The Wolfe (84 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

BOOK: The Wolfe
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“How long have you known this?” Analiese
asked, shocked.

“Not long,” Jordan whispered, again
gripped by the torrential forces of childbirth.

Her second son was born exactly ten
minutes after the first, a little smaller, but quite lusty and pink.

While Analiese and the two other
women cleaned and cooed to the screaming infants, Byron finished cleaning
Jordan and gave her a few stitches where she tore. She was so exhausted that
she could do nothing more than lie in her damp clothes and doze, but she could
hear her sons crying and it was the sweetest music she had ever heard.

When Byron was sure Jordan was taken
well care of, he moved to the door to give the news to the father. He could not
keep the smile off his face. Lord only knew, he hadn’t smiled in years.

When he opened the door, William was
standing in the doorjamb, arms braced on either side of the arch. He was
leaning into his arms as if imagining them to be the door, pushing so hard to
get in to see his wife that his hands were white.

His head came up from where he had
been staring at the floor, the hazel-gold orb fixing on the tiny bald man. His
face was emotionless but Byron knew he was wild with worry.

“Relax, Baron,” Byron said quietly. “Your
wife is fine. As are your sons.”

William blinked. Then an expression
of utter amazement crossed his face. “
Sons
?”

The old man nodded. “Two of the
healthiest boys I have ever seen fit to deliver. Congratulations, my lord.”

Kieran and Deinwald, directly behind
him, began to guffaw with laughter, picked up by the other men. William heard
them but was unable to join in; he was dazed to the core.

“Twins?” he repeated in awe.

Byron stepped back. “Go in and see
them.”

William woodenly stepped into the
room as Byron slammed the door in the faces of the eager knights. With a push
from the little physician, he entered the bedchamber and stepped to the edge of
the bed, his attention divided between the two babes being bathed over on the
table and his wife’s sleeping form.

He could hear the babes, yelling
their little lungs out, and knew they were fine. Jordan, however, scared the
hell out of him; she was as pale as a ghost.

“Are you sure she is well?” he whispered
to Byron.

“Aye, she is,” he replied. “She is
merely exhausted. Your sons were quite large.”

He let out a ragged sigh, moving to
sit on the bed but not wanting to wake her, so he moved into the nearest chair.
He had to sit down or he would fall down, so great his surprise and relief.

His gaze never left his wife.

“Here, William,” Analiese said
softly. “Would you like to hold your son?”

He tore his gaze away from Jordan’s
face to look at the woman standing next to him with the bundle in her arms. Analiese
smiled, coaching him as one does a new father as he reached up and took the
baby into his arms. His touch was sure yet gentle, not at all timid, as if he
had done it a hundred times before.

“This is your firstborn,” she said,
stepping away.

He gazed down into the tiny red
face, marveling at the perfection he saw. Tiny tuffs of blond hair peaked out
from beneath the swaddling blanket and tiny, angry fists waved at him. With all
of the swirling emotions he was feeling at that very moment, his first reaction
was to laugh.

“Why are you so angry?” he whispered
to his son. “You are shaking your fists at me already.”

He continued to chuckle at the
infant, examining the fingers and toes that escaped from the swaddling. The
babe was quieting somewhat when Analiese brought over the other boy.

“Here,” she said. “Hold your second
born so that he will feel no favoritism.”

William took the other babe eagerly,
both children nestled quite comfortably in his arms. He looked at his second
son, noticing the much darker hair and skin tone. This child would look like
him.

“Well, little pup,” he said to him. “You
do not look much like your brother, do you?”

The babe’s response was to wail
loudly. Hearing his brother scream, the other child resumed his yelling as if
to out-do him. It was so comical that William laughed until tears rolled down
his cheeks. Unnoticed to him, Byron and the ladies had slipped from the room to
allow him privacy with his family.

The babies screaming, he stood from
the chair and began to pace, speaking softly to them of the history of their
parent’s relationship. His tone was so soothing and honeyed that it was no time
before the infants quieted and went to sleep. But he continued to walk with
them, staring at them as if he were afraid they were going to disappear.

He was amazed and elated and could
imagine no greater joy than this. Silently, he thanked God for the blessings he
had seen fit to bestow upon him. How could one man be so very fortunate, he
wondered dreamily.

Jordan was still asleep when Analiese
came in to take the babies and put them to bed in the adjoining room. She had a
wet nurse ready to feed them when they woke, allowing Jordan time to recover. William
was grateful for her foresight.

It was nearly the noon hour but William
felt as if he had been up for days. He went back over to the bed where his wife
lay, watching her as she slept. He noticed there was a bit of color back in her
cheeks and reached out to touch her face ever so gently. God, how he loved her.

He slumped against the wall on her
side of the bed, sliding down until his bottom hit the floor. He sat there, one
knee raised and elbow resting on it, watching his wife’s sleeping face, never more
content in his entire life.

She awoke, once, later on that
afternoon to find him gazing at her. With a faint smile, she closed her eyes
again and drifted off for the rest of the night.

 

***

 

The next morning, Jordan awoke
absolutely ravenous. Cradling one son while William held the other, she wolfed
down a huge portion of gruel as well as a large chunk of bread, talking the
whole time with her mouth full. He watched her with a great deal of amusement,
listening to her prattle on about the babies and Northwood and Questing. She
insisted on seeing Kieran before he left so that he could pass a message on to Jemma
for her.

He found it hard to believe she had
just birthed two children the day before with the boundless energy she was
exhibiting. He knew he was going to have trouble when she demanded to be
released from bed.

Kieran entered the room, dressed in
his armor, ready for travel. He spoke to both babies as if they would
understand exactly what he was telling them, informing them that by one year of
age he expected them to be in the saddle, swinging a broadsword.

