Page 135

“He did what?” He realized someone’s voice was breaking. It was his.

She was gasping. “He put his fingers where only ye have touched me, English. It was horrible.”

William felt the blood draining from his face. “Then he knows that you are no virgin.”

“He asked me who had taken me, and when.”

She was quaking violently in his grip and he realized that he was shaking, too. “What did you tell him?”

Her eyes were wide on him, fearful of his reaction. “I told him that no one had taken me, that I had been riding horses since I was a bairn, astride as men do. Sometimes that accounts for the lack of virginal evidence even though the woman hasna known a man.

“Then you lied to him.”

“Nay, English, I dinna.” She was calming somewhat, hiccupping and sniffling. “I remembered what ye had said to me once that if the earl asked questions that he would have to be most specific in order to gain an answer. Ye never took me; ye made love to me. He dinna ask me that. And the rest about riding horses was no lie, either, so I told him no true falsehoods.”

“A minor point, Jordan,” he replied softly, his anger draining away and being replaced by cold apprehension.

The earl was no fool; if he had heard the rumors then he suspected who was to blame. Already, Jordan might be in a greater danger than she realized, and that thought panicked him. His natural instincts to protect her were surging wildly.

“Are ye angry with me?” Jordan asked, noticing he had become distant.

He ran his fingers lightly over her face. “Nay, love. You did what you had to. Now I must do the same.”

“What do ye mean?” she asked.

He looked at her. He really looked at her. The decision he came to was so rapid that he scarce had time to review it before he was speaking.

“We are leaving.”

“What?” Her tears were gone, replaced by stunned surprise.

“We’re going to London, tonight,” he said. “From there we can arrange passage to France. I have relatives in Normandy who will welcome us.”

All of her pain and anxiety flew out the window. She was filled with amazement, hoping beyond hope that he was serious. “But what about all of those things ye told me?” she wanted to know. “Ye told me that men would die if we were to run away together. What about…?”

He cut her off. “If I am to weigh men’s lives against yours, then I will choose you every time,” he said, looking somewhat contrite. “Forgive me for not putting you first above all. Forgive me for my pretty words that now have no meaning.”

Jordan stared at him. “There is nothing to forgive,” she murmured. “Truly? We will leave England?”

“Aye,” he was rising from the bed and retrieving his clothes.

There was a great urgency in his voice. “There is no time to waste. Pack a small satchel for yourself with only the things you need.” He was pulling on his breeches but fixed her with a hard gaze. “Tell no one, Jordan, especially not Jemma. No one must know our plans. Do you understand me, love?”

“Aye,” she nodded, then her lips spread into a slow smile. “Oh, English, ye really are serious, aren’t ye? But what about yer life here at Northwood? Yer reputation? Yer station? Will ye throw that all away?”

He fastened his breeches and hastily pulled on his tunic. “You are my life, and to hell with my reputation and station. It means nothing without you.”

She had grown calm. She trusted him implicitly and leaned on his every word, as if God himself had spoken it.

This was what she wanted, what she had hoped for. No England, no Scotland, no king and no earl. Just the two of them, starting a new life in France. It was almost too fantastic to believe, but believe it she did, with all of her heart. The prospect itself was thrilling, frightening, and overwhelmingly wonderful.

“Then I shall be ready for ye,” she said quietly.

He pulled on his boots and began to quickly put on his armor. Jordan rose from the bed and helped him with the leg protection until he was once again in full regalia. He paused a moment in his great rush, glancing down at the beautiful armor and running a hand over it.

“ ’Tis the last time I will wear this,” he murmured with a hint of regret.

Jordan watched him touch it, the reverence his fingers held for it, and her eyes began to well again. He glanced up and saw the liquid pools about to spill over.