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William was trying to control himself as he stepped into the room, kicking a piece of wood away. His gaze was focused entirely on his wife.
“Would you mind telling me what you are doing?” he asked her.
She blinked at him, opened her mouth to speak, and then started giggling. Jemma joined in, and it was no time before they were giggling like a couple of fools. William lost his patience.
“Jordan!” he snapped.
She jumped, her laughter gone when she slapped her hand over her mouth in a silly gesture.
“Shhh,” she admonished him. “Dunna yell, English. There is no need.”
In that short answer he knew everything he needed to know. She was drunk. Calming with amazing speed, he crossed his arms and looked reprovingly at her.
“What have you been drinking?” he asked.
She looked at him innocently, trying to cross her legs casually but seemed to be having difficulty. She looked down at them, wondering why they were refusing to work. “Drinking what?” she asked.
William looked at Kieran and they gave each other knowing glances. “That’s what I asked you, love. What have you been drinking?”
She shook her head and found herself falling forward off the table while Jemma screamed with laughter.
“Nothing much, English,” she insisted when he reached out to grab her before she collided with the floor. “The earl has a special reserve.”
William gazed over at Adam and saw that the young lord was drunk as well. Reaching over, he took the bottle from the young man’s hand and sniffed it.
“Good God,” he yanked his nose away in disgust. “Whisky.”
Jemma began to bounce around like a rabbit possessed. “Whisky, whisky, whisky,” she sang over and over.
Kieran rolled his eyes and went to his wife. “Stop that,” he said sternly. “Come with me. The party is over.”
She balked. “Nay! I dunna want to leave.”
He pulled on her and she screamed and tried to yank free, dancing about. Having had enough of her refusal, Kieran let go of her hand long enough to bend down and throw her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. She screamed and beat on his broad back, hitting armor with her little fists.
“Kieran, do you remember a couple of years ago at the engagement party of de Longley and Jordan?” William asked him. “Do you remember how drunk your wife was and we had to remove her?”
“Aye, I do,” Kieran said flatly, looking over at Adam. “She never did tell me where she got the whisky.”
William nodded with a wry twist of his lips. “We know now, do we not?” He looked at his wife. “What in the world possessed you to do this? You know how sick you will become on the morrow.”
She pouted. “Because ye told me no more wine,” she said. “Adam heard ye and he offered Jemma and me a drink from his private cock.”
William choked on the guffaw bubbling up, clearing his throat instead. “You mean private stock,” he muttered. “I take it, then, that you came in here to drink it where I would not see you?”
“Aye,” she nodded solemnly. “I disobeyed ye and I am sorry.”
He shook his head and picked her up. “Not nearly as sorry as you are going to be.”
Adam watched them go, feeling more alone than he ever had in his life. His parents were dead, he had killed his brother, and his sister was in London. He was alone.
Even his knights had families. Deeply, he wished that Jordan had indeed been married to his father. Newly widowed, he would have married her the next day. He’d always had a soft spot for the beautiful Scot, but there was no way he could compete against The Wolf. He would not even want to try, but it didn’t stop him from wishing for what could have been.
Mournfully, he took another drink and wondered if he drank enough if he would forget his sadness.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
Jordan’s first view of Questing were of three thick turrets rising above the trees. At first glance they looked to be rather small, but that was until the caravan broke free of the woods and she realized that the castle was still a way off. She furthermore realized that the structure was absolutely massive to have been so clearly seen at such a distance.
