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“She might as well be.” Malcolm had no idea of the mortal danger he was in. He looked William right in the eye. “Think on it, man; she’s traveling, unchaperoned with a full company of English soldiers. Why Uncle Thomas dinna insist she take my mother or my aunt is beyond me. He trusts ye, I suppose, but I know better. How many men have had her since she left Langton?”

William snapped. Before Paris, or anyone else, could make a move, he had Malcolm by the neck with one hand and plowed the knuckles of his other into his face. Blood spurted everywhere, all over his tunic, all over the floor. Malcolm dropped in a limp heap to the ground.

“Goddamn bastard,” William muttered, stumbling back from the limp body. “Loyal to his kin… my arse he’s loyal. Get him the hell out of here before I lose myself again and do some real damage.”

Paris glanced down at Malcolm as Ranulf and Corin hoisted him up. “Where will we keep him?” he asked. “We are not prepared for prisoners.”

William thought a moment. He had no further need for the other two men, and any more interrogation sessions with Malcolm were sure to result in the man’s murder. He just wanted them the hell away from him, and from Jordan. He did not want to kill him, even if the idiot had held a knife to Jordan’s throat.

Then it hit him. He wasn’t going to kill him because Jordan had asked him not to. He was thinking up dozens of reasons to justify not killing the man when it really came back to one. She had asked him not to and he would bow to her wish. God, he was so damn feeble-minded when it came to her.

“Then take them back down the road,” he said gruffly. “Tie the four of them to the same tree and leave them to the mercy of whoever passes by. Considering an army has just passed this road, that should take quite a while.”

Paris smiled, knowing well what William was referring to. People avoided traveling on roads where armies had recently passed because where armies crossed there was generally trouble.

“It shall be done,” Paris said, bowing and pretending to follow the other knights to the tent flap. But when they were out, he stopped and pulled the flap down.

Paris turned to his lord, his best friend. He took a deep breath and went over to him. William eyed his solicitous knight suspiciously.

“What now?” he asked.

Paris looked at him. “William, I do not pretend to know what is going on in your mind, but I do know that you must control your outbursts where Jordan is concerned. I have never seen you like this.”

William licked his lips and dropped his gaze, kicking at the ground. “I thought I was in control.”

“You are, to the untrained eye,” Paris amended quickly. “But I know you. And so does de Longley.”

William’s head came up, his hazel-gold eyes focusing on Paris’ blue ones. Finally, William shook his head slowly and let out a snort.

“I was doing nothing out of the ordinary, Paris,” he said. “Malcolm slandered Lady Jordan and I was simply defending her honor. Nothing more. Had de Longley been here, you know he would have demanded that I do the same.”

“Do not hand me that nonsense and expect me to digest it,” Paris said in a low voice. “Think about who you are talking to, William. We have had this conversation once or twice before and you have all but admitted your desire for Jordan. You can lie to yourself, but do not lie to me. You never have before.”

William swung to face him. “What is it you want from me, Paris?” he demanded in a pleading tone. “Why is it so important for me to admit….whatever it is you want me to admit? Why does this concern you?”

Paris’ jaw ticked. “Because if there is a storm coming, I want to be prepared.”

William understood then. If he was going to do anything that would jeopardize his life and the life of Jordan, Paris wanted to know. And that act would entail one simple step; an admission to Jordan of his feelings and an admission to him from her. But that would never happen. He shook his head after a moment.

“There will be no storm,” he muttered. “She is de Longley’s bride. I would never do or say anything that would compromise her.”

“But you care for her,” Paris stated.

William looked at him a moment. “I would be lying if I said otherwise.”

Paris was satisfied. Now that he had an admission, it would be easier to deal with things as they came. William felt better, too. Without actually saying anything, he had admitted a great deal. He felt guilty and free at the same time.

“She will never know, Paris,” he said softly. “No matter what. Do you understand me?”

“I will take the information with me to my grave,” Paris replied. “You know that she feels as you do.”

William’s heart skipped a beat. “Why do you say that?”

Paris smiled. “I have been watching her,” he said simply but would not elaborate. He turned to leave. “Now I had better go make sure that the knights tie those men to a tree and are not burning them at the stake or some other sort of rot.”

He was gone, leaving William feeling absolutely bewildered.

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