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Jordan stared back at him a moment before rolling her eyes miserably. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “I think I am going to be ill.”

“Nay, you are not,” Kieran said firmly yet gently, taking her arm. “You are going to be fine and bring a great deal of pride to your countrymen.”

Jordan didn’t know why she should listen to him, but she did. His wisdom and his tone went beyond mere superficial words. He had that air about him that he meant what he said. She liked Kieran; she always had ever since the first night they met, and she was glad that he and Jemma were coming together.

“When are they expecting me?” she asked, forcing herself to calm.

“The earl has taken them into the grand hall for refreshments and they will be expecting you shortly,” he replied.

She nodded. “Where is my husband?”

“He is with them,” Michael said, standing next to Kieran. “In fact, the king has latched onto William like a leech and has refused to let him out of his sight, m-much to William’s annoyance.”

Jordan smiled at that mental picture. “Canna exactly be rude to the king now, can he? Then I believe I can forgive him for not coming to retrieve me himself.”

The knights returned her smile, relieved she was regaining her composure. Jemma thrust herself forward, grabbing Kieran’s arm possessively.

“Stop smiling at him like that, Jordi,” she sniffed good-naturedly. “Ye’re married already.”

Jordan grinned at her cousin and threw her arms around Kieran’s massive arm, pressing herself against him.

“That may be, but I still appreciate a fine man.” She looked into Kieran’s surprised face. “What say you, sir knight? Would ye have married me had ye not met Jemma and had William never existed? Well?”

He actually blushed at her jest. But Jemma pushed herself closer to Kieran, putting her arms around his torso and scowling at her cousin.

“Leave him be,” she ordered. “He’s one man ye canna take away from me.”

Jordan’s eyebrows shot up. “I have never taken any man away from ye.”

Jemma lay her head on Kieran’s chest. “Mayhap not literally, but all the men look at ye and never me. Ye’re too pretty, Jordi, and I have told ye that. So leave Kieran alone; you have the captain.”

Jordan smiled faintly and shook her head, thinking her cousin’s statements ridiculous. “Ye’re so beautiful and ye dunna even realize it.”

“I realize it,” Kieran said softly.

Jordan gave the man a radiant smile, glad he was backing her up on the matter. Michael shook his head at the entire conversation.

“I hate to interrupt, m-my delectable stud stallion,” he said to Kieran drolly. “But we should be going. They will be expecting Lady Jordan.”

Kieran gave Jemma a final squeeze. “Aye, they will. We should be off.”

They all moved for the door, including Jemma, until Kieran stopped her. “Just Jordan, sweetheart.”

She stuck out her lip. “But canna I even go and watch from the shadows? Please?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Nay, I am sorry. ’Twould be the king and queen you would be spying on.”

“I wouldna be spying,” she insisted. “Oh, please, let me come and watch.”

“Not now, Jemma,” Jordan told her cousin. “Ye’ll see them tonight at the feast.”

Jemma eyed both her cousin and Kieran before sulking over to the high back chair and plopping her small body on it. She didn’t say a word and Kieran was afraid he had mightily upset her.

“Tonight, Jemma. All right?” he said, trying to pacify her.

She lifted her chin and looked away from him, pouting. He started to go to her but Jordan put out her hand.

“Leave her be, Kieran,” she said softly, then looked over at her cousin and raised her voice. “Acting like a bairn, she is. ’Tis not unusual.”