The Wolfe (96 page)

The column slowed as they came
closer, the destriers dancing and snorting and making a great commotion. The
sun had dried the earth a bit and clouds of new dust flew into the air, adding
to the confusion the troop was creating.

The inhabitants of the courtyard
were desperate to get out of their way. Jordan felt Roan put an insistent hand
on her arm, but she didn’t move. The armor and the men riding in were strangely
familiar.

Like lightening, it struck her.
Before anyone could stop her, she was squealing in delight and running like a
rabbit for the knights at the head of the column. Roan, alarmed, took steps to pursue
but a rare shout from Byron stopped him.

“Nay, man,” the little physician
said. “Do you not recognize The Wolf when you see him?”

William de Wolfe had returned.

***

William saw Jordan running toward
them, surprised beyond words that she happened to be in the courtyard at the
exact time he chose to ride in. He had hoped to surprise her, but suddenly she
was dashing toward him and he was so overwhelmed with happiness that he
dismounted his horse before it even came to a complete stop.

Jordan opened her arms wide,
laughing and crying at the same time as she threw herself into her husband’s
waiting arms. It didn’t matter that all she could feel was cold metal, jabbing
and scratching at her. All that mattered was that he was here, and he was safe
and real. He had come back for her and her heart was bursting with overwhelming
joy.

“Ye’re truly here!” she cried. “Oh,
English, I canna believe ‘tis ye. Take off that blasted helmet and let me see
yer face.”

He set her down, rapidly obliging
her request. When the helmet came off, he was grinning from ear to ear and she
threw herself at him again, kissing every inch of his exposed face. He should
have discouraged her from such an open display in front of his men, but he could
not.

In fact, he was responding just as feverishly.
They were giggling and laughing delightedly in between heated kisses until he
grasped her face to stop her.

“Jordan, love, you look magnificent,”
he gushed for her ears only. “God, I could not believe it was you when we came
riding in. What are you doing out here?”

“Going for a walk,” she informed him
joyfully. Her eyes drank in the sight of him. “Oh, English, ‘tis so good to see
ye!”

His gaze turned soft and smoky. “You
have no idea how much I have missed you How are the twins?”

“Fat and happy,” she was grinning
broadly. “They eat like little pigs and are already smiling. Ye’ll be surprised
when ye see them.”

“I have missed them,” he said. “I
bet they’ve grown a score since I have been gone.”

Jordan started to reply when a
familiar voice cut in. “How come I did not receive a greeting?” It was Paris,
who then turned to the other knights. “Why is he privileged to such a greeting?
You would think she was in love with him.”

Jordan and William turned around and
it was then that Jordan realized William had brought his knights with him. All
of them. She was speechless with delight.

“Paris!” she gasped. “And who else?
Damnation, I canna recognize ye with yer helmets on. Take them off, all of ye,
so that I may see ye.”

The mighty knights of Northwood
revealed themselves to her, all of them grinning like fools - Paris, Kieran, Michael,
Deinwald, Ranulf, Marc, Jason and Corin. She gazed back at them with pure joy,
so pleased to once again see them riding with her husband. They were all so
powerful, so massive in their own individual way and she was sure that her
husband had the handsomest knights in the realm. Her heart swelled with pride
and happiness; they had all come to escort her home and she knew that she would
be the envy of every woman at court.

But she noticed immediately that two
were missing, and she did not recognize one of them. She eyed the new knight,
his face pleasant enough, but her curiosity for the missing two was overwhelming.

“Where are Lewis and Adam?” she
asked her husband.

His smile faltered just a bit. “I
shall tell you everything in a moment. But for now, I would like to retire to
our apartments and you can start packing your things. We are going home.”

She gave a happy little laugh and
threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. The smell of her, the
feel of her, was enough to melt him to the very core.

All of the knights dismounted, their
destriers taken by various soldiers, and followed a joyful William and Jordan
back across the compound to where Byron and her escorts waited. Roan saluted
smartly as William approached.

“My lord,” he greeted. “We were not
expecting you personally.”

William nodded shortly. “Yet it
seems I have come,” he replied, glancing at his wife. “Jordan, go with Byron
and the others. Paris, Kieran, Roan and I will be along in a moment.”

She looked a bit puzzle but obeyed,
taking Deinwald and Michael’s arms and leading them back into the castle. When
he was sure his wife was out of earshot, he turned to Roan.

“What of de Troiu?” he demanded
quietly.

“The man is as persistent as a damn
fly, sire,” Roan replied distastefully. “He came around as you suspected and
demanded to see your wife. I sent him away, not once but several times. And
just this morn we encountered him on our walk and I had to physically restrain
the man.”

William’s jaw ticked dangerously. He
glanced at Paris before turning back to Roan. “Where is he?”

“Wait a moment, William,” Paris
interjected. “You cannot call the man out, not right now.”

“Like hell,” William snapped. “The
bastard is after my wife and now he will have to reckon with me.”

“My lord, de Troiu is a favorite of
the king at the moment,” Roan said. “As are you. He will not be pleased if
either one of you meet with a blade.”

William opened his mouth to tell Roan
to shut up when Kieran stepped in hastily. “Let us go to your apartments and
help your wife pack.” He put a big hand on William’s shoulder and the other on
Paris’ insistently. “Let us think this through for a moment before we do
anything. Agreed?”

He gave them both a shove and
William was reluctant to comply, but he did. The four of them marched into the
castle, drawing stares from all they encountered. Word spread like wildfire
that The Wolf had returned to Windsor, and William knew it would simply be a
matter of time before Henry was beating down his door demanding audience. He
had to get to Jordan and calm himself down.

