The Wolfe (69 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

BOOK: The Wolfe
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“Jesus, William, wipe the blood from
your sword,” Paris hissed.

William glanced at his sword and
then examined his hands; there was blood all over them, too. He heard Kieran
mutter a curse.

“It’s my own blood. I guess I nicked
myself,” he said calmly.

His men looked a horrified. “My God,
what did you do? Chop her to death?” Kieran demanded softly.

“She’s not dead,” William replied
softly. God, he was feeling defeated and miserable. “She’s very much alive.”

Paris and Kieran glanced at each
other. “Why? William, she knows. You cannot allow her to live.” Paris insisted.

“Yet she lives just the same,” William
looked at his men for the first time. “She convinced me that she is no spy and
for that I will spare her life for the moment, but you are correct when you say
she ‘knows’. But I believe I must speak with de Longley before I take her life
for her unfortunate mistake.”

The three of them went to seek out
the earl. He was not a difficult man to find, sitting in his solar in his
favorite chair, contemplating the world outside his window. He did that often
and William always wondered what could keep the man’s mind so busy that he
could sit for hours, staring into nothingness.

De Longley heard the knock at his
door, turning as his three knights entered the room. He could see at once that
something was wrong.

“What is it, lads?” he stood up.

He saw the blood on William’s hands
and sword and was instantly very concerned, but William waved him off.

“‘Tis of no consequence, my lord,”
he assured him. “An accident. But we do have a problem.”

“What sort of problem?”

Paris and Kieran stood like huge
silent sentinels behind William as he spoke.

“The queen’s lady, Aloria, has
discovered our secret,” he said quietly. “I accused her of spying and took her
down to the cellar where I was planning on disposing of her, yet she managed to
convince me that she was not spying and for the moment, she is spared. The fact
remains, however, that she holds a catastrophic bit of information and I must
seek your wisdom in this matter, my lord.”

De Longley looked at his captain a
moment in shock before turning away, wandering listlessly toward his desk. “Great
Gods, William. How on earth did she find out?”

William shook his head. “I was in
Jordan’s chambers and she came upon us and heard a bit of our conversation. Not
much, but enough.”

The earl let out a sort of strangled
grunt, scratching his thinning hair. “And you are sure she is not a spy from
Henry?”

“She swears on the Holy Bible that
she is not, and I am forced to agree with her,” William replied. “In hindsight,
I do not believe her to be the spying sort. I may be wrong, but I do not think
so. And neither does my wife.”

De Longley’s eyes snapped up to him.
“And how does your wife fare through this?”

William’s face took on a completely
miserable expression that caught the earl off guard. “Not well, my lord. Not
well at all.”

De Longley waited for him to elaborate
but when he didn’t, he continued on. “And what does this woman say about our
‘secret’?”

“She says she cares not, that she
only wishes to serve my wife. She is most insistent about it,” his captain
replied.

The earl sat heavily behind his
desk, folding his hands thoughtfully. He was silent for several long minutes,
in which time William had poured himself two large cups of wine and drank them
both. Paris had settled himself on the window seat while Kieran leaned against
the wall by the door. All of them waiting for the earl to make a decision, and
William was greatly relieved that it was no longer his to make.

“I am not an advocate of murder,
William,” De Longley finally said. “If this were a clear case of malicious
spying, then there would be no question of execution. However, the girl’s
denials cast a doubt on the charges. If you say she is not a spy, and if you
believe she will not divulge the information she has acquired, then I am in
favor of allowing her to live.”

William nodded silently, watching De
Longley’s tired, old face. “As you wish, My lord.”

“And I furthermore believe she should
be allowed to continue to serve your wife,” the earl looked at him. “For various
reasons, the first being that you will better be able to keep a watchful eye on
the woman. And secondly, because Lady de Wolfe wishes it. This situation may
not be as devastating as we believe, at least I hope not. But I will leave the
final decision up to you.”

William held his gaze a moment. “If
you believe it wise, then I will agree.”

De Longley nodded, rubbing his chin
thoughtfully. “Where is the woman?”

“Still in the cellar,” William
answered.

“Release her then, but warn her,”
the earl instructed. “And not a word of this to anyone else. This predicament
goes no further than these walls.”

“Aye, my lord,” William replied
formally. Paris and Kieran stood tall from their slouches, knowing the
conversation was concluding and the decision had been made. The earl was
starting to speak again when there was a soft rap at the closed door, and
Kieran opened it.

Michael stood in the doorway, his
gaze seeking out William. “M-my lord, your wife has just ridden from Northwood
with Father Sutton.”

“She
what?
” William boomed.

The earl was on his feet. “I sent
Father Sutton up to your wife’s chambers, William, so she could help him with
the mass. They were to work on it in the privacy of her bower.”

“She was locked in her bedchamber,”
William suddenly letting out a hissing sigh. “Damn, he must have let her out.”

“Was Jemma with them?” Kieran asked
Michael.

The big man nodded. “Aye, she was.”

William clapped a hand to his head
in unbelievable frustration. “Is it possible she is seeking sanctuary?”

“Sanctuary? For what?” the earl
demanded.

William’s hand fell back to his
side. He was having difficulty grasping events as they unfolded. “She was
hysterical about Aloria,” he said, distressed. “She knew my intentions and she
fought fiercely to defend the woman. I can only assume that she is angry enough
to try and escape me.”

The earl shook his head Great Gods,
life had been so simple before the addition of beautiful Lady Jordan. Now he
could barely keep track of current events as they happened.

