Carefully, she put it back into the saddlebags on the right.
But a few more things were scattered, not the least of which were letters or documents that had been bound up with leather strips. They’d come loose and were strewn over the floor. Jordan collected each one, including one that had gone underneath the bed. As she picked that one up, the wax seal on it fell off and she lost her grip on it trying to catch the seal.
Putting the other documents she’d collected in a neat stack, she picked up the one that had been dropped twice. In fact, it was completely open on the floor and although she wasn’t the nosy kind, nor did she care about Herringthorpe’s business, she had to physically look at the document in order to pick it up. As she looked at it, she caught a name she recognized in the fold.
Willaume de Wolfe.
That gave her pause.
Jordan knew she shouldn’t read it, but her husband’s name, in traditional Norman spelling, was clearly written. What in the world would War Herringthorpe be doing with a letter mentioning William de Wolfe? Curiosity had the better of her.
Nay, not curiosity…concern.
Jordan read the letter.
Mother of God…she wished she hadn’t.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Where have youbeen?” William asked. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Jordan was in the chamber they shared, high above the bailey of Castle Questing. In fact, their chamber had windows that faced the bailey and the north, so she knew exactly when the army had arrived. When William found her, she was sitting in the window seat of one of those windows, gazing off into the night.
Her husband’s words didn’t change that.
“And so ye’ve found me,” she said.
Dirty and exhausted, William stepped into the chamber. “What are you doing here?” he said. “We returned twenty minutes ago and I’ve got several wounded that need attention.”
“I’ll get tae them in due time,” Jordan said steadily. “Is Jemma in the hall?”
“Aye,” William answered.
“Then they are well tended for now.”
Puzzled by his wife’s behavior, William stepped further into the chamber. “What’s wrong with you? Are you ill?”
Jordan drew in