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His tone was calm but left absolutely no room for disobedience. Both Jordan and her father sensed it. Thomas pulled his daughter into his arms, squeezing the breath from her. Hot tears stung his eyes.

“Jordi-girl, I miss ye already,” he whispered. “I love ye, lass. Always remember that, no matter what.”

Tears welled in Jordan’s eyes. “I love ye, too, Dada,” she said softly. “Come see me. Soon, please?”

Thomas pulled back. “I will, I promise.” He turned his hostile eyes to William. “Take good care of her, Wolf. She is the reason we willna be meeting on the battlefield anymore.”

William’s visor was up, but he did not return the hostile look. “I am well aware of that, Laird Scott,” he replied. “And whether or not it means anything to you, I have pledged to protect your daughter with my life. She will be safe, I assure you.”

Thomas did not want to outright insult the English captain, especially when he held Jordan’s life in his hands, so he gave a curt nod before giving his daughter a nudge in the knight’s direction.

Reluctantly, she turned to William. When she saw those hazel eyes again, peering at her though the upturned visor, all of the shock and astonishment she felt earlier seemed to creep up anew. Her mouth went dry and she ran a pink tongue over her full lower lip.

“Very well, sir knight, I am ready,” she informed him with a firm voice.

William reached down and picked her up, setting her easily atop his massive horse. Without a word, he vaulted up behind her and heard her grunt as his armor bumped into her soft body. Putting a thick arm around her waist, he dug his heels into his horse and was gone from the bailey with the other two knights close behind.

The last glimpse Jordan had of her beloved castle was the huge gates whisking past, and then they were out into the countryside. She knew, at that moment, that her life would never again be the same.

CHAPTER FIVE

Not a word was said between them.

Since the moment Jordan mounted the charger, she had kept as still and as quiet as she could, not even so much as turning her head to look about her. She decided the best course was to be silent and allow the captain to begin any and all conversations. Terrified, she concentrated on keeping her head down and her eyes averted.

When they had joined the main body of the army, she discovered there were six more knights in addition to the three that were riding with her. Nine massive, deadly English knights. Jordan had never been more frightened in her entire life, and even though she could not see their faces, she knew they were watching her intently. Head lowered and hair hanging down to cover her face, she wished for invisibility. Or at least she hoped they would ignore her. She was terrified that if someone spoke to her, she would faint dead away.

They rode south at a rather leisurely pace until the sun was high above before stopping to rest. Jordan knew it was for her benefit and was very grateful. Her back was killing her from sitting so stiffly against the captain and her bottom was already sore. When he lifted her down from the horse, her legs almost gave way from sheer disuse.

Some men began to break out bread and jerky, but she wasn’t hungry. Instead, she wandered aimlessly to a small stream, making doubly sure to keep away from the bulk of the English soldiers who seemed to be eyeing her with unsavory flare. The way they stared at her made her skin crawl. She didn’t even know where the captain had gone, and she felt very alone. Self-pity was growing.

The water was icy and refreshing and she ran a finger in it absently, her mind far back at Langton. She wondered what her family was doing at this moment; were they glad to be rid of her? She wondered if they were laughing and celebrating happily to be rid of the squeamish girl with no taste for battle. She pouted and slapped at the water, feeling lonesome and sad and disoriented. But in the back of her mind, she knew that all of her worries about her family were foolish; they loved her and were terribly sad she was gone. So was she.

Above, birds twittered loudly in the trees. She glanced up and saw a nest, knowing the birds were angry to have the intrusion of humans. She clucked up at them and spoke soothing words, not noticing until it was too late that there was a very large body next to her.

“Would you like some wine?” It was the captain.

She went rigid. “Nay, thank ye.”

He sat the bladder down and pulled off his gauntlets; he was already helmetless. Kneeling, which was no easy feat in a suit of armor, he splashed cold water on his face and shook his head, pelting her with droplets. She tried not to look at him, her stomach quivering with nerves.

“Lady Jordan Scott, named for the River Jordan,” he repeated her own words, spoken long ago. “I never thought to see you again.”

So he did remember. She felt a jolt of surprise and another jolt of fear. Mayhap he remembered the slip-shod job she did in repair of his wound. Mayhap he also remembered the merciless pain of the whisky burn. She wondered with rising panic if he were going to drown her in the creek as punishment, although she knew her thoughts were daft. She was daft.

Yet…she had noticed he did not limp. Mayhap her half-hearted repair was blessed by God and the leg had recovered properly. Forcing herself to calm, there was only one way to find out.

“Yer leg healed?”

He slapped the scarred thigh. “Good as new, thanks to you,” he replied, then looked her fully in the face. She returned his stare openly and he smiled at the astonishment he saw in her eyes. “I did not think it possible, but you have actually grown more beautiful since the last I saw you.”

A faint blush crept into her cheeks and she choked on a swallow. “ ’Twas dark that night, sir knight. ’Twas difficult to see much at all.”

“I could see you,” he insisted softly. “Have you been well?”

She nodded curtly, her only answer. She found herself looking away from his consuming gaze, staring down at the bubbling water.

“I was surprised to see ye,” she said after a moment. “Yer wound was so terrible I was sure ye were to die from it.”