The Wolfe (104 page)

Mary Alys, good little helper that
she was, spent her time wiping porridge from the floor, the women, and the
chairs. Jordan and Jemma would squeal with disgusted laughter every time they
got sprayed with the stuff, which was nearly every bite, but they persisted on
until every bit was gone from the bowls.

“Good God, is it always like this?” Jemma
demanded, wiping gruel from her forehead with the back of her hand.

“I hope not,” Jordan replied, wiping
her hands with a rag. “For I shall be breast-feeding them until they are five
years old if that is the case.”

Jemma sent Mary Alys scurrying for a
pitcher of water. As soon as the little girl had vacated the room, she turned
to her cousin.

“We leave tonight,” she whispered in
a low voice.

Jordan’s eyes widened. “Tonight?”
she repeated, suddenly afraid and uncertain, but at the same time excited. “Why
tonight?”

“Because the moon will be full and
we will be able to see our way better,” Jemma replied confidently. “If we ride
hard, we should reach Langton by tomorrow.”

Langton.
Home.
Jordan’s
emotions began to swirl, but she nodded firmly. “Very well, then. We’ll leave
tonight.”

The plan was to pretend they were
going for a short ride before supper, sans husbands. The gates closed at
sundown and William and Kieran would await them at supper, not knowing that
their wives had not returned from their outing before the gates were closed. Jemma
estimated that she and Jordan would get a good three to four hour lead on them,
which is all they needed. Once they were to Langton, even if the men demanded
they turn immediately for home as soon as they caught up, they would have still
seen Thomas.

Jordan was as nervous as a fox the
rest of the day, dropping things and chattering on and on. Fortunately, William
had not been around for most of the day and did not pick up on his wife’s
jitters. He was busy with Adam directing the placement of some outbuildings in
the outer bailey.

When the time drew close, Jordan
went into her bedchamber and donned the clothes she and Jemma had horded for
this occasion: pale woolen hose, a pale linen sheath, a heavier black overtunic,
and her leather boots. Over that she wore a high-neck riding dress that covered
everything underneath. The purpose of the peasant garments was so that they
would appear as youths traveling, not young ladies unescorted. Jemma insisted
they should look as much like boys as possible.

Jordan pulled her magnificent hair
back into a single braid so that it fell softly over one shoulder. The braid
was not only necessary for riding, but for ease when tucking it beneath the black
caps Jemma had managed to confiscate. In her hand she clutched a small bag
filled with apples and bread for their trip.

It was nearing the time. Biting back
tears, she went into the nursery to kiss the twins one last time, trying to
appear as casual as she could to Sylvie and to the wet-nurse. She told them she
was going for a short ride and would return before supper. Then Scott grinned
up at her and Troy blew a bubble and her heart nearly broke. In a flurry of
emotion, she asked the women to take good care of her bairns and fled the room.

Jemma was waiting for her in the
stables. “What took ye so long?” she hissed, then shut up as the stable master
brought out the two long-legged thoroughbreds the ladles were fond of riding.

Jordan’s horse was a magnificent
rich brown animal that she had ridden on several occasions, belonging to the
dead earl. She mounted up, securing the bag to the saddle and covered it inconspicuously
with her skirt. Jemma mounted a smaller, faster chestnut horse.

“Are you sure you ladies do not wish
an escort?” the stable master asked urgently. “‘Twill be no trouble at all to…”

Jemma cut him off. “Nay, good sir.
We wish to ride alone, although we willna stray far. We will keep the castle in
view at all times.”

The old man looked at her
doubtfully. He didn’t think it was a good idea for the two women to ride alone,
but he did not argue.

“As you please, ladies,” he said
politely. “Have a good ride.”

They trotted from the stables and
through the outer bailey, running headlong into William, Adam and Deinwald.
Jordan’s heart sank, for she knew her husband would not approve of riding
without an escort. She was hoping to avoid running into him, although she had
not seen him all day. She was positive he would be able to read her mind.

“Where are you going?” he asked with
a smile, going to stand alongside her.

She swallowed. “Out for a ride with
my cousin,” she replied, hoping her voice wasn’t quaky.

“Alone? I think not,” he said with a
cock of the brow.

Jordan exploded. “
Sweet Jesu
,
English, we’re not riding out into the waiting arms of the enemy. Jemma and I
have not ridden alone for ages and we simply want to spend time to ourselves.
With everything that has happened, is that too much to ask?”

He did not appreciate the tone but
he let it slide. After all, she was expecting and he knew women in her
condition were prone to emotional outbursts. And according to Paris, Jordan was
prone with the best of them.

“Would you allow one of my knights
to go with you if he promises to stay silent and out of the way?” he asked
nicely, not waiting for her to fall into fits of anger.

“Nay,” she insisted hotly. “I dunna
want anyone along but Jemma.”

“Not even me?” he asked quietly.

That tone always soothed her, melted
her. She gazed down into his loving face and felt her anger fade.

“Usually, aye,” she replied more
calmly. “But just Jemma and I, please? We have a lot to talk about; silly,
feminine, maternal things. Please, English? We willna go too far.”

He didn’t want to let her; damn, he
didn’t want to. But she was pleading with him and he was weak.
Oh, what harm
could come to them,
he thought with exasperation. He would have his
sentries keep their eyes alert.

“Very well, love,” he said after a
moment. “But keep the fortress in your sight at all times.”

“We will,” she lied.

“Good girl,” he reached up to her. “Give
me a kiss.”

She bent down and gave him the
sweetest, softest kiss she could ever remember giving him. Even he looked
pleasantly surprised when he pulled back.