Jordan argued vigorously with him,
advising him that her sons would be scholars and not warriors, a statement
William raised an eyebrow to. She merely smiled sweetly in return.

They spoke between them pleasantly
for several minutes. Jordan reminded Kieran exactly what he should say to Jemma
and extracting a promise that he would send them a missive regarding the child
when it was born. William could see Kieran was eager to get on his way and told
Jordan to be quiet and let the man leave.

Kieran was heading for the door when
Deinwald burst in, his eyes wide.

“William, we’ve just received word
from Northwo….” He stopped when he saw Kieran standing there.

William saw Deinwald’s hesitation
and was immediately alerted to the fact that something must be terribly wrong.
The way the man was looking at Kieran also told him that it must have something
to do with Jemma.

He could not simply kick Kieran out
of the room. The man was going to Northwood this minute and would need to know
anything of importance. Mentally bracing himself, William nodded at his knight.

“Continue, Deinwald,” he said
evenly. “What did the message say?”

Deinwald looked helplessly at
William. He didn’t want to tell him, not in front of Kieran, and certainly not
in front of Jordan, but in his haste he had created the situation. He took a
deep breath, his eyes going between William and Kieran. He could not even look
at Jordan.

“A messenger arrived a half hour
ago,” he said quietly. “The Scots attacked Langton, forming a line to prevent
any assistance from England. Alexander forbade Northwood troops to fight, as
you knew he would, so Paris called upon Beverley, Hawkgrove, and Deauxville
Mount. It took them over a week, but they broke the lines and separated the
Scot forces. Only Langton was long gone.”

He glanced over at Jordan; they all
did. She was sitting with her son clutched to her chest, her eyes spilling
over, but didn’t utter a sound. Deinwald, visibly upset at her reaction,
continued nonetheless.

“By this time, the English troops
had suffered quite heavily and were discouraged to see that their fighting had
been in vain,” he went on. “As they fell back, newly reinforced Scot armies
chased them back into England. They got as far as Northwood. She is under siege
as of three days ago.”

William was rigid. He was acutely
aware of the small baby he held, careful not to allow his reaction to reflect
on the child. Moving to the adjoining door, he calmly called to the wet nurse
to come and retrieve both children. The fat woman silently and swiftly complied.

“Go on,” he told his knight after
the woman left.

“Henry is so mad he could spit
nails,” Deinwald said. “He’s mad as hell at Alexander for dishonoring the
treaty his father agreed to. He’s already ordered 1200 troops readied for you
to lead back to Northwood. Additionally, he wants Alexander brought back to
London.”

“What in the hell for?” Kieran
demanded.

Deinwald shrugged. “I do not know.
Mayhap to stand trial; he didn’t say. At any rate, he wants you ready to ride
by this eve. He is in his private audience chambers now and asked that you come
to him after I delivered the message.”

William nodded faintly, his mind
already working. He was thinking ahead to the ride, to the battle. “Did the
messenger say what kind of shape Northwood is in? Has she been breached?”

“Nay, my lord, the man didn’t say,”
Deinwald replied. “He was fairly spent by the time he got here. He has been
riding three full days and nights to reach us.”

“Where is he?” William asked.

“Resting in a room near the
kitchens,” Deinwald said. “I thought you might want to interrogate him further.”

William didn’t say anything; his
face was grim.  Deinwald took deep breath. “There is one more thing,” he looked
at Kieran. Raising his hand, they saw that he clutched a small scroll and
offered it timidly to Kieran.

Kieran eyed Deinwald and took the
missive from him. “What is this? It has been opened.”

Deinwald cleared his throat
uncomfortably. “I know. The messenger from Northwood carried it and Henry took
it from him and read it, even though it was addressed to William.”

Kieran frowned. “Then why are you
giving it to me?”

Deinwald looked as if he wished he
were anywhere but in that room. “Because it is for you.”

Kieran ignored Deinwald’s pale face
and read the missive. He only read it once. Then it clattered to the floor.

William was gravely concerned.
Something terrible must have happened to Jemma and he was deeply troubled as to
what his wife’s reaction would be, as well as Kieran’s. Morbid curiosity and
necessity forced him to pick up the missive and read it.

Jordan was wiping at her eyes,
watching Kieran’s stiff back and her husband’s face as he read the message. She
knew deep in her heart that it was something awful about Jemma. After the news
of Langton, she wasn’t sure she could take any more bad news. But she had to
know.

“What does it say?” she asked
softly.

William looked up at her. He glanced
at the vellum again, then at Kieran, before answering.

“Jemma delivered a daughter two
weeks ago,” his voice was faint with dread. “Your cousin is fine, but the child
was stillborn.”

Jordan’s hands flew to her mouth as
if to block out the scream that was threatening to burst forth. Her wide eyes were
wider, filling with fresh tears that gushed over her cheeks like a waterfall
after a rain. She began to shake her head, back and forth, hauntingly chanting
over and over,

“No, no,
no
!”

William dropped the parchment and
went to her, cradling her in his arms and feeling the wracking sobs that shook
her. He could only imagine her pain, Kieran’s pain, knowing that it could have
so easily been tragic for their sons, as well. Only by the grace of God did
they have two healthy children.

As Jordan expended her grief,
another sound filled the room, deep and mournful. It took William a moment to
realize that Kieran was weeping.

Jordan heard him and she immediately
ceased her own sobs, pulling away from William to gaze at Kieran’s heaving
shoulders. He stood facing the wall, but his hand was over his face. Jordan instantly
forgot her own pain, tears anew for Kieran’s grief.

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