The Wolfe (85 page)

“I must comfort him,” she whispered.

He didn’t try to stop her. Instead,
he lifted her from the bed and carried her over to where Kieran stood. Gently
setting her down, he backed away as Jordan threw her arms around the big knight
and they cried away their anguish.

William simply stood, watching, his
heart breaking for the both of them. He’d never seen any of his knights cry,
least of all Kieran. He hoped that Jordan could offer him at least a small
amount of comfort until he was able to see his wife again.

But there were bigger things at
hand, at least for him. Henry had a sizable force amassed for him to lead back
to the border and even now the king awaited his presence. He was damn reluctant
to leave at this moment but he had no choice.

Pulling Deinwald with him, they
ducked into a small alcove where William kept his armor. Between he and his
knight, his armor was assembled and latched in no time. They had worked
silently, knowing what was coming and mentally preparing themselves for it.
William and Deinwald had seen so many battles together that there was never any
need for words. It was as if they could read each other’s minds.

They emerged into the bedchamber a
few minutes later to find Jordan and Kieran sitting on the bed. William could
see that Kieran was calm now and he was listening intently to Jordan’s soft
voice. He wished he could allow them more time to deal with their grief, but
there were simply too many pressing matters. He needed Kieran with him.

“Kieran,” he said quietly.

Kieran stood, looking somewhat
sheepish at his earlier display of emotion. “My lord?”

Since Kieran seemed intent on moving
forward and put the outburst behind him, William was too. “You will attend me
at my meeting with Henry. Deinwald, see to the assembling of the troops and
make sure all knights are present. If I am going into battle, I want a full
complement. As see if we can send a missive on ahead to Northwood, letting them
know we are riding to their aid.”

“Aye, my lord,” Deinwald was moving
from the room. William turned to Kieran.

“I want to speak with the messenger
from Northwood and find out exactly what we will be dealing with, including the
current state of Langton. I need to find out the state of the Scot forces.”

Kieran nodded, his armor clanging as
he moved for the door. He appeared almost forced in his manner, wanting to get
his mind off his sorrow. Jordan watched him with a great deal of sadness as he disappeared
into the antechamber.

“He is devastated, English,” she
whispered to her husband. “Be easy on him.”

William gazed down at her, so lovely
in her flowing white dressing gown. His heart was being squeezed at the thought
of leaving her yet again.

“He is a knight, Jordan,” he said. “I
cannot afford him anymore consideration than anyone else, less so because he is
my second. He is a strong man.”

She pursed her lips regretfully,
thinking on his words. So ye’ll be leaving me once more, will ye?” She shook
her head. “Seems we just come together and ye are riding off again.”

He stood before her, watching the
sunlight from the window play on her hair. “I am sorry. But at least I was here
when you needed me most.”

“Which brings me to my next subject,”
she said thoughtfully. “The priest will be christening the babes in a few days.
We havena discussed names yet.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you decide is
fine with me,” he told her. As much as he would like to help her select names,
he had more pressing things on his mind.

“Then I have already selected the
names,” she announced bravely.

It was as if she had been waiting
for him to leave the naming to her. By the tone of her voice, she had apparently
decided a while ago. He fought off a smile.

“Is that so?” he put his hands on
his hips stubbornly. “Then tell me so that I may approve.”

He saw a flash of stubbornness in
her eyes. “Approve or not, ‘tis what I want,” she told him. “I have decided
that our firstborn will bear the name of Scott, in honor of my clan and of my
father. Our second son will bear the name of Troy, in honor of yer best friend
and captain of Northwood for going above and beyond the call of duty during my
months of pregnancy. He was a godsend to me, English, and I should like to
honor him.”

“Scott and Troy?” he repeated
thoughtfully. “Hmmm. I do not get a child named for me? I am, after all, their
father.”

“They bear the name de Wolfe, and
that is yer name, is it not?” she said slyly, watching him snort at the
technicality. “But I have thought of ye and yer father as well. Scott’s full
name will be Scott William Edward de Wolfe. Troy’s full name will be Troy Paris
Richard de Wolfe, for Paris and his father.”

William was immensely pleased. He
scowled at her, however, in feigned outrage. “Let Paris name his own sons after
himself. Why does my son need to bear his name?”

She rose stiffly, knowing he was not
truly outraged. “Because, English, he did ye a great service by watching over
me and ye bloody well know it,” she said. “And, furthermore, ye have served
with him for many years and ye….”

He cut her off by pulling her
against him. “Fine, fine, I agree with you,” he said, hugging her. “Christen my
sons Scott and Troy.”

She smiled happily at him. “Thank ye
for ye approval, husband.”

He raised his eyebrows. “As if I had
a choice.”

She continued to gaze up at him when
suddenly her eyes turned misty.

“What’s wrong?” his brows drew
together.

She was trying not to cry. “Langton,”
she said softly. “Oh, English, what has become of my Da? My family?”

“I do not know, love,” he replied,
rubbing her arms comfortingly. “But I will find out, I swear it. I shall take
care of your family.”

She sniffed and blinked. “I know ye
will. But I dunna know if they will take kindly to The Wolf.”

“They have no choice,” he said
sternly. “Since I am the father of two new kinsmen.”

She smiled through her tears. “My Da
will be so pleased to finally have sons,” she said. “Do be gentle when ye tell
him his daughter married the most feared Sassenach warrior on the border. He is
likely to burst a vein.”

“Better than him bursting my head
open with a mace,” he grinned, pushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Do
not worry, love. The Wolf is returning to his home. Everything will be as it should
be.”

