The Wolfe (95 page)

“You serve the man, Steven, you do
not control him,” William said. “Whatever he has done does not affect my
friendship with you.”

Relieved, Steven simply nodded
silently as the three men continued out into the bailey.

CHAPTER FORTY SIX

By the end of April, the weather was
showing a remarkable inclination toward spring and Jordan awoke to a vibrant,
sunny day and knew she had to become a part of it. No matter that she had been
up half the night with the twins; they were sleeping now and she would take a
leisurely bath and then, finally, a walk in the sunshine. The thought of such a
simple pleasure after months and months of freezing, dreary weather was enough
to send her catapulting from the bed and loudly ordering her bath.

She took time to soak in the tub,
washing her hair with lavender soap and rinsing it with flat ale for body and
shine. Properly cleaned, she proceeded to don a dress she had made before she
became pregnant but had never worn. It was a lovely pale green color with
accents of silver, slightly off her shoulders with long slim sleeves.

Analiese helped her dress and Jordan
was amazed that the dress actually fit her. After all, just six scant weeks ago
she had been as big as a house. But the more she gazed back at herself, the
more pleased she was with the changes in her body since the birth of the twins.
Her breasts had always been nicely rounded, but now that she was lactating they
were wonderfully large and ripe. She wondered if the largeness of her breasts
made her waist look slimmer, for in faith she could not ever remember her waist
being that small. She smoothed at the skirt, feeling the slight roundness of
her tummy under the folds of the surcoat.

She smiled to herself ironically.
She had never given her figure much thought before, but facing her in the
mirror was the figure of a woman reeking with pure sexuality, pure femininity.
And the cut of the dress emphasized that fact. She was forced to admit she
liked the change but wondered how temporary it was.

Analiese helped her dry her hair and
she pulled the front of it back, away from her face. Soft tendrils escaped,
framing her sweet oval face as she secured it was a silver clip. She slipped on
matching hose and garters, noticing that even her legs had filled out a bit.
She had always thought that they were rather skinny, hence her childhood
nickname, but she could see that they were no more. They were shapely and soft.
With pale green slippers on her small feet, she was ready for her outing.

Her escort was old Byron. He had
spent his time at Windsor holed up in a cluster of seldom used rooms,
dispensing advice and learning of the latest techniques from the continent. Although
he shunned human contact for the most part, even he had benefitted from his
stay in Windsor. Jordan was pleasantly surprised when he showed up at her
apartments to accompany her on her walk.

Analiese went on her way to be with
her friends and Jordan bid her good-bye with a kiss on the cheek. The young
woman was definitely in her element these days and had bloomed. Jordan knew
that most likely Analiese would never see the walls of Northwood again, and
further hoped she would find a husband among the wealthy young nobles at court.

With the twins sleeping soundly and
the wet nurse standing vigilant watch, Jordan took Byron’s twig-like arm and
exited her rooms.

But they were not alone; three of
the knights William had assigned to watch her lagged not far behind as well as
five or six soldiers. Jordan began to feel guilty for ignoring the men sworn to
protect her. It was difficult to explain why she had rebuffed them; mayhap
because she was in the seat of the English nation and still, deep down, English
soldiers frightened her. She didn’t even think of Northwood’s knights as
English - they were simply her family.
Her
knights.

It was nearing the nooning meal when
she and Byron exited the castle into the blinding white sunshine. In spite of
the great glare the day was cool, but the light still felt wonderful to her.
Grasping Byron’s arm, they crossed the small courtyard on their way to the
larger bailey at the very front of the castle.

She was surprised that Byron had
much to say; he was usually silent. How he knew she was going for a walk, she
didn’t ask. Her husband had said once that Byron was an extremely intuitive and
wise man and for all she knew, he could read minds. But she was enjoying the
conversation very much, even if she did not understand much, listening to Bryon
talk about the latest developments in the ancient science of alchemy.

The small group passed into the main
portion of the palace and Jordan watched the people with great interest. Almost
all of her socializing had been done in her own apartments and to actually land
in hive’s center was exciting for her. The last time she had passed through
here she had been very pregnant and very upset and did not take the time to
look about her. She admired the women and their dresses and almost laughed at
some of the men she saw, wearing breeches so tight that she swore they stuffed
their crotches to emphasize their manhood. Jewels and ribbons and strange
perfumes assaulted her senses, but she was fascinated with it all.

The party rounded a corner and ran
head long into none other than Daniel de Troiu. His face lit up when he saw
Jordan, a bright, sexy smile creasing his lips.

“Lady de Wolfe,” he exclaimed happily.
“What a pleasant surprise. I had no idea you were allowed out of your prison.”

Jordan was still mightily angry at him.
She gazed at him coolly as he took her hand and kissed it.

“Baron,” she bobbed a small curtsy.

His gaze licked over her. “If I may
be so bold, my lady, you do look delicious this day,” he said seductively. “You
did not respond to my message the other day and I was concerned for you. Where
are you going this bright morn?”

She stiffened at his disgusting
compliment. Why hadn’t she seen him for what he truly was before all of these
horrible rumors got started? The man was nothing but a lascivious swine.
Looking at him now, the way he was staring at her, told her everything she had
been too blind to see before.

“My companion and I are going for a
walk,” she replied evenly. “If ye will excuse us, Baron.”

He stepped aside only to join her
little group as they walked past. “I believe I could use a dose of sunshine
myself, my lady, if you do not mind,” he said. “It has been a long time since
our last chat. I have missed talking to you.”

Jordan took a deep breath to fight
off the insult that popped to mind. She had no desire to talk, walk or
certainly to be seen with the man. Analiese had said the rumors were just
recently dying down. Abruptly, she came to a halt and faced him.

