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“Damnation, ’tis hot,” Deinwald sputtered behind them.

“Get used to it,” Jemma remarked, “for ye’ll be spending eternity in flames.”

Jordan grinned as Deinwald turned to Jemma, gearing up for another volley of insults. Lord knows, he had missed the abuse dreadfully when he had been in London. He always felt better when there was someone to fight with.

“Is that so?” he fired back. “In that case, I shall save you a spot right next to me, for I will not be alone.”

Jemma straightened in mock outrage. “How dare ye insinuate that I am damned to hell!” she snapped. “I am a mother, Deinwald Ellsrod, and incapable of evil.”

“I did not insinuate anything,” Deinwald insisted, waiting until she backed down before hissing ‘Banshee.’”

“Dunna call me that!” she shot back, turning to her husband. She pointed at Deinwald imperiously. “Kieran, hurt him.”

Kieran laughed behind his lowered faceplate. “And deprive you of the joy of doing it yourself? Never.”

Jordan giggled and she felt William’s arm tighten around her. Sighing with content, she noticed Paris silently riding to their right. Usually, he jumped in if there were any insults to be dealt to Jemma, but he was unusually quiet. She twisted around to face William and lifted up his visor.

“What is wrong with Paris?” she whispered.

He raised his brows. “I do not know. Why?”

She didn’t reply, instead, passing another glance at Paris thoughtfully. Then, her face took on a sly expression.

“My goodness, Caladora has never been this far south,” she said loudly. “I wonder if she is enjoying her trip in the back of a wagon. Lord knows, I find things much more interesting from the back of a horse with someone to answer my questions.”

William looked at her as if she were mad, and she shot him expressions demanding he go along with her. But he didn’t have the slighted idea what she meant. Exasperated, she turned to Paris.

“Paris, would ye mind too terribly if Callie rode with ye?” she asked sweetly. “I am sure she is terribly lonely with Jemma and I riding so far from her, and it would be wonderful if she could ride with us.”

Paris turned his helmeted head toward her but she could not see his face. She wondered for a split second if he were going to deny her.

“ ’Twould be my pleasure, my lady,” he said after a moment. When he was gone, returning to the wagons, Jordan smiled triumphantly at William.

“What was that all about?” he demanded softly.

“He likes her,” she said confidently.

William cocked a brow. “Paris likes anything in a skirt.”

“I didna mean it that way,” she scowled at him. “Dinna ye see the way he looked at her when he first saw her? Mark my words, English, He will marry her.”

“What?” he half yelled in outrage and she shushed him harshly. “Jordan, your pregnancy is affecting your brain. Paris marry? Never!” he chuckled. Then he chuckled again. Then, he burst out laughing and she angrily turned around in the saddle, crossing her arms stiffly across her chest.

“Just ye wait, William de Wolfe,” she sniffed. “I am never wrong.”

He continued to snort and chortle. “I am sorry, love, I really am. But in this case you are wrong, mark my words. Paris will never marry, even though your cousin is very lovely.”

Jordan cocked her eyebrow at him, still peeved at his snorting. “He will, too, and it will be Callie. So ye think her lovely, do ye?”

“Aye, verily,” William agreed. “She is a beauty.”

Jordan was suddenly jealous of her own cousin. So her husband thought she was pretty, did he? Well, of course she was, but she didn’t want to hear that from him just yet, not when her rounded tummy was becoming rounder and she was feeling more unattractive by the day. And what if, perchance, William had met Caladora first? Would he be married to her cousin now instead of her? She was daft with a humored sort of pregnancy-induced jealousy.

Andrew d’Vant rode up at that moment, with his helmet off and his gorgeous auburn hair catching the bright sunlight and sending off a myriad of highlights. It was the first Jordan had seen of the mercenary soldier, and he was extremely attractive. After William had briefly explained the situation, Jordan was expecting a man by the nickname of the Red Fury to look like some wild red-headed monster. He was anything but.

As the Red Fury rode up beside her and William, her husband introduced them and Jordan saw an opportunity to punish William for his comments about Caladora.

“ ’Tis a pleasure to meet ye, Sir Andrew,” she said as sweetly and as flirtatiously as she could. “I dinna expect to find such a dashing knight riding to my husband’s aid.”