Had I not had other pressing matters, I would escort you to your room
myself. However, I must leave that to my son. He has asked to accompany you,
with your permission.”

In a panic she thought he meant
Alexander, but she was quickly relieved to see Adam stand and smile at her.

“Of course,” she replied. “He does me
an honor, sire. And allow me to express my apologies again for my rudeness and
for my cousin’s tongue.”

He looked at her a moment and she
was not quite sure what he saw, he appeared almost distant. To her surprise, he
reached out and took her hand.

“This will take…time, my lady,” he
said softly, only to her. “I only ask that you have patience, as I must have.
Then, I think, this can be a good thing. I hope so.”

He was sincere. She could see that
he could indeed be gentle when he wished it so and she felt a little less
apprehensive about her presence.

“As do I, sire,” she replied.

Adam was there, placing her arm on
his forearm and leading her away with everyone in the room watching them.

Alexander remained seated at the
long table even after everyone else had retired and the servants were scrubbing
the stone floors of grease and bones. He was well into his wine, drunk as he
usually was this late at night. His mood was dark.

So the Scot bitch had his father and
brother captivated already. Thank God his sister saw through the facade and
hated her for what she truly was; the enemy. Aye, she was indeed the enemy as
he saw it and he thought his father an idiot to have agreed to the king’s
contract. It would serve absolutely no purpose; the Scots would continue to
kill and raid, the English would continue to fight and die. One small marriage
between minor players in a great theater would not make a difference.

Alexander was sure of that, as he
was also sure that only he was wise enough to see the situation for what it was
- a charade. The marriage between the house of de Longley and the house of
Scott was nothing more than a grand play staged by Henry himself.

Alexander took another gulp of wine,
feeling the familiar heat wash down his throat. And the worst of it was that
William seemed to be paying particular attention to the little slut. He was captivated
by her, as all the males were. Except him, of course. The only people who
entranced him were slim boys on the brink of adulthood and occasionally squires
that would take a coin in exchange for their loss of innocence.

But then there was the captain himself,
the majestic Wolf. Alexander snickered into his cup. Analiese fancied herself
in love with the man. But so did Alexander. Strange thing that he and his sister
were in love with the same man. Problem was that William paid neither one of
them the attention he should beyond polite obedience, but by damn if he wasn’t
acting like a dog in heat around the Scot bitch.

The thought of Lady Jordan Scott
brought Alexander’s blood to a slow simmer. He could see he was going to have
to do something about her. He could not have William’s attention so divided, it
was bad enough competing with his sister, but with the added intrusion of the
Scot….

He took a heavy gulp, draining the
chalice. He wondered if William had bedded her yet.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

Jordan still had no idea what had
happened to Jemma. She sat on the edge of the big bed swathed in her pale linen
robe and nothing underneath. She was accustomed to sleeping nude, ever since
she was a child. It was a habit she had never given any thought to until she
had been forced to travel with the soldiers to Northwood. But this was not her
home to parade around as she pleased; not yet, anyway. Somehow the robe provided
a false sense of protection from the hostilities of Northwood.

She was tired but could not sleep.
After brushing her hair thoroughly, she rose and went to the narrow window that
faced the inner bailey and gazed down at the activity below. It was quiet with
splashes of torchlight here and there, and she could see soldiers on both the
outer and inner walls, walking their posts. A few even had dogs with them, dogs
as big as she was. There was only a sliver moon above and the night had cooled
dramatically.

A soft rap came upon the antechamber
door. With her maids asleep in an adjoining smaller chamber, she assumed they
had not heard it and went to answer the door herself. She was flooded with
relief to see William until she remembered she was still angry with him.

“What is it ye want?” she asked
coldly.

If he thought anything of her tone
he did not let on. “I came to make sure you were well settled for the night.”

“I am,” she said curtly. “That is to
say, I am but I know not how my cousin fares. Mayhap ye should go and ask her
the same question.”

He pushed into the door and she
jumped out of the way, startled at the swiftness and force of his action. The
door slammed behind him and she heard the bolt slide through, even though he
had continued to face her the entire time.

For a moment she doubted the wisdom
of speaking rudely to him, but she would not back down. He glowered at her.

“That will be enough impertinence
from you,” he told her in a low voice. “Your cousin is settled. For what she
did tonight she is fortunate she is not on the rack.”

“She was defending me.” Jordan shot
back. “Since no one else would, she filled the void. If she is punished, then I
must be punished, too.”

He would not be pulled into her rage
“Jemma has an unmanageable tongue and she must learn what she can and cannot
say, especially if she is to be lady-in-waiting to a countess,” he said
patiently. “You, fortunately, have more sense than she does, although your
remarks tonight were highly questionable.”

“Oh.” Jordan shrieked furiously,
spinning away from him and marching aimlessly toward the far windows. “And I
suppose ye gave no thought to Alexander’s slanderous statement or Analiese’s
insult. Ye are thinking that I am the only perpetrator here.”

He was silent a moment. She heard
him sigh and heard what sounded like a blanket hit the chair when she realized
it was his cloak.

“Come here,” he said.

“No,” she crossed her arms stiffly.

“It was not a request.”

She had learned to associate that
tone with the calm before the storm. Slowly she turned, her face dark, but she
still did not go to him.

“What do ye want?”

He did not reply but continued to
look at her. Finally, with a sigh of frustration, she uncrossed her arms and
stomped over to him. He sat back on the arm of the high-back cushioned chair
and drew her between his massive legs.

“What I am thinking is that you
still have a great deal to learn,” he said mildly. His face was inches from
hers, but her head was lowered in a pout and he found himself talking to the
top of her head. “I know how hard it was for you tonight and I’d say given the
circumstances, you were remarkable. But Alexander and Analiese are two vicious
pups, spoiled and pampered, and you must be mindful of them. Additionally, they
are the earl’s children and Alexander is the heir, so if you want the rest of
your life to be relatively peaceful, I suggest you learn to patiently deal with
them.”

She was picking at her fingernails,
pouting, her hands touching his chest. “Why dinna ye tell me he had children?”