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“State your business,” he said coldly.

The first man, a dark-haired young lad, returned the cold stare. “First ye will do me the courtesy of tell me with whom I am speaking.”

As William’s eyes became accustomed to the dimness of the room, he realized the men were wearing Scott tartan. He was a little more at ease than he had been but a moment before, but he was more curious than ever.

“I am Captain de Wolfe,” he replied. “Who are you?”

The young man’s eyes widened slightly when he discovered who he was talking to, but he held himself well. “My name is Cord Scott, nephew of Laird Scott. He has sent me here with a missive for the Earl of Teviot.”

William knew better than to ask for the message or to demand to see it. He would simply take the man on his word. With a faint nod he indicated the door.

“Come with me,” he said, then jabbed a finger at the other man when he rose to follow. “He stays.”

Cord complied, waving the other man down. “That ’tis just – my brother, Ian,” he said as if that made any difference.

William didn’t answer. Leaving Paris with the other Scot, he took Cord into the fortress, leading him to the earl’s solar.

Sending a guard to retrieve the earl, he leaned back against the wall to study the individual more closely from where the man could not see him. They waited in complete silence. William was mildly impressed to see that Cord appeared neither fidgety nor nervous, even though he knew William was staring down his back.

The closer he scrutinized him, the more familiar the fine dark features looked to him. His cold stare washed with a thoughtful expression.

“Is Jemma your sister?” he asked.

Cord jerked his head around to look at him. “What do ye know of Jemma?”

William could see a great deal of venomous suspicion and wondered why. “Then she is related to you?”

Cord shot to his feet. “Tell me what ye know of Jemma, ye bastard, or I shall take off yer hide.”

William wasn’t offended. He could see from the temper that the man was her brother. It occurred to him that when Jemma had been discovered following them, she was in disguise, and knowing her as he had come to, she probably did not think to tell anyone her plans. For all her family knew, she had been kidnapped, and most likely by the same English army that had taken Jordan. He was cognizant of the man’s distrust for him.

“I know that she is here, at Northwood, whether or not we want her,” William said evenly. “See here, lad, we did not kidnap her. She followed us, as she said in her own words, so she could serve her cousin. But what she has done and what her intentions were are two different things entirely.”

Cord drew a long breath. “She is here? With Jordan?”

“Aye,” William replied.

He stared at William a moment before regaining his seat. He sat as if contemplating the explanation given before finally releasing a pent-up chuckle. “The little magpie,” he muttered. “Always had a brain duller than a hammer.”

William nodded. “I see we are speaking of the same woman.”

Cord looked up at him then chuckled again. “I never did believe she was kidnapped. Ye English were never actually close enough to the fortress to get in. I figured she had to have of slipped out, or some other sort of nonsense. She was terrified of Jordan leaving her, ye know. She can’t live without the woman. I take it she is well, then?”

“She is,” William answered.

Cord nodded. “And making a bloody nuisance of herself, I see?”

William grinned wryly. “We are used to her now.”

Cord nodded again. “Me mam will be glad to hear that her only daughter isna dead or left by the English hounds after they had their fill of her.”

“I assure you, she is quite safe,” William told him.

As he pondered Jemma’s brother, William thought of the missive the man carried and wondered if after it was read, if such a thing as safety would still be possible. True, he was planning to take Jordan with him regardless, but Jemma would still remain at Northwood and at the mercy of the earl. Unless, of course, Kieran and Jemma accompanied them to France. Several thoughts raced through his head, but he said nothing.

The earl came into the solar, eyeing the Scot thoroughly when he stood. “What is this all about?”

“Are ye Lord de Longley?” Cord asked, not a waver in his voice.