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D’Vant stuck his head in through the door. “My lords?” he said timidly. He had heard the entire exchange and the ensuing scuffle. “ ’Twas my indiscretion to allow the baron entrance. I thought he would wisely retreat when he saw….”
William turned around. “And you were wise in your judgment, Roan. ’Twas good that you allowed him to hang himself.”
Roan looked surprised. “But you are to fight the baron, my lord. That was never my goal when I let the man pass.”
“But it was my goal the moment I received the missive from my wife telling me of the earl’s improprieties,” William was calm enough to put his arm around Jordan’s waist. “Come in here, d’Vant, and join us as we finish our meal.”
Deeply honored and a bit puzzled, Roan closed the door behind him and quickly found himself getting acquainted with Northwood’s knights.
William was a bit embarrassed at his loss of control and was eager to put the incident behind him. But Jordan sat next to him, her eyes wide with fear, and he found it difficult to move ahead. He finally resorted to patting her hand gently and encouraging her to eat, hoping to take her mind off the subject. She obeyed his request, although the food was tasteless and she thought she might get sick, but for William’s sake she put up a brave front.
Jordan was terrified. He would be fighting a duel for her honor, for their honor, and she was sick at heart. Yet it was not out of fear for him, for she knew he was the best knight in the realm and he could easily best de Troiu, but out of the fact that the earl would be the third man William would have had to punish because of her. First there had been the boy who had thrown the rock, then there was Earl Corvalis’ son, and now de Troiu. She didn’t like being responsible for these actions.
It was past midnight and Jordan was just drifting off to sleep after feeding the twins when there was a sharp rap at the door, William was already awake and, with sword in hand, demanded to know who it was.
The door flew open in reply and Henry himself stood in the archway, his distinguished face grim.
“Get up, William,” he ordered in a low voice. “I would speak with you.”
Fear surged through Jordan; Henry was angry and she was terrified for William. The man could make or break a life with the flick of a hand and she wondered wildly if the king had come here to order her husband to the Tower. There was no telling what de Troiu had told the king, and she knew he was the reason why the monarch stood in her bedchamber.
William rose calmly and dressed in soft leather breeches, a white tunic and his heavy black boots. He didn’t even bother to strap on his sword. Jordan watched him, wide-eyed, as he exited the room behind the king. It took her a moment to realize that he hadn’t said one word to her.
She jumped from the bed and threw on a robe, rushing out into the antechamber. It was cold and dark and quiet. Her panic was rising as she went to the front apartment door and threw it open. Roan’s piercing blue eyes met her.
“Where did they go?” she demanded breathlessly.
“The king and William retreated down the hall, my lady,” he replied. “I do not know where they have gone.”
She was starting to shake. “Sir Roan, where are the other knights?”
“Northwood’s knights are housed in the royal knight’s quarters.”
Her breath coming hard and fast, she fixed Roan in the eye. “Get me Sir Paris and Sir Kieran. Now.”
She slammed the door before he could reply.
When Kieran and Paris arrived nearly a half hour later, Jordan was pacing back and forth in the antechamber nearly out of her mind with worry. When they came in, she ran to Paris.
“The king took him!” she gasped. “He ordered William out of bed and demanded to speak with him. He’s going to punish him, I know it.”
Paris grasped her arms and guided her toward the nearest chair. “Calm down, Jordan,” he said evenly. “You are all worked up. Now, tell me; just what is Henry supposed to punish William for?”
She looked at him as if he were daft. “For challenging de Troiu,” she said, throwing up her hands. “Daniel must have run right to the king and God only knows what he told him. Oh, Paris, something horrible is going to happen.”
“Nothing horrible is going to happen,” Paris insisted softly before turning to Kieran. “Why don’t you see where they have gone and see if you can be of any assistance to William, eh?” He punctuated the last word with a lift of his blond brows.
Kieran knew what he meant, to wait outside the door and be prepared to defend William however required. He nodded shortly and left the room.
“The king was so angry, Paris,” she went on. “He simply barged into our bedchamber with barely a knock. Oh, God, will he banish him to the Tower?”
“For what?” Paris repeated. “Jordan, William has done nothing to warrant punishment. Now you are getting yourself upset for no reason. Kieran will find out what is going on, and until such time as he returns, why do not you go back to bed.”
“No!” she snapped.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Aye, you will. I will wait here and wake you the moment Kieran, or William, returns. I promise.”
Her mouth pursed stubbornly. “I am staying right here. I canna sleep.”