His wife had taken the knights
directly to their comfortable apartments. As soon as the men were through the
door they began to demand to see William’s new sons as she knew they would, and
was very proud to do them the honor.

Reemerging from the nursery with one
son in each arm, the aggressive knights immediately turned into calm, docile
men as she presented her babes.

She held the infants as the knights
fawned over them, cooing strange baby language and confidently suggesting which
son looked like which parent. Jordan was pleased and honored at their
attentions, amazed that such fierce men could be turned into quivering,
reverent humans at the simple sight of a baby. But she knew that it should not
surprise her, for her husband had the same reaction. It was no time before she
was handing the babes off to eager arms.

Her husband and Kieran and Paris
entered the antechamber a short while later. While she turned eagerly to William,
Paris began to rant loudly.

“Which of these little pups is my
namesake?” he demanded with obvious delight. “I would have him now.”

Jordan, tearing her eyes from her
husband, pointed to the child Michael held. “That is Troy, Paris.”

Paris went immediately to retrieve
the child, oblivious to Michael’s protests, and smiled happily at the
dark-haired boy.

William came to her, putting his arm
around her waist and smiling faintly as his knights delivered uncompromised
attention to his sons. As badly as he wanted to hold his boys, he knew there
would be plenty of time later. At this moment, he had more pressing matters on
his mind that required a moment of privacy with his wife.

Kieran stood back away from the
group, his handsome face distant. Jordan could see his discomfort and pulled
away from her husband to go to him.

“How’s Jemma?” she asked softly,
curling her hands around his huge forearms.

“She is improving,” he said
truthfully, forcing a smile. “She begged to come with us, but I forbade her and
she is quite angry with me.”

Jordan smiled sadly. “How is she
faring with… well, with the babe gone?”

His own smile faded. “She is faring
as well as can be expected,” he said quietly. “We both are.”

She knew he would tell her more
later, when they were in private, so she did not push for answers. Instead, she
went over to Ranulf and took Scott from him. Returning, she placed the blond
babe gently in Kieran’s massive arms.

“Hold him for a while,” she said
with a tight voice. “He smiles now, did ye know? Speak to him.”

Kieran gazed down at the baby, whose
wide blue eyes gazed up at him curiously. It was such an innocent, comical look
that he smiled.

“Well, Scott, I see that you are
looking more like your mother, thankfully,” he said softly.

The babe’s reaction was to smile a
silly, toothless grin at him that melted his heart. The pain of his own loss
was somehow intensified, yet somehow lessened at the same time. He fell
instantly in love with the little lad.

“William, this child looks the
spitting image of you,” Paris said gravely from across the room. “Why could you
not name the child that looks like Jordan after me? I am, after all, blond as
she is. Why must my namesake have your swarthy devil looks?”

Jordan’s eyebrows rose in feigned
outrage. “Are ye saying, Paris de Norville, that my son is ugly?”

“Nay, my lady, not at all,” he
amended quickly. “The child is beautiful. ‘Twas your husband I was calling
ugly.”

Jordan went to William and put her
arms around him protectively. “He is no such thing,” she said adoringly. “He’s
the most beautiful man this side of heaven.”

The knights chuckled at the use of
‘beautiful’. William put his arms around her. “How many times do I have to tell
you that men are not beautiful?” he said.

She smiled sweetly up at him and he
returned her loving gaze. With their sons well taken care of, William decided
that the time was right to have a brief discussion with his wife. He pulled her
along with him into the bedchamber and closed the door behind them.

Jordan watched her husband as he
wordlessly removed his armor from the waist up. Her limbs tingled with
anticipation at being able to finally touch his flesh and she wondered
excitedly if he was going to make love to her at this very moment, even with
his knights in the other room. But instead of opening his arms to her, he faced
her with his hands on his hips.

“What is all of this about de Troiu?”
he asked.

Her smile faded and her stomach
twisted. She clasped her hands as she formed her answer.

“He came around right after ye left
for Northwood,” she said. “Honest, William, I was simply looking for someone to
talk to because I was so lonely with ye gone and Analiese’s new friends are a
gaggle of silly chickens. He would come up and sit with me for hours in the
antechamber, talking to me while I did needlework or sewing for the twins.
‘Twas truly all there was to it.”

“Were you alone with him when he
came to visit?” he asked.

“Aye,” she lowered her gaze guiltily,
“but I dinna think anything of it until Analiese told me of the rumors.”

“What did Analiese tell you?” he
asked patiently.

“That the castle was talking about
the de Troiu and I, saying that we were…more than friends,” she felt sick
spitting out the words. “She said that de Troiu was doing nothing to stop the rumors,
but was encouraging them by telling people that he would have me. When she told
me that, I had to write ye.”

He paced thoughtfully for a moment
and it scared the hell out of her. She had seen that look once before, before
he smashed Alexander’s door in. She wondered if he were going to smash
her
in.

“Did he ever touch you?” he asked.

“Nay, never,” her eyes narrowed,
incensed at the question. “I wunna let him, English. Ye know me better than
that.”

He put up his hand. “I know,” he
said quickly. “I simply meant if he had he ever tried to touch you, or made unwanted
advances.”

“Nay,” she replied, still miffed.
Did he trust her or didn’t he?

He looked at her for several long
moments, studying her lovely face. She gazed back with a mixture of uncertainty
and defiance, wondering what he was thinking.

“English, do ye think that I was
deliberately sinful with the earl?” she asked, peeved. “Do ye think for one
moment that I could be unfaithful to ye?”