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They all looked at him as he waited expectantly for someone to agree to go with him, yet no one wanted to.

Abner let out a blustery sigh. “Then I shall go, too. Ye hold off The Wolf and I shall slit yer cousin’s throat. Tate, Dougal, come with us.”

Malcolm looked as if he wanted to argue about Jordan’s fate, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want her killed, but sacrifices would have to be made. The man that Abner ordered to attend as well looked about as happy as he felt.

“Come on, then,” he said after a moment. “Send the others back. We’ll finish the job.”

The party split up; four men returning to the safety of the keep and four men descending into The Wolf’s lair. ’Twas not an appealing prospect for the latter.

*

William was not angry with Jordan. He was positively livid.

He was also exceedingly weary. His hair was wet with perspiration and his face was unshaven and grimy. He still wore all of his battle armor, save his helmet, and he had a big gash on his neck. Still, he continued to bark orders and involve himself in every operation, all the while keeping Jordan seated in the center of his tent. Even with his anger, Jordan felt safe with him. Outside the tent, with all of those battle-weary English soldiers, was definitely not the place she wanted to be.

After an eternity of orders, conferences, and the like, the tent was finally vacant save she and William. He still had not looked at her. Moving to a jug of wine, he poured himself a healthy amount and drank the whole thing in two swallows.

“Our enemy wore Scott tartan,” he remarked.

The sound of his voice made her jump; it was laced with venom. “I know,” she replied. “But they were not Scott men. I would have recognized them.”

He turned to her, scrutinizing her. “How many men does your father carry?”

“Near six hundred,” she replied.

“And you would recognize each and every one of them?” he countered sharply.

“Aye,” she was not ruffled. She had expected the interrogation. “Dunna forget, sir knight, that I tend my father’s wounded soldiers. There are none that I have not seen, because my father does not take on new men-at-arms unless they be relatives of the men already in service.”

He poured more wine. She cleared her throat. “They wore the tartan incorrectly, as well,” she went on. “My father’s soldiers are always impeccably dressed. These men were sloppy. And another thing, I think, the most important thing, was that McKenna tartan was mixed in. We are not allied with the McKenna.”

He glanced up. “I saw the McKenna. But you have fought with the McKenna before, Jordan. I know.”

“Aye,” she confirmed. “But my Da ended that association several months back. He doesna like Dunbar McKenna.”

William took a smaller drink of wine and turned around to face her, she thought, pondering her information.

“So you are telling me that this army was not your father’s?” he asked forcefully.

She shook her head vigorously. “Aye, ’twas not,” she said. “My father is a man of his word, English. He wouldna have done this.”

He thought on that for several minutes. She could see his jaw ticking even though the rest of him was as still as stone. She was beginning to think that the questioning might be over, and it had gone much better than she had ever hoped. But she was very wrong.

With the initial questions out of the way, William could focus on the real problem bothering him. He had done a very good job of keeping his anger in check, but every time he thought of the danger she had put herself in, he got hot all over again. He had to admit to himself that it wasn’t so much that she had disobeyed him, but the fact he had been so bloody terrified for her safety. Every time he thought of how close she came to being injured, or worse, it fed his rage. He prayed to God to give him the control he would need to get through this.

“I told you to ride to Northwood,” William said finally.

She shook her head. “Nay, ye dinna. Ye told Sir Jason to ride to Northwood,” she replied. “Ye dinna tell me anything.”

His hazel-gold eyes glared at her Jordan matched his gaze, trying not to be intimidated by him. Swearing under his breath, he turned away from her. He was becoming more infuriated by the second.

“Do not you realize the danger you were in?” he suddenly exploded.

She startled at his booming voice. She’d never even heard the man raise his voice much less boom. She began to shake.

“I had to see if it was Scotts ye were fighting. ’Twas worth the risk,” she answered.

He whirled around to her. “Worth the risk?” he repeated incredulously. “Damnation, Jordan, you deliberately disobeyed me. We were fighting to buy you and Jason enough time to reach safety, and instead, you returned to the middle of it. It was stupid.”