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“You little bitch,” she snarled. “How dare you insult me!”
“Sit down,” her father commanded. “ ’Twas you who started the insults, daughter, and you will take heed what you call the future countess or the next transgression against you will be my hand to your backside.”
Analiese promptly sat, seething hatred at Jordan. Jordan was the image of congeniality in return.
The earl tried not to let the exchange dampen his presentation. “And this fine young lad is my youngest son, Adam, newly return from fostering at Beverley Castle.”
Adam de Longley was a beautiful, well-mannered boy. He was tall and lithely muscular with a crown of gorgeous golden-red hair and big, droopy blue eyes. He stood and bowed gallantly to Jordan, and she instantly liked him.
The earl was obviously very proud of the boy. He simply beamed at him. “I have not seen my youngest since he was eight, and here he is all grown before me,” he said. “He has completed his knight training at Beverley but wished to come home to serve his father. His knighting ceremony will be in a few days.”
Jordan smiled at the soon-to-be knight. “Ye must be very proud of him, sire,” she said. “Who will officiate the knighting ceremony?”
“Adam asked that William preside over the service and induct him into the brotherhood,” the earl replied. “Quite an honor for my captain.”
Jordan knew women were banned from such ceremonies, but she wished she could watch as William initiated the boy.
“Indeed it is,” she glanced at William. “But isna it traditional for the knight’s teacher to receive him into the knighthood? Such as his instructor at Beverley?”
“Usually, my lady,” William answered for the earl. “But Adam requested that I conduct the ceremony because of his desire to serve Northwood, not Beverley. The captain of Beverley, being a personal friend of mine, agreed.”
“You have knowledge of knighthood, Lady Jordan?” It was Alexander, speaking in his high-pitched and effeminate voice. “How is it that you have come to know the intricacies? Did, mayhap, a knight teach you? Or did you hear him when he talked in his sleep?”
A deeply insulting remark that was met with dead silence. Alexander settled back in his chair with a satisfied smirk, not really expecting an answer. Analiese leaned over to him and whispered something into his ear, causing them both to chuckle.
Jordan felt as if she wanted to burst into hot, angry tears but she controlled herself. She would give the bastard no indication of just how deeply he had hurt her. She did not see William’s vein throbbing in his temple or the clench of his jaw, nor did she see the flush in Paris’ neck. She saw only the trencher and the food that cooled in it, trying desperately to prepare an answer that did not reveal her feelings.
“How would ye know what knights say in their sleep?” God help them all, it was Jemma. She was standing up so as to better see who she was about to insult. “Unless, of course, ye speak from personal experience. Since ye arna a knight yerself, can I assume ye’re married to one?”
Jordan swore she heard a collective groan go up between William and Paris. She snapped her head in Jemma’s direction to shoot her a quelling look and was preparing a fast apology even as Alexander sat bolt-upright in his chair.
“Who is this… this creature?” he demanded in outrage.
The earl could see the explosion coming and put his arms out as if to embrace everyone at the table to calm them. Analiese shot out of her chair and began screeching insults in Jemma’s direction, though Jordan did not hear one word she said. She was quickly slipping into misery with the fact that their first meal together was not going at all well.
“Everyone, sit, please,” the earl ordered evenly. “Let us sit and conduct this evening civilly.”
“Sire, this is my cousin and lady-in-waiting, Jemma Scott,” Jordan said rapidly. “She has had a busy day of it and is feeling quite fatigued, hence her unruly tongue. I will excuse her now to prepare my chamber, if it pleases ye.”
“She will not leave until I have thrashed her within an inch of her worthless life.” Analiese exclaimed loudly.
“Ha!” Jemma was livid. “Ye pasty-faced English wench, I’d like to see ye try and lay a hand on me.”
Control was slipping away rapidly. Jordan did not know what to do with her cousin and future step-daughter raging out of control. If she thought slapping them both would restore calm, then she would have gladly done so. But as she was struggling for a solution, she remembered who sat at her right.
“William…?” she turned pleadingly to him, putting her hand on his arm. “Please…?”
He was between great anger and great amusement, waiting with growing impatience for the earl to demand him into action. He heard her call his name, saw the look in her eyes, and decided to wait no longer. As he was rising, the earl jabbed a finger at him.
“William, take that woman to the cellar until she can learn manners. I will not have her publicly insulting my flesh,” he said, then turned his attention to his elder son and daughter. “If you two cannot be civilized to Lady Jordan, then you will take all meals in your room until you can learn how to behave. I will hear no more of this. Is that understood?”
Alexander barely nodded. Analiese put her hands on her slim hips.
“Is that all you are going to do to her?” she demanded. “I want her flogged.”
Jordan gasped and she knew she had gone pale. After what she had seen this afternoon she knew the earl to be a harshly decisive man. Terror filled her.
“Sire,” she said as calmly as she could. “Lady Jemma is not the disrespectful sort. She is simply overwrought with fatigue and I beg my lord to be merciful with her. I would consider it a great, great favor.”
