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Aloria looked at her, wondering why in the world she felt like confiding in this woman, this Scot. She had always been so good at covering up her emotions, at evading them, but now she felt like spilling them all out to this gentle woman. And she still had no idea why.

“Not cruel, not really,” she said softly. “You see, I am a bastard, the result of a liaison between my mother, the Countess of Devon, and the earl’s chief steward. Yet the earl publicly accepted me as his child, fed me and kept a roof over my head, yet he could not stand the sight of me so when I was five years old, I was sent away to foster. I have been fostering ever since.”

Jordan’s jaw dropped in sympathy. Jemma, too, was misty with pity.

“Aloria, how terrible for ye,” Jemma exclaimed softly. “Have ye never had a true home, then?”

This woman speaking was certainly not the she-devil Aloria had run into earlier. She was speaking and acting gently, like her cousin. What was it about these two women that made her feel suddenly comfortable, suddenly as if her words mattered? She didn’t know, only knowing that these two Scots weren’t like any English she had ever met. She found herself telling them things she had never voiced to anyone.

“Not really,” Aloria shrugged. “Not until I came to serve the queen at my mother’s request, but even then I didn’t truly fit in. I am not the very model of a true court lady.”

“Why not?” Jordan demanded. “You are pretty, and well-groomed, and knowledgeable.”

Aloria gave her mistress a weak smile. “But I am not tiny and fragile like the rest of them, like the both of you,” she replied. “True ladies are tiny little things that men like to take care of. No one wants to take care of me.”

Jordan and Jemma looked at each other as if the thought had never before occurred to them. And Jemma began to feel exceeding guilty about the name-calling earlier.

“Aloria, I dinna mean it when I called ye a cow,” Jemma said sheepishly. “Everybody looks like a cow to me because I am so short.”

Aloria actually smiled at Jemma. “I started it, my lady, by calling you a bug. And I do apologize for that.”

Jemma grinned back and waved her off. “I have been called worse,” she pointed at Jordan. “By her, no less.”

Aloria gave a little laugh as Jordan nodded vehemently. Then her new mistress fixed her with a pleasant gaze.

“You’ll fit here, Aloria,” Jordan assured her softly. “I promise ye will.”

Aloria did not even dare to hope but she nodded. “If I survive,” she said, half in jest. “The knights look as if they want to kill me, especially the captain.”

Jordan cocked a confident eyebrow and sat back in her chair. “Let me tell ye a little secret about the knights of Northwood, Aloria. A little honey and they will be eating out of yer hand.”

Aloria looked puzzled and ashamed. “I do not know if I would know how. Men usually stay away from me.”

“Not anymore,” Jordan replied. “If you are with me, then they’ll be near you. Just do what I do.”

Aloria gave a timid little giggle. “I can but try, my lady. But will it work with the captain?”

“Nay.” Jemma exclaimed vehemently. “Nothing works with that man. Ye’ll simply have to bow and scrape at his feet if ye want him to even be civil to ye.”

Jordan glanced at her cousin as she talked about her husband. Was William really so cold to other women? She had not ever noticed because of the attention he gave her. Or was Jemma exaggerating again, she wondered.

But Aloria took Jemma for her word. “Then I shall be as respectful as possible to him,” she passed a glance at Jordan. “Providing he does as he is asked.”

Jordan almost smiled, remembering the angry words between Aloria and William. She knew William would most certainly not do as he was asked, and Aloria would not back down. It would prove to be an interesting test of wills.

The women sat for quite a while with companionable conversation, feeling infinitely more comfortable with each other. Jemma and Aloria seemed to have completely forgotten about the bad start they’d had and for that, Jordan was glad. She didn’t want to play the mediator for the rest of her days.

They discovered that Aloria was actually very humorous in a droll sort of way and Jordan was coming to like her. Her initial rigid manner had all been superficial, to please the queen and the earl, but in private she had loosened tremendously. Her misgivings of the court woman had vanished.

By mid-afternoon, there was a harsh rap at the door. Aloria rose and opened it to find Kieran and Deinwald standing in the opening. Kieran looked right at her.

“You, woman,” he said coldly. “Come with me.”

Jordan had never heard Kieran use that tone and she stood up. “Why?”

“Orders from the earl, my lady.” His tone was instantly gentle again as he addressed her.

“What orders, Kieran?” Jordan stepped forward as if to protect Aloria from the men.