She reached up and touched his
patch. “Can ye fight all right now? I know how hard ye’ve been practicing.”

“I am better than all right,” he said
confidently.

She believed him and it made her
feel much better. She very much wanted to go to Northwood with him but knew it
was impossible at the moment.

“Will ye send for me when everything
is taken care of?” she asked hopefully.

“Aye, you know I will,” he assured
her. “Mayhap we will even occupy Questing for a time, but should Henry call me
back to London then you will come with me. I will never be separated from you
again, and the king be damned.”

She frowned. “What do ye mean ‘the
king be damned’?”

“Because he still believes you to be
the Countess, of course,” he reminded her patiently.

She shook her head. “He knows I am
your wife,” she informed him. When he looked at her with a mixture of disbelief
and fear, she nodded firmly. “Aye, he knows, William. I told him myself the
very day I arrived. He has not said anything to ye yet?”

“Nay,” he shook his head in wonder,
but he was also angry with her. “Why did you tell him, Jordan? ‘Twas not your
place.”

“Not my place?” she repeated
incredulously. “I am yer wife, English. ‘Twas not only my place, it was my
right. He saw me when I arrived and called me ‘countess’. I was frightened for
ye and wanted to tell him at the first why I had come to London, to tend ye. I
dunna think he was very happy, in faith, but at least he knows the truth of it
now.”

William rubbed the back of his neck
worriedly. Truth was, she had saved him the responsibility and it was much
harder to strike a pregnant woman than a large, healthy knight. He deduced that
if Henry were truly angry then he would not have commanded William to lead
troops back to Northwood. Nor would he still be the king’s champion, or a baron
for that matter. William found that he was greatly relieved that the monarch
knew their secret.

At least he knew now, heading into
his audience with the king, that Jordan had told the man everything. Better to
be prepared.

“Speaking of the king, he is
expecting me.” He would not dwell on what she had done. Leaning down, he gave
her a swift kiss on the lips, but she latched onto his neck with her arms and
would not let him go. He responded automatically, kissing her deeply until he
forced himself away from her with a groan.  “Do not do this to me, Jordan.
Making love to you is out of the question, although it has been an eternity and
I would dearly love to.”

“I miss ye already,” she whispered.

He left her with another kiss, but
not before making sure she got back in bed with Analiese in attendance. His
mind at ease with his wife and children taken care of, he marched from his
apartments and prepared himself for his meeting with Henry.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

Henry did not mince words; he was
short and to the point. He was bloody well pissed off at the whole situation
and William wondered if Alexander would be facing the swordsman when he
returned to London. Henry’s veins bulged on his temple as he ranted and raved
about the stupidity of a certain new earl and cursing the Scots in the same
breath. Not only did he have problems with the damnable Welsh, but the Scots
were becoming completely unreasonable as well. He would send a missive to King
Alexander of Scotland and demand that the man control his border lords… or
else.

William stood stoically in front of
his king, listening to the ramblings of an angry old man. Around him, his
courtiers remained in silent agreement, offering small opinions to reinforce
the king’s own ideals.

William was completely focused on
the king until he began to notice that the ladies present were looking at him
and sending him coy, meaningful glances. He was irritated at their attentions,
tearing his gaze away from Henry only once to shoot the group of them a
reproachful glare. Undaunted, they continued until Henry dismissed the entire
room with the exception of William.

He came down off the dais, giving
William the once-over as he calmed his boiling blood.

“You look as if you could take on
the devil and win,” the king commented.

“Mayhap that is just what I will be
doing, sire.”

The king grunted. “I am glad to have
my champion back. We came close to losing you a few times, didn’t we?”

“I am better than ever now, sire,”
came the firm reply.

Henry nodded, fixing William with a
stare. “And I understand congratulations are in order. I hear your wife birthed
two healthy sons yesterday.”

William faltered for a split second.
“Aye, sire. She and the twins are doing very well. Allow me to apologize for
not telling you of the true situation between Lady Jordan and myself. ‘Twas
wrong of me, I know.”

Henry looked impassive. “Aye, it
was. But you are not entirely to blame. Yet I must tell you that if John were
alive he would be the recipient of the royal wrath. I am unused to being
deceived in such a manner.”

“What the earl did, sire, he did out
of respect for me,” William defended his late liege. “He knew of my feelings
for Jordan and he also knew that she returned those feelings. To marry her
would have caused a great many people misery, including himself. He did not
want a bride. Believe me when I tell you that he did not allow me to marry
Jordan just to spite you.”

Henry shrugged thoughtfully, yet
with an irritated cock of the brow. “Be that as it may, it still serves a
purpose in that Lady Jordan is married to a border lord, yet I understand that
there is virtually no Langton left to be allied with.”

“So I have been informed, sire,”
William answered grimly.

Henry paced back to his chair. “I
would know the situation as soon as you reach Northwood. I have no patience
with the bloody Scots and their mindless war games. What they are doing is
foolhardy and well they know it. ‘Tis a time for a show of force from the crown
to chase the little bastards back into their holes. Be swift and painful,
William.”

“Aye, my lord,” William replied,
meeting his king’s gaze.

“You know, you are somehow different
to me,” Henry said as almost an afterthought. “‘Tis not only the obvious, but
something in your stance. Your manner. Has this injury affected you so?”

William shook his head, puzzled. “I
know not what you mean, my lord.”

Henry rubbed his chin, leaning on
his arm rest. “Mayhap I know not, either. The de Wolfe I brought with me from
Northwood was pure warrior, the invincible champion. The de Wolfe I see before
me has suddenly taken on dimension.”