The Wolfe (79 page)

Nearly a week later, the Earl of
Hereford sent out a frantic call to the king for assistance. The Welsh border
lords had overrun his border lands and mad Welsh marauders were wreaking havoc.
Once again, William, Kieran, and Deinwald, along with forty other knights and nearly
one thousand men set out for Hereford, hoping to make it in less than four
days. By that time, however, there was no telling just what state they would
find the earl’s keep in, or whether or not the man was even still alive. The
problem there was that if the Welsh were indeed set on invasion, Gloucester was
not far off. William decided to send reinforcements to Gloucester and Worcester
just in case.

Another damn skirmish
,
William thought as he rode from Windsor. He wondered how long this was going to
take, wondering if he would be able to slip away in time for the birth of his
child. His heart simply was not in it; it hadn’t been since the day he left
Northwood.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

Jordan stood at her window, gazing
out over the bleak winter landscape. Of all the seasons to be pregnant, she
decided that winter had to be the worse. Everything was gray and cold, just
like her mood. Snow had fallen the night before, but it was now so much dirty
mush on the ground. As January moved close to February and the birth of her
babe approached, she was growing more anxious by the second, knowing William
had promised to come to her.

Jemma had been confined to her bed
for the past week because of false contractions. Sylvie was afraid she would
deliver early and didn’t want to take any chances. Jordan had spent a great
deal of time with her miserable cousin, but she too was uncomfortable and
miserable and could only take so much of Jemma’s complaining before it
irritated her. Lately, she tried to limit her visits. Between Sylvie, Byron,
Analiese and Aloria, Jemma was well taken care of.

There was a knock at her door; Paris
entered before she had a chance to respond. When she turned to see who it was,
she beckoned to him.

“Paris, good,” she said. “Come here
and rub my back. It pains me today.”

He sighed heavily. “Again? I spent
three hours doing it yesterday and my hands have not yet recovered.”

“Shut yer yap and come here,” she
snapped, taking his hands and placing them on her lower back. “Down there. Aye,
that is good.”

He made a wry face as he rubbed her
strained muscles through her surcoat, silently cursing William for saddling him
with this duty. But he could see for himself how uncomfortable she was. She was
absolutely massive, bigger than Jemma easily, and he wondered seriously if she
carried more than one babe. He’d never seen a pregnant woman so large. In his
opinion, it should be Jordan confined to a bed as well, but Sylvie said there
was no need as long as she was feeling well.

He was rubbing firmly as requested
when suddenly the trumpets atop the wall sounded, announcing incoming riders.
Paris, concern furrowing his brow, went to the window to look. He could see for
himself the band of tiny black dots in the distance.

Michael entered the room. “Paris, we
have incoming.”

“I know,” Paris moved passed him. “Come
on, man, let’s go see who it is.”

Jordan didn’t care who it was. ‘Twas
too early for William’s arrival, and from her new apartments she could not see
the main gates or the outer bailey, so she sat down once again and resumed her
embroidery on the small dressing gown Analiese had made for the baby.

She must have fallen asleep for when
she awoke, Paris was entering her room. He had the strangest look on his face.
She sat up, rubbing at her eyes.

“What’s wrong, Paris?” she asked “Ye
look queer.”

Truth was, Paris looked shocked. He
took a few steps into the room and she immediately noticed that someone
followed him.

It was Kieran.

Her mouth opened wide in delight. “Kieran.
Where is William?”

Kieran smiled feebly. “My lady, you
look ripe to bursting. As does your cousin. Have you been well?”

“I am fine,” she immediately noticed
he had avoided her first question. Her initial delight was quickly cooling into
something so dark and sinister she did not even want to think about it. “Kieran,
where is William?”

“In London, my lady,” he replied
softly, coming into the room. Paris closed the door and followed him.

“Isna he coming, too?” she asked.

She was aware that Paris had moved
to stand beside her chair. Kieran pulled up a chair to sit in front of her. She
studied his face, he looked pale and weary and not at all like himself. Her
concern was igniting something far more powerful in the pit of her belly.

“What is wrong, Kieran. Where is
William?” It was a calm, deliberate statement. She wanted an answer.

Kieran glanced up at Paris before
answering her. “He is in London, as I said.” He let out a sigh, running his
hand over his short cropped hair. “God, Jordan, I wish there was an easy way to
tell you this, but I cannot think of one. Forgive me for being blunt and
insensitive. I am here because William was wounded in a skirmish three weeks
ago.”

Her stomach lurched. He had been
wounded before, severely, she told herself quickly.
He will survive
. “How
badly?” she asked calmly.

Kieran looked at her and she could
read the pain in his eyes. “Bad, my lady,” he whispered. “We were fighting
Welsh usurpers, overwhelmed by the sheer number of them. There were so many
that it was as if the mountains were alive with them. William was magnificent,
as always, showing no signs of weariness even though we had been fighting for nearly
three days. We thought the heat of the battle had passed and we relaxed a bit,
nothing unusual about that. William had raised his faceplate to wipe his brow
when he was hit out of nowhere from a crossbow.”

She continued to stare at him
calmly, fighting to maintain herself. It was the most desperate fight of her
life. “Where was he hit?”

“In the face,” Kieran said in a
raspy voice. “The arrow took out his left eye. He was lucky to have survived at
all.”

She sat there a moment, her face
draining of all color and her hands gripped the arms of the chair like a vise.
She was trying to will all of her efforts into controlling herself, but tears
came in spite of her fervent attempt. She vaguely felt Paris’ hands on her shoulders.

“But he lives and that is all that
matters,” she whispered.

