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Her throat was tight with tears. “Then ye dunna love me enough to take me away?”

He looked at her. “I love you enough to do all that and more. But at what cost? Men’s lives against our selfish desires? I am not sure I can reconcile that.” He sighed heavily. “Nay, love, unless you are in mortal danger, I fear I cannot simply take you away from here, at least not now. Too many would suffer.”

Jordan understood even if she didn’t like the answer. He was strong, noble and virtuous… and she was not. She fought back her sobs.

“Then tell me one thing, English, and I shall never ask it of ye again,” she whispered. “Will I ever become Lady de Wolfe?”

His chest was being squeezed so hard he could scarce draw a breath. He looked deeply into her eyes, his hand helplessly touching her head. “Aye,” he whispered. “De Longley cannot live forever. On the day he dies, you will be my wife. I swear it.”

She was satisfied with that and it gave her an immense boost of strength. With that knowledge, she would be brave enough to face whatever the future held because she knew he meant it. The simple answer to the not-so-simple question would be her rock.

Somewhere a cock crowed. He turned from her and hurriedly donned his tunic and boots. Then he bent to kiss her and promised again he would see her at dusk. Quickly, he quit the room, leaving Jordan sitting on the bed, dreaming of that day when she would indeed become Lady de Wolfe.

*

They began arriving shortly after the sun rose. Jordan had finally drifted off to sleep when she heard the trumpets on the wall heralding an approaching caravan of guests. She rose sleepily to see what the commotion was and was instantly awake at the sight of a group of richly garbed riders.

Excitement and apprehension surged through her. The women, riding beautifully decorated palfreys, were clad in the latest fashion from London. Jordan watched with great interest, realizing that, although her surcoats were lovely, they were not anywhere as stylish as the ones the women wore.

A strange obsession settled over her. With all of the other worries she had, the one foremost on her mind was the fact that she did not have a trendy surcoat. Wrapping herself in her blue satin robe, she tore into the antechamber.

Jemma, seated in front of the loom, looked up and smiled broadly.

“So yer up, slug-a-bed?” she announced. “ ’Tis about time, although from what I heard, ye should not be walking so easily.”

Jordan froze and stared, agape, at her cousin. “What on earth do ye mean?” she stammered.

Jemma, still smiling like the cat who swallowed the mouse, rose and went to her. “I mean exactly that I heard ye last night, and I heard the captain, too. I’d say ye welcomed him home quite nicely.”

Jordan didn’t know whether to slap her or grin with her. Since there was obviously no use in denying it, she took the direct approach.

“Did anyone else hear?” she asked.

Jemma shrugged. “Paris, probably, since he was the one guarding the door. But that was all. I dunna think Maggie and Elspeth heard anything, but even if they did, they wunna tell.”

Jordan let out a hissing sigh. “I dinna realize we were so loud,” she said lamely. “Tell me, Jemma. Who knows about…William and me?”

“Ye mean ‘English’?” she teased boldly, laughing when her cousin threatened to throttle her. “Me, Paris, the other knights. But that is all. They have done very well at controlling the rumors.”

Jordan blanched. “What rumors?”

“The rumors that the captain is in love with ye,” Jemma said patiently. “I told ye of them once before, remember? Kieran says that whenever someone brings up the subject, the knights are swift and painful to deter any more gossip.”

Jordan swallowed hard, miserable. “Jemma, we must not let the rumors reach the earl. There is no saying what the man would do to William…or to me.”

Jemma sobered for the first time. “I know,” she said. “But trust me when I say the knights are loyal to William. And to you.”

“Good,” Jordan nodded, knowing it was true but appreciating Jemma’s confirmation.

Jemma watched her cousin a moment. “Tell me, Jordi. Do ye love him or do ye simply lust for his beautiful body?”

Jordan looked at her. “I love him, Jemma. With all my heart.”

Jemma smiled again and the two woman shared a private, meaningful hug. Then Jordan’s mind shifted with amazing speed to the reason she had entered the room in the first place.

“Jemma.” she exclaimed. “My guests are arriving. And I dunna have a proper dress for tonight.”

Jemma sneered. “What are you saying?” she demanded. “Yer dresses are beautiful and….”