The Wolfe (74 page)

“A noble gesture, but useless I say,”
he said. “You are now English, Jordan. You represent the enemy.”

She bit her lip. When she remained
silent, he rose and stretched his long legs, pleased she had taken the news of
her father so well but wondering how de Longley was progressing with the king.
He was becoming increasingly desperate to speak with the man. Paris moved from
the shadows and, whispering something into William’s ear, headed for the door.

“If ye stay here ye’ll be fighting
my kin,” Jordan said softly, staring at the floor. “If ye go with the king,
ye’ll be fighting Welsh. Either way, English, ‘tis battle for ye. I dunna know
if I like that. Nay; I dunna like it at all.”

Paris and William passed glances at
each other before Paris silently quit the room.

William gazed over at Jordan a long
time. She was staring dreamily off into space, still dressed in her magnificent
ivory and gold wedding surcoat. She looked so lovely and fragile and the depths
of his love for her went beyond words. He was suddenly seized with an urge to
hold her, to take her, to make her his again and again as he had so many times.

He went over to her, his body
beginning to tingle with anticipation. When he held out his hand, she gazed up
and him and put her small hand in it without a word.

“Come, wife,” he said hoarsely. “I
would bed you as mine own now.”

She smiled, wrapping her arms
tightly about his neck as he swept her and the huge dress into his arms and
carried her into the bedchamber.

In a matter of moments they were
stripped to the naked skin and on top of the cool linen sheets, their kisses
hot and passionate and their hands roving eagerly about each other. William’s
tongue was licking her, lapping every bit of skin he could find in his frantic
hunt to taste every inch of her. She was responding to him recklessly, without
reserve, loving his touch more and more with every stroke of his hand.

He tried to roll over on her but she
put up her hands, instead, pushing him over on his back. He smiled at her
through half-closed lids, reaching up to catch her lips once, twice, before she
gently pushed him back down on the pillows. With a wicked little smile, she
began to kiss and run her tongue over his warm, musky flesh.

“Oh, my Wolf,” she whispered
seductively. “How I wish we could do this all day,” she ran her tongue down his
sternum, “every day,” she plunged her tongue into his navel and drew a groan
from him, “and all night I dream of yer body next to mine.”  

He raised his head to watch as she
ran her mouth over his groin, raking her fingers through the crisp black hair.
Her long silky hair was spread erotically over her back and dripping onto his
thighs, covering them both. He filched with pure pleasure when her hot hands
gently grasped his testicles, stroking his heavy organ sensually.

His anticipation was at a fevered
pitch, watching and waiting for her wet mouth to come down on him. When the
rapturous moment arrived, his head slammed down onto the pillow and his eyes
rolled back into his head. He could not believe the unadulterated pleasure that
surged through his veins.

Her tongue was teasing him into
insanity. Her searing mouth plunged down on his again and again until he
savagely pulled her up by her hair, flipping her onto her back and driving into
her so hard he rammed her head into the carved oaken headboard.

Jordan cried out with total ecstasy
as he drove into her again and again, pounding her with the force of his
thrusts until wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her, but still he was
not finished. He was unstoppable, wanting his pleasure to last because
somewhere in the back of his mind he was unsure when they would be together
again. He wanted to remember this, to sustain him for the weeks and months to
come.

To feel her throbbing heat surround
him, pull at him, was sweetness unimaginable. When his climax finally came, he
poured into her, imagining that his seed would find its mark and she would bear
him a son. He so wanted a child that was a part of her, a part of him; to carry
on his legend and blood.

Strange he should think of that now;
an heir had never held much importance to him. But because it was Jordan, and
child from her would be the greatest event of his life. And, God forbid, should
he perish in the imminent wars that were coming, he wanted her to have
something of him.

They lay together in the stillness
of the night, clutching each other as their breathing slowed and their bodies
cooled. Still half-aroused and buried in her, William felt her go limp and knew
she had fallen asleep. He smiled; he knew how tired she was from the day.
Closing his eyes, sleep claimed him as well.

***

The reply from Northwood reached
Thomas near the deadline he had given the clans for his own response. Cord had
ridden like the devil through the night to reach Langton and was near collapse
by the time he spilled in through the gates.

Thomas held the missive bearing the earl’s
seal for a while before opening it. It was as if staring at it long enough and
hard enough would forcibly will the parchment to bear the answer he sought.

Nathaniel hovered over his shoulder
while Matthew sat in a chair across the room, waiting patiently.

“Dammit, man, open it,” Nathaniel
demanded eagerly. “We have no time to waste.”

Thomas sighed reluctantly before
finally breaking the seal with his finger. Unrolling the missive, he read it
all the way through without any reaction whatsoever.

Nathaniel was joined by Matthew in
his hovering, both men watching their eldest brother’s face for any clue as to
the content. But Thomas gave no outward clue, even as he lowered the vellum to
his lap

“Well?” Nathaniel blurted. “What
does it say?”

Thomas looked tired suddenly. He set
the message down on the table next to him and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“It says that we are going to war,”
he replied softly.

“Damnable English,” Nathaniel
exploded. “They’re betraying the treaty. I told ye they were not to be trusted.”

“Nay, Nathaniel, I dinna say we were
going to war agin the English,” he looked at both of his brothers, one at a
time. ‘Tis a blood war, lads. Northwood has agreed to support us. The only
battle we’ll be fighting will be agin our clansmen when we inform them of our
decision.”

Nathaniel looked taken aback. He
stared at his brother a moment before turning away.

