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William and Jordan grinned at the little man. “Too late, Byron,” William said. “My son would not wait for you.”

Byron peered at the infant. “Looks healthy enough,” he observed. “Who delivered him? Not that one, I hope.” He tilted his head in Paris’ direction.

Paris smirked. “Nay, Oh Great Devil’s Apprentice. I simply assisted and the baron did the rest.”

Byron, used to Paris’ jibes, ignored the man and settled himself between Jordan’s legs. “Well, the mother tore a bit, but other than that she appears all right.” His eyes found William’s for the first time and he cracked an ancient smile. “Good work, baron.”

William smiled weakly, feeling incredibly tired all of a sudden but yet at the same time, not sleepy in the least. He kissed his wife’s forehead, loving her more than words could express. She did as she promised, and gave him a third son.

William celebrated for the rest of night the birth of Patrick John Thomas de Wolfe.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

One week later and two weeks overdue, Jemma delivered a huge, healthy baby boy after fourteen of the longest hours in Kieran’s life.

Alec Matthew Jeffrey Hage was christened, along with his cousin Patrick, in the small chapel of Northwood, cradled in their fathers’ arms and surrounded by a host of male relatives and non-relatives. Caladora was nearly the only female in attendance, standing in for both mothers, who were still confined to bed.

Time passed quickly and the children thrived. Within six weeks, Jordan had regained her figure and her vigor, and she took total delight in taking care of her sons herself. Except for the wet nurse, she insisted on doing everything by herself, as if trying to make up for the time she was unable to do anything at all. William tried to reason with her but she was determined, and with resignation he allowed it. He feared she would tire herself out, but she appeared to be limitless.

One bright April morning, Jordan and Jemma took the children out for a walk around the compound. The weather was beginning to warm and turn heavenly and they could all use a dose of sunshine. Jordan held Patrick, his dark little head peeking out from beneath the blankets and clutched Scott with her other hand. Jemma held Alec in one arm and gripped Troy with her free hand as Mary Alys tagged along behind. The sun was glorious and Jordan’s spirits were good, for it was the first time she had been out for months and her body was fairly aching for air and sunlight.

She and Jemma talked and talked as the twins screamed and pulled, trying to break away while Mary Alys tried to calm them down. With all of the noise and movement, kids screaming and babies yelling, Jordan had never been happier.

They rounded the corner into the outer bailey, planning to head towards the practice field to see if they could find their husbands, who had been missing all morning. Almost immediately they ran into Ranulf, who took pity on them and clutched a twin in each big hand. Troy didn’t want to leave his Aunt Jemma and fought the whole way, while Scott didn’t want anyone to hold his hand and took to going limp as a rag. Ranulf seemed to remember the lad’s mother using a similar tactic and talked softly to the boy until he stood on his own feet. At fourteen months of age, they were already brilliant little terrors.

There were several men on the field, sweating under the newly warm sun, but neither William nor Kieran were there. They saw Deinwald and Michael working with the new knights, but they were the only men they recognized.

Puzzled, Jordan turned to Ranulf. “Where did my husband go?”

“He, Kieran, Paris and Roan rode out early, my lady,” he told her. “I know not where they went.”

Jemma shrugged. “Probably to Questing.”

Jordan agreed. “William canna stay away from that place. The sooner we move there, the better. At least I shall be able to see him once in a while.”

Ranulf bit his tongue. When they moved there, so would the children, and he was becoming quite attached to the little devils. In fact, he feared the life would go right out of Northwood once William and his entourage left. He was sorely tempted to go with them.

Caladora came up behind them, her pretty face glowing, Jordan and Jemma smiled broadly in response.

“Callie.” Jordan exclaimed. “Where have ye been? We went looking for ye earlier but ye werena in yer room.”

Caladora shrugged. “Oh, I have been around.” She bent over Patrick. “Give him to me, Jordi. I havena held him since yesterday.”

Jordan handed over her son, her hands free of children for the first time in a week. She almost didn’t know what to do with herself until Troy cried and she picked him up. At that same moment, Scott pulled free of Ranulf and the knight went running after the lad. She smiled, watching the big man trying to corral the little blond-headed tot, trying not to make him scream.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her shoulder and she felt a wet, scratchy kiss to her cheek. “Good morn, Jordi,” her father said.

“Hello, Da,” she answered as her father took Troy from her arms. Troy loved his grandsire tremendously.

“How was yer visit with yer cousin, Callie?” Thomas asked as he pretended to bite Troy’s fingers. “Did the twins keep ye awake?”

Caladora froze, her eyes wide as she looked between her uncle and Jordan. “Nay, Uncle Thomas,” she said. “They… they are angels. We all slept through the night just fine.”

She said it rather strained, looking at Jordan with wide eyes, silently begging her to go along with the story. Jordan could see that something was up and she would not give her cousin away. Thomas was very protective of the unmarried Caladora and kept a sharp eye on her. Evidently, the woman had lied to him about where she had been the night before.

“Callie was very helpful, Da,” she said, dying to know where her cousin had been although she could guess. She took Troy from her father’s arms. “Da, would ye like to take the twins to the lake? They like to throw rocks in the water.”

Thomas was happy to take the fidgeting twins on a walkabout. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jordan and Jemma turned to Caladora.