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She gestured at her legs, her buttocks, and finally her breast area. It was all she could do, ashamed. Instead of raging, as she expected, William cooled. But that was merely a facade for her sake; inside, he was mad enough to kill. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to storm out and murder Jason. Damn that boy. He had always known him to be wild and irresponsible, but he never believed him to be a molester.

He dropped his hands from her. “When did this happen?” he asked almost casually.

Because he was calm, she calmed. “When ye put me in Sir Jason’s charge.”

“And he took liberties with you?” he asked.

She nodded a little sheepishly. “His hands were everywhere,” she said. “He only stopped when I stole his horse.”

A flash of incredulousness touched William’s face. “How did you manage that?” he asked. “When I left, you were both aboard his destrier.”

She sighed, ashamed at her rapscallion behavior. “I pretended to drop my handkerchief. When he bent over to pick it up, I kicked him in the arse and rode away as he tried to get up.”

William stared at her a moment before she saw a strange gleam in his eye. He tried to fight off a smile but he wasn’t doing a very good job. Before he realized it, he was laughing uproariously.

Jordan watched him curiously. She’d never seen him laugh and she was torn between wanting to join in and wondering if he was laughing because he was so angry at her. She decided wisely not to join in, although his laughter was infectious.

Paris entered the tent, thoroughly perplexed. His eyes met Jordan’s wide ones for a brief puzzling moment before he focused on William.

“My lord is hysterical,” he said, eyeing William critically. “Shall I send you to live with the loons?”

William wiped tears from his eyes. “Not at the moment,” he replied. “Lady Jordan has an…amusing story.”

Hesitantly, Jordan repeated what she had told William, leaving out the part where Jason touched her in places that he should not have. Paris, too, burst out laughing.

But William eventually sobered, his hazel-gold eyes riveted to Jordan as if he suddenly remembered what he had been so angry about. She felt her anxiety creep upon her again as William then turned to Paris.

“Where is Jason?” he rumbled.

Paris wondered why he was suddenly so serious. “Outside, I believe, supervising the posts. Why?”

William didn’t answer him, instead, grabbing Jordan by the hand and pulling her with him. She tripped and yelped, and he stopped yanking long enough to frown at her.

She looked up at him like a frightened doe. He continued on, perhaps not so rough, until they had exited the tent flap with Paris in tow. Once outside the tent, he emitted a piercing whistle from between his teeth and his squire came on the run. Snapping orders, the boy ran to do his bidding and returned shortly with Jason in tow. It was obvious Jason had no idea what lay in store for him. William’s face was unreadable.

Jordan watched the situation unfold apprehensively. She wondered what more he was going to say to Jason and wondered miserably why he insisted she listen. She did not care anymore; she simply wanted to go to bed. This whole affair had upset her terribly and her stomach ached.

But William didn’t utter a word. Instead, he lashed out with a huge fist and caught Jason dead center in the face. The lad literally flew backwards and crashed to the wet earth with a dull thud, compounded with a grunt of pain.

Jordan gasped in shock, her hands flying to her mouth as if she hadn’t meant to cry out. She continued to stare in disbelief as Jason rolled on the ground, his hands on his face and blood streaming from between his fingers.

William was like ice as he stared down at his struggling knight. “Consider that your lesson for touching Lord de Longley’s bride,” he said. “If I hear of any more transgressions, there will be more than your blood on the ground.”

He whirled on his heel, leaving Jason in anguish as Paris unemotionally jerked the lad to his feet.

“Luke!” William bellowed.

The squire was by his side, his eyes wide with astonishment at what his captain had done. “My lord?” the lad squeaked.

William was all business. “Gather Lady Jordan’s necessities and put them in my tent,” he ordered, suddenly calm. “Put water on to boil for her bath.”

“But, my lord, we carry no tub with us.” Luke whined.

“I know, but we have pots big enough to hold her,” he responded. “See to it, lad, and be quick about it.”

Luke dashed off. William turned to Jordan. He had calmed with dizzying speed, although Jordan was still breathless from his actions. Their eyes locked for a moment.

“There was no need for that action, sir knight,” she said quietly.