“Then the English have more honor
than I gave them credit for,” Matthew said. “I dinna think they would do it.”

Thomas nodded faintly. “Lord, I
wonder if Jordan had anything to do with this,” he murmured. “Is it possible
that she has been accepted enough that she could convinced them to support us?”

Matthew shrugged. “Jordi is a sweet
girl, but she is not a soldier,” he said. “I am sure the earl wouldna do
anything he dinna want to, no matter what his betrothed said. No, I say he is
being entirely honorable. Amazing for a Sassenach.”

Thomas stared at the paper on the
table. “Then it seems the only thing to do is to send a missive to McKenna and
prepare our troops,” he said.

No one wanted to retrieve the ink
and parchment. They simply remained frozen where they were, their minds
contemplating the enormity of the actions they were about to create. Dear God,
they hoped the English weren’t lying or didn’t change their minds. Everything
they were, everything they were about to do, was in Sassenach hands.

‘Twas an appalling, frightening
prospect.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

There was a rap on the door and
William was instantly awake. Bolting from the bed, he went into the antechamber
stark naked and opened the door, giving no mind to his appearance.

The earl stood in the arch, not so
much as passing an eye over his captain’s nude form. “Come with me,” he said
quietly. “
Now.”

William was dressed in a matter of
minutes, closing Jordan’s door softly behind him. The earl led him down the
hall, bypassing the stairs, and William wondered where they were going.
Reaching a small alcove that overlooked the distant hills, the earl paused. William
faced him intently.

“There is no easy way to deal with
this, William,” the earl said. “I spoke with Henry and told him of the Scots. I
insisted that you cannot leave me now, not with the threat of total war on the
border. But the king seems to think that one man will not make or break victory.
He is absolute in that he needs you in London to plan his Welsh campaign.”

William stared at him with disbelief.
“Then I am going to London.” He ran a hand over his face to try and regain some
of his escaping composure. “Doesn’t he understand what united Scots will mean
to the border? Every English castle within a seventy mile radius of the border
will be at risk, including Durham and Newcastle-on-Tyne. York might even be at
risk. I am needed far more here that on some damn raiding party into Wales.”

The earl put his hands up in
supplication. “I know, and I told him. He knows it, but he seems to think we
are quite capable without you. He knows Paris is quite competent in handling
the troops.” He went over and sat heavily on the large window seat. “He read
the missive from Laird Scott. Henry has been King of England for twenty-five
years, William, and he simply does not believe that all of the Scot war lords
will unite into one massive army. And even if they do, with their bickering and
fighting, any true organization could take years. Right now, he is more
concerned with the Welsh and he feels that with you as his champion, Wales can
be controlled. Seems your reputation has spread even to Wales.”

William sat down opposite the earl,
bracing a leg up on the bench seat as he gazed out of the window. He was
stunned.

“I cannot leave Jordan,” he said
simply.

“She will be safe here.”

William looked at his liege. “I will
not leave her.”

“You have no choice.”

William stared back at him a moment
before again letting his gaze trail off across the compound. “Send her to Wolverhampton.
My brother will provide well for her, and she would be closer to London. And to
me.”

“Your brother, the earl?” de Longley
repeated. “That is possible, indeed. But would it be wise? Should the king hear
that the Earl of Teviot’s new bride is staying at the Earl of Wolverhampton’s
keep, a man who just happens to be the brother of Northwood’s former captain,
it would raise questions.”

William had already thought of that,
but in his urgent quest to keep Jordan near him, he needed to hear the voice of
reason.

De Longley watched him for a moment
before patting him on the leg.  “We shall think of something, William, but
until then Jordan will be safe here. The people love her, the knights would die
for her, and my family is growing accustomed to her. Without you near her, she
needs to be surrounded by familiar people. Which brings me to another point;
all of the knights will demand to go with you. I will allow you to take no more
than two, for reasons which I am sure you will understand.”

William knew indeed; with the
impending crisis de Longley needed all of his experienced men. He scratched his
chin. “Paris will want to go.”

“Out of the question,” the earl said
firmly. “Paris is now my captain. “And, I would imagine, Lady Jordan’s
champion. But any of the others are acceptable.”

William swung his leg onto the
floor. “‘Twill not be an easy decision,” he admitted. “Paris and I have not
been without one another for several years. Kieran, Michael, Marc and I were
squires together. Ranulf helped train me. I myself knighted Corin, Adam,
Deinwald and Lewis. I have ties to all of them.”

The earl nodded. “Make your decision
this night, if you will. The king is eager to leave on the morrow, I think.”

William wasn’t surprised. He brooded
darkly and the earl slapped him on the shoulder.

“In spite of everything, William,
congratulations are in order,” he said with forced joviality. “A title and the
king’s champion all in the same day is quite an honor, Baron Kilham.”

William was pleased by the honors,
of course, but for him the price was too high. He smiled at de Longley in spite
of himself.

“It has been a pleasure serving you,
my lord,” he said, feeling emotional. “I will always consider Northwood my
home, and you, my liege.”

“It will always be your home, lad.” De
Longley felt as if he was losing a son. “Why do you think I am keeping Jordan
here? I know you will return for her, and then I will get to see you again.”

“You will indeed,” William said with
conviction.

The earl chuckled, in agreement,
William thought.  But the man continued to chuckle until William shot him a
puzzled look. De Longley caught the look, waving him off.

“I am sorry,” he said. “It is
just… well, if Henry knew I was telling you this he would likely draw and
quarter me. But the king mentioned that lands come with your title, lad… border
lands.”