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Opening the door, she began to carefully pace the room, her amber eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary. Everything looked quite normal. She threw open the doors of the huge wardrobe and ruffled through the dresses and dug through the accessories that lined the bottom.
Kieran was leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed and his expression amused. “Well?”
She didn’t answer him at first. Then, she pulled back and looked thoughtfully at the items in front of her. “A traveling satchel is missing.”
Kieran shrugged. “So?”
Jemma didn’t respond. Instead, she went to the bed and tore off the covers. He watched her curiously in her increasingly serious quest. He, however, was becoming quite bored with it all and was about to suggest she give it up when she suddenly dropped to her knees and ducked her head under the bed.
“Kieran!” she yelled, and he was immediately on his knees beside her, looking under the bed. “Look. Her bag and a cloak shoved over there, by the head of the bed.”
She straightened quickly, still on her knees, looking at him with astonishment. He looked at her with mounting confusion. Kieran wasn’t naturally suspicious unless he had a good reason, and it appeared as if he might have just that.
“She is going to leave,” Jemma said, jumping to her feet.
Kieran went around the bed and withdrew the cloak and bag. He opened the bag with Jemma peering over his shoulder and was disturbed by what he discovered. With a heavy sigh, he replaced the bag and cloak and turned to Jemma.
“Not a word, Jemma,” he said. “At least not until I speak with William. Mayhap he knows what is in her mind.”
“Why wunna she mention this to me?” Jemma wondered aloud. “Was she going to leave me here while she returned to Langton?”
He shook his head and didn’t want her speculating, ’twould simply make her upset. “I do not know, sweetheart,” he said. “Do not worry yourself over it just now. Let me see what William has to say.”
Neither one of them knew of the incident with the earl early that morn. Jemma had been fast asleep in the other room and had heard nothing. Michael had not mentioned anything unusual, and William had come and gone before she had even awoke.
It never even occurred to her that she would be running away with William, or why. She was deathly afraid Jordan had had enough of the English treaty and was determined to go home.
*
The morning feast was just that; a feast. The mouthwatering smells of roast venison and beef filled the air and the guests and family were merrily enjoying the second formal meal in as many days. Wine and ale flowed freely.
Jordan sat at the earl’s right, but the man had not spoken nor even acknowledged her during the entire meal. She felt sick with embarrassment and shame, but looked forward to her future with William. Keeping that thought foremost in her mind helped her deal with the earl’s presence.
Would the earl even care enough to retaliate against her family? And what of the king? The man was in York and was expected on the morrow. Would he avenge a broken treaty? She had to trust that William had thought these matters through, and that he was certain that her family would suffer no ill effects. She hoped he was right.
Far to her left, Jemma entered the hall with Kieran. Jordan felt confident that whatever turmoil she and William left in their wake, Kieran would not let it reflect badly on Jemma. She trusted that the English knight would take good care of her cousin.
William wasn’t sitting at the dais. Instead, he was seated with the visiting captains and knights directly off to her right, sitting by a man who was quite striking. The man kept glancing in her direction, giving her a devastating smile, then laughing when she looked away primly. She decided that he was a rogue and she hoped William would slug him for being so flirtatious with her.
Someone sat next to her. She glanced up to see Analiese seating herself formally, accepting a cup from a servant with practiced arrogance.
“Good morn,” she said to Jordan.
Jordan was shocked that Analiese actually extended the first greeting. “Good morn, Analiese. Are ye feeling well today?”
Analiese nodded curtly. “Better that I was feeling yesterday.”
“I know what ye mean,” Jordan admitted ruefully. “I will never drink that much wine again.”
“Nor will I. Remind me of that fact at your wedding should I appear to be getting out of hand.”
Her manner was stiff but Jordan was delighted at her attempted conversation. She thought that mayhap Analiese wasn’t just an arrogant bitch because that was her nature; mayhap it was all she had ever been shown and had reacted accordingly. Treated kindly, she responded well.
“I would ask the same of ye,” Jordan said. “But at least ye dunna look as if ye were feeling poorly not a few hours ago.”
Analiese dropped her gaze and looked into her cup. “Thank you,” she said. Then she paused. “Not simply for the compliment but for everything, Jordan. I hope… I hope that we can be friends one day.”
Jordan raised her eyebrows. “Someday? Why not today?”