Page 40

With the tent suddenly silent, William smiled but there was no humor to it. Kieran had to turn his head; he was close to collapsing with laughter.

“Much better,” he said calmly. “Now, Lady Jordan, am I to understand that this is a relative of yours?”

Jordan nodded and he removed his hand from her mouth.

“Aye,” her eyes were splitting daggers. “She is my cousin, Jemma Scott. She said she was going to follow me, but I dinna believe her to be serious.”

“Hmm,” William glanced at Jemma. She was small and darkly pretty, but not nearly the beauty her cousin was. He looked more sternly at her. “We were attacked today, lass. What do you know of it?”

Jemma’s face went blank with surprise. Then she scowled, angry again. “I know nothing.”

William handed off Jordan to Kieran, his stare sending shivers of fear down Jemma’s spine. She was terrified of this man, but she tried desperately to maintain her level of fury for all to see. Now was not the time for cowardice.

William was nearly standing on top of her, his eyes cold and glittering. “You are a liar.”

“Nay, I am not,” Jemma protested loudly. “I will tell ye that I did hear the army, but I was trying to stay close to ye by hugging the trees and hiding in the grass in the fields. I am no spy.”

“I did not say you were,” his voice was gritty. “I called you a liar. You called yourself a spy.”

“I am not a spy.” In spite of her anger, she was close to tears. This man scared the hell out of her and twisted her words.

Jordan’s heart was in her throat, terrified that William was going to decapitate her cousin as an enemy.

“Sir knight,” she said in a soft, controlled voice. “She is telling the truth. Jemma is no spy. She is disobedient, willful, and stubborn, but she is no spy. I swear to ye on my mother’s grave.”

He knew that. But, in case Jemma did know something about the attack on his army today, he wanted to find out and intimidation could be a wonderful tool. To his surprise, she was holding her own rather well. Hell, Jordan looked more frightened than she did.

He slowly moved away from Jemma, his hands on his hips and his head lowered thoughtfully.

“Lady Jemma, what do you have to say in your defense before I pass judgment?” he asked.

“Pass judgment?” Jordan paled. “What do ye mean?”

Jemma was in no mood to plead her case. Now that he believed she was not a spy, she was mad because he had called her a liar.

“I have nothing to say to ye,” she snarled. “I came to serve my cousin, not answer to ye.”

Paris fought off a grin. “Ye have a lot to learn,” he mimicked her burr perfectly.

Kieran could not take it anymore; the man was long gone into convulsions of laughter. Jemma and Jordan, however, were outraged and unleashed a barrage of insults at Paris.

“Paris.” William warned him, then turned back to the women. “Ladies, enough already. God, my head is pounding from all of this shouting. Everyone… shut up.”

Paris could see Kieran doubling over and was nearly lost himself. Jemma and Jordan looked to kill each other as well as the men, and William tried hard not to look at his knights. He would surely lose control should giggles overtake him. He continued to fight to maintain his calm facade.

“Now,” he continued calmly. “Lady Jemma, if in fact you are not a spy, I see no reason why you should not be allowed to accompany your cousin. However, I will brook no disobedience from you. You will take orders and obey them as everyone else and there will be no argument. If I so much as catch wind that you have raised your voice, I will truss you up like a goat on a spit and have one of my knights take you back to Langton. Do you understand me?”

Jemma looked to be properly put in her place. She wanted to scream that she would never take orders from an Englishman, but her common sense won out and she wisely kept her mouth shut. If she wanted to go with Jordan, then she had to tame her tongue. A most difficult task.

“Aye,” she grumbled. “I understand.”

“Good,” William responded. “Paris, since you found her, you may see to her safety. Now everybody get out of here so that Lady Jordan may get some sleep.”

Paris’ mouth went slack. Letting go of Jemma, he moved to William. “A word, my lord?”

William had not yet agreed when Paris was all but dragging him over to the far side of the tent.

“You intend to saddle me with that…that she-devil?” Paris hissed.