“Go and get her, lad; waste no time.”
He waved his knights on. “And not a word to anyone. Great Gods, I can only pray
Henry does not catch wind of the goings on around here. And bring her back
before the feast tonight.”

The knights were gone, jogging out
of the castle and to the knights’ quarters, donning the rest of their battle
armor and ordering horses saddled and brought around. William, Paris, Kieran
and Michael were joined by Ranulf and Deinwald as they mounted up.

“Who in the hell was in charge of
the gate and let her through?” William demanded angrily to everyone, anyone.

“Jason had the wall, my lord,”
Ranulf replied. “But the gates were open and she was gone before he could stop
her.”

Lewis approached his captain from
his position on the inner wall, wondering what was going on. William slapped
his helmet on and stabbed a finger at the young knight.

“Lewis, tell Marc that he is in
charge until I return,” he commanded. “Round up Corin and Adam and tell them I
want security tightened and the gates closed immediately. We’ve the bloody king
to protect.” Hell, if his wife was able to slip out, then who would be able to
slip in? He was angry at the lack of security; angry at everything.

The six knights barreled out of
Northwood, racing down the road that skirted the small village and heading
toward Father Sutton’s church.

He was damn well furious, but he was
also scared. He was always scared when he was unable to protect Jordan. Yet he
was also fearful that she would be unable to forgive him, even though he had
not carried out his threat. She was so bloody sensitive and caring that he was
afraid his actions had somehow scarred their relationship.

With renewed determination, he spurred
his destrier faster.

Father Sutton’s church was rather
well-appointed for a religious order that swore a vow to poverty. And with the
generous contribution the earl had made on William and Jordan’s behalf, it
promised to become even more lavish. The knights reined their steeds to a halt
in front of the church and dismounted in a racket of noisy armor, moving toward
the entry of the holy structure.

“William, if she had indeed sought
sanctuary, then you cannot violate the church,” Paris said quietly as they
approached.

“I can at least speak to her,”
William said firmly.

“Not if she doesn’t want to speak to
you, and you know that,” Paris reminded him. “The priests won’t let you in.”

“She will speak to me,” William said
in a low, threatening voice. “Or I shall tear the bloody building down brick by
brick.”

Paris muttered a curse. “You
cannot,” he hissed. “Let me do the talking, would you? You are likely to go off
at the slightest provocation and the monks will slam the door in your face.”

“Nay, Paris, I will do the talking,”
William said as they reached the huge front door. “I am quite calm.”

Paris snorted his refusal as William
rang the bell.

A small monk with shorn hair and dirty
robes answered the door. William and the other knights removed their helmets respectfully.

“Father, we are seeking Lady Jordan
Scott,” he said.

He priest nodded eagerly. “From
Northwood? She is here. She is with Father Sutton,” he stood back to allow the
men entrance. “Come in, good knights, but leave your weapons at the door.”

William’s sword, in its scabbard,
and five others landed in a pile next to the door. So did the helmets.

The interior was dark and smelled
strongly of incense as the knights followed the monk into the chapel. Huge
banks of expensive tallow candles burned brightly from all corners and
furnishings were abundant. But the chapel was void of any living person, and
William looked questioningly at the monk.

“She is upstairs,” he explained. “Wait
here and I will tell her you are here.”

William put out a hand to stop him. “Would
it be possible for me to announce myself?”

He didn’t want to give her the
chance to refuse to see him. Fortunately, the monk agreed and beckoned him to
follow. William was given a bit of hope in this action, for if Jordan truly
didn’t wish to see him then she would have left word. Yet he motioned for the
rest of the knights to follow. If his wife and her cousin were going to act up,
then he wanted reinforcements.

The small brother led the men up a
narrow spiral staircase that proved difficult for William and Michael to
maneuver because of their height. Kieran, too, had difficulty simply because of
his sheer mass. It widened at the top and opened into a narrow corridor.

“Down here,” the monk motioned,
moving quickly to the very end of the hall.

“Hell of a staircase,” Kieran
muttered behind Paris, who shushed him.

The little priest reached a rather
well made oak door and rapped softly. Father Sutton opened the door, his eyes
widening at the sight of the knights. He pushed himself through the door
quickly and out into the hall, closing the panel behind him softly.

“Captain.” he exclaimed softly.

William forgot about his pledge to
remain calm. “Why did you bring my wife here?” he demanded. “It was foolish.”

The fastest way to go to hell was to
be harsh with a priest, Paris thought dryly. But Father Sutton held his ground,
unruffled.

“A moment, sire, please,” the priest
begged. “Let me speak with you for one moment before you take her back to
Northwood.”

“No,” William said coldly, moving
past the priest.

Father Sutton grabbed his arm. “Captain,
I implore you. I only ask a moment of your time on your wife’s behalf.”

Paris had hold of William’s other
arm, silently pleading with him to grant the priest’s request. William caught
the look in his friend’s eye and, reluctantly, removed his hand from the door latch.

“Very well,” he said shortly. “What
is it?”

Father Sutton took a relieved
breath. “Your wife is extremely upset, my lord. She told me what transpired
this day and begged me to escort her here.”

“Did she request sanctuary?” William
asked suspiciously.

“Nay, she did not,” the priest
answered. “Sire, she brought with her all of her jewels, everything of value
she has. She has given them to me for penance for your action. She wants me to
pray for your soul.”

William looked at him, stunned.
Then, slowly, the selflessness of her action dawned on him and he slumped,
putting a weary hand on his face. He had been so damn sure she had come here to
flee him, when in fact, she had only been thinking
of
him.

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