Kieran sighed, his shoulders sagging.
“He lives, but barely,” he murmured. “We nearly lost him to the fever, but it
broke. Now he cannot seem to regain his strength. I do not know if he’s going
to survive, Jordan. The king’s personal physician has spent day and night with
him and even he doesn’t know. We have called a priest for him three times
already.”

She was shaking violently, her mind
racing.
William was dying
. Sweet Jesu’, it wasn’t possible. He had
promised to return to her.
He had promised!

Her mind flew back to the moment she
first met him when he lay dying on the dark rich earth of Scotland; a lifetime
ago, it seemed. She had tended him and he had recovered. When she nearly died
from the fever, he had tended her and she had lived. He had never left her.

Now he needed her again and she
would go to him. He would live for her. He had to. Determination such as she
had never known filled her, blocking out everything else in its violent wake.

Rising unsteadily but with
conviction, she fixed Kieran with an icy glare. “You will take me to him.”

“Out of the question,” Paris told
her as gently as he could. “You cannot travel.”

She whirled on Paris like a rabid
dog. “I tended his wound once before; the thigh wound that should have killed
him,” she snarled. “I will tend him now and he will live. I am going if I have
to walk every step of the way.”

Paris’ jaw ticked. “I cannot allow
it.”

“Go to hell.” she hissed, turning
away from him. “Kieran, ye get a meal and rest. I shall send my servant to ye
when I am ready.”

Kieran was stricken. “Jordan, be reasonable,”
he said helplessly. He did not want to have a shouting match with her. “You
cannot travel in your current state. I think….”

Jordan cut him off. “I shall send
for ye.” she repeated through clenched teeth. She glanced at the expressions on
the two men, not liking what she was seeing. Her anger cooled to stone-hard
grit, steadfastness of epic proportions. When she spoke again, her voice was
low. “Listen to me, knights, and listen well: William needs me and I am going
to him. If ye try and stop me, ye will be very sorry. Nothing can stop me, so
ye may either help me or ye be in my way. And if ye be in my way, I will kill
ye.”

She disappeared into her bedchamber
Kieran and Paris looked at each other after a moment.

“What now?” Kieran asked with desperation.

Paris scratched his head and kicked
the chair, as emotional as Kieran had ever seen him. “She’s going to have the
babe on the road if she goes,” he muttered. “Damnation!”

Kieran was feeling his exhaustion.
He had ridden all the way from London in six days, and from Wales before that.
He was tired to the bone.

“She’s going to go regardless of
what you tell her, Paris,” he said quietly.

“Then what would you suggest,
Kieran?” Paris demanded harshly. “For I am out of answers. If she goes, I
cannot go with her and I would be breaking my promise to William to protect her
always.”

“Why can’t you go?” Kieran asked.

Paris sat heavily, rubbing his
forehead between two fingers. He was so damned tired, too. “The Scots are
fortifying their defenses across the border,” he replied wearily. “Our scouts
say that they are amassing. We cannot get a message to Laird Scott because the
Scot line cuts between us. They are isolating clan Scott for an attack. I am
needed here now more than ever.”

Kieran let out a long sigh. “Damn,”
he mumbled. “Have you sent word to Beverley and Deauxville Mount?”

“Aye, yesterday,” Paris replied,
then looked up at his friend. “Why is it that everything always happens at
once? I am growing old before my time.”

“You were already old,” Kieran said,
scratching at his neck and grunting wearily. “Now, then, I am going to find the
priest and have him marry Jemma and I before I leave. I shall be in her
bedchamber should you need me.”

“Aye,” Paris replied. As Kieran
headed for the door, Paris called out to him. “Welcome back, Kieran.”

Kieran grinned weakly. “Thank you, I
think,” he said, quitting the room.

Jordan was ready to leave by early
afternoon. With help from her maids she had packed her clothes, including surcoats
for after the birth of the baby, all of the baby clothes she had made, and a
few clothes for William. She didn’t know why she packed his things, but she
did. Mayhap it was for some measure of comfort, however small.

Sylvie was beside herself. She
followed Jordan about as she packed, raving and pleading with her not to go to
London. When she resorted to begging, Jordan had enough of the whimpering and
chased her away. She was so grimly resolute to see William that she would have
walked through God himself to get to him.

Sylvie left her mistress, but not
before she laid into Paris. Paris listened calmly enough, agreeing with the
woman but pointing out that unless they were going to physically restrain the earless,
there was no way to keep her from going.

Jordan was so busy packing that she
missed Jemma’s wedding. In fact, she wasn’t even told of it until Analiese came
spilling into her rooms and blurted it out. Quite a bit of excitement coming
from Analiese. Then, she saw Jordan’s trunks and bags and her chatter turned to
questions.

Jordan was tired of pretenses and
lying. Since the earl was dead and she was going to London, there was no reason
to lie to anymore. Especially to Analiese. The woman had become her trusted
friend.

“I am going to London to see
William,” Jordan said firmly.

Analiese was shocked a puzzled. “But
why? Of course, I realize he is near death, but why is it so necessary for you
to go to him?”

Jordan swallowed hard, trying not to
lose her nerve. “Because…because I dinna marry your father as ye thought, Analiese.”

Analiese’s eyes widened. “What are
you talking about? I was there, Jordan, and witnessed everything.”

“What you witnessed was a grand
blessing, not a wedding mass,” she tugged on her friend’s hand and directed her
into a chair.  She held her hands tightly, gazing into that pale and average
face. “William and I loved each other from nearly the day we met. Yer father
discovered this secret and arranged for us to be wed, in secret. We were wed
the day before the king arrived and the ceremony ye witnessed was nothing more
than a farce.” Her face softened as she gazed at Analiese’s stunned expression.
“I am sorry I have never told ye until now. I was afraid to, knowing how ye felt
about William.”