“In fact, my lord, I
do
mind,”
she said frankly. “I mind a great deal. I am not wanting yer company at the
moment.”

He looked shocked. “But…I do not
understand, Lady Jordan,” he said gravely. “Have I done something to offend
you? If so, then I will apologize a thousand times and beg for your
forgiveness.”

She could feel her cheeks flushing
angrily. “Leave me be, if you please,” she repeated as steadily as she could
muster. “I would be alone with my companions.”

He put his hand on her arm and it
was a grievous mistake. Instantly, the three knights behind Jordan were
thrusting him away from her roughly, placing themselves protectively in between
their mistress and the earl.

“She asked you to leave, my lord,”
said one knight, the leader. His voice was deep and controlled. “You will
comply with her wishes, if you please.”

De Troiu was angry and perplexed. “Nay,
I do
not
please. This conversation is between the lady and myself and I
do not recall asking for or referring to your assistance. Step away if you
value your position, knight.”

“My orders come from higher up than
you, my lord,” the knight said, his tone still entirely respectful. “You will
leave Lady de Wolfe alone, as you have been previously informed.”

Jordan listened, curious as to what
the knight mean by ‘previously.’ But in faith, she was glad for their
intervention and she intended to thank them when the time was right.

De Troiu was furious. “Baron de
Wolfe does not outrank me.”

The knight looked impassively at
him. “As the king’s champion, he does,” he turned back around to his men. “Escort
Lady de Wolfe to the bailey.”

Without a hind glance at de Troiu,
Jordan and Byron went on their way. When they were several feet away, Jordan
glanced over her shoulder and saw that the knight was still detaining de Troiu,
making sure the man did not follow her.

She wondered what on earth had
provoked such protective behavior from a man she had ignored since her arrival,
and what’s more, she intended to find out. Listening to the conversation, she
had deduced that William had been in contact with the knight recently and it
angered her; why had he not seen fit to contact her, then?

They left through the huge main
doors of Windsor, entering into the massive courtyard. Jordan had no true
destination in mind, simply to walk, so they began to skim the well-manicured
drive.

There were carriages and soldiers
and people everywhere and the entire area was alive with activity. Byron had
begun talking again but she stopped him every so often to ask him from what
house a particular banner was from, or to point out a bloom or a colorful bird.
Her encounter with de Troiu was quickly forgotten.

The other knight had finally joined
them again and she passed him a couple of curious glances before stopping to
face him.

“What is yer name, sir knight?” she
asked.

He was a big, big man. She had never
really noticed before. His head and most of his face was obscured by the helmet
as he spoke.

“Sir Roan d’Vant, my lady,” he
replied.

She nodded, studying him. “Take off
yer helmet.” She hated helmets; they were too impersonal.

He obeyed and she was surprised to
see that he was young and very handsome. His black hair was shorn very close to
his scalp, but a bit longer on the crown, and he had a well-formed face and
intense blue eyes. In fact, his gaze was quite piercing.

“So my husband asked ye to be my
protector, did he?” she said after a moment.

“Aye, my lady, he did,” he replied. “Your
husband and I served in Wales together.”

“Were ye with him when he was
wounded?” she asked.

“Aye,” he answered. “’Twas I who
carried the earl back to London. Sir Kieran and Sir Deinwald were busy with the
Welsh, covering our retreat.”

She hadn’t known that. This man had
probably saved William’s life and she had been unkind to him. Her guilt was
magnified for her attitude toward her guards.

“Then I must thank ye,” she said
quietly. “I dinna know. And I must furthermore apologize for my manners these
past weeks. I have been less than gracious to ye and yer men.”

He cracked a smile and she was
delighted to see that it was a wide, beautiful smile displaying straight, white
teeth. He was magnificently handsome when he smiled, but not nearly as handsome
as her husband.

“My lady, you have been busy with
two new babes,” he said. “You are not expected to be the consummate hostess.”

She grinned back. “Ye are too kind,
sir knight. Tell me, are ye married?”

He was caught off guard by the rapid
change of subject. “Nay, my lady, I have no wife.”

Jordan frowned slightly. “Pity, Sir Roan.
I should like to have another friend while I am in London,” she turned slightly
away from him. “Come and walk with me and tell me of yerself.”

Honored, he resumed walking by her
side. Jordan learned little of him because she did most of the talking, telling
him about Northwood and Langton and about her adventures since leaving her
home. She found Sir Roan to be a wonderful listener and good conversationalist.
She was deeply sorry she had not made an earlier attempt to get to know him.

Before she realized it they had made
the round of the courtyard and were nearly back where they had started. She
paused a moment, still enjoying all of the activities and continuing her
conversation with Roan. Ignorant as she was of the English, he began to point
out various nobles and people of importance to her and she was fascinated.

As they stood and chatted, the
courtyard appeared to be in great turmoil. She glanced up at Roan and was
troubled to see his attractive face creased with concern. It appeared that
people were beginning to clear the drive in a great hurry and the shouting and
noise from harried horses was uproarious.

“Mayhap we had better go inside, my
lady,” he said calmly, but she could detect urgency in his tone.

She nodded, picking up her skirts to
comply when a huge thundering caught her attention. It sounded like distant
thunder, yet far more powerful. The earth beneath her shook with the force.

Instinctively, she stopped to see
from whence the sound came when she was confronted by a large company of
soldiers barreling into the bailey from the King’s Gate. The men were dressed
for battle. She could see some of the riders with slung cross bows, and all of
them were dressed in armor and mail; especially the knights, who rode at the
head of the column.