“Not too long,” he warned.

“I wunna,” she avoided his gaze,
kicking the thoroughbred.

She felt so damn guilty that tears
stung her eyes. He would never again trust her after this, but it was something
she felt in her heart she had to do. Mayhap someday he would forgive her,
knowing how much he loved her.

Soon they were pounding from the
gates. Jemma took the lead, taking them down the road a way before darting off
the path and into a clump of brown foliage. For the next half hour they
scampered about, jumping small logs, making sure that the soldiers up on the
wall could see them every so often as they dodged in and out of the dead trees.

Jemma knew that when they finally
disappeared from view completely, the soldiers would not sound the alarm as
they waited for them to reappear. Then, it was too late. By then, they would be
on their way to Scotland.

Sticking to the trees, they ripped
off their riding dresses, revealing the clothing they had stolen. With the
dresses hastily buried under rotting leaves, they rode from the sight of
Northwood. The thoroughbreds were bred for speed and raced like the wind
through the cover of the trees until Jemma guided her mount to the road again
several miles north and Jordan followed Jordan felt as if she were running from
the devil, which is exactly what her husband would become if provoked. Her
mount could easily outrun his destrier, but it lacked the stamina of the
massive animal. She would have to rest him before long at this pace.

The miles distancing them between
Northwood stretched out. With each hoof-fall, she came closer to Langton and
closer to her da, and closer to heart-wrenching answers. But her heart ached
that she had deceived William, and she missed her bairns already.

No matter now; they were going home.

***

William had been involved with the
reconstruction at the base of one of the wall turrets for quite some time before
one of his sentries came down from the rampart and sharply saluted him.

He gave the man his attention.

“My lord,” the soldier said. “You
had asked that we keep watch over your wife.”

William nodded. “And?”

The soldier did not look worried,
merely puzzled. “She and Lady Hage seem to have disappeared. They rode into a
group of dead trees and we have yet to see them emerge. Should we send out a party?”

“How long have they been missing?”
William asked.

“A while, sire,” the soldier
admitted. “Mayhap over a half hour.”

William wasn’t overly concerned. “They
probably stopped to rest a bit. Give them another half hour and if they still
have not returned, inform me.”

The soldier bowed and dashed off.
Without another thought, William returned his attention to the wall.

A half hour later the soldier was
back. “My lord, they have still not come out.”

William glanced overhead, noting
that the sun was low and soon the gates would be closing. He was sure nothing
was wrong, that the women had simply lost track of the time and he did not want
to go pounding into the trees upsetting them. The last thing he wanted on his
hands was an angry, pregnant wife. With a wry frown, he scratched his head.

“Notify me when the sergeant intends
to close the gates,” he told the man. “If they still have not returned, then I
will go and fetch them. You have not seen any movement at all?”

“None, my lord,” the soldier
replied.

Women
. He shook his head at
their thoughtlessness and dismissed the soldier. They were probably sitting on
the ground gabbing their heads off and forgetting about everything else. He had
to smile at himself, afraid of upsetting his wife. What on earth was he afraid
of? That she would slug him? Or, worse, yet, that she would cry? Most likely
the latter was the reason. He hated to see her cry.           

Paris had scared him with horror
stories of her mood swings during pregnancy, he realized with a chuckle. But
Paris always did manage to blow things out of proportion… didn’t he?

The soldier returned not an hour
later to inform him that the gates were preparing to be secured and his wife
still had not returned. With a muttered curse, William told to the soldier to
hold the gates and went to the stables. The stable master met him, leading a
saddled warmblood.

“My lord.” the older man exclaimed. “Your
wife and Sir Kieran’s wife have not yet returned from their ride and I was….”

“Give me the horse,” William took
the reins irritably. “I shall go find them.”

The warmblood was a big, hearty
animal built for stamina. William galloped the horse from the outer bailey and
out into the fields beyond, taking the general direction that the sentries had
indicated. Dammit, he would find them and give them a good tongue-lashing for
being so inconsiderate. Then he would take Jordan to bed and make love to her,
if she was still speaking to him.

An hour later he was still
searching. The sky had grown dark and there were a multitude of torches blazing
atop the walls waiting for him to return. With the gates still open, they were
vulnerable and anxious.

Kieran and Michael saddled up and
rode out to find him. They met him on the road coming back.

“What’s wrong?” Kieran demanded.

William’s face was gray. “They are
nowhere to be found. But I found these.” He held up two dirty riding dresses.

Kieran felt sick as he gazed back at
his wife’s burgundy garment. “Oh, God, William,” he whispered urgently. “What
in the hell has happened?”

The hand clutching the dresses fell
limply to his side. “I let them go riding. Alone.” He could not believe this
was happening. “They begged to go by themselves and I saw no harm in it as long
as they stayed within sight of the castle.”

Kieran could see how miserable
William was with his confession. He, too, was rapidly slipping into fear and
agony.

“Where are they, then?” he demanded.

“I do not know; I found these
dresses half-buried under some dead leaves.” William was having a difficult
time controlling himself. “But we search now. Michael, mount the knights and
bring as many torches as you can carry. The horses are gone, too, and we can
track them by their shoes providing it doesn’t rain. Come; we have no time to
waste.”

He and Kieran went back down the
road to where William had come across the dresses. They could see fairly well in
the full moonlight as Kieran dismounted and began hunting around with grim determination.

“You will find nothing,” William
said dully. “There is no blood, no signs of a struggle. The dresses aren’t even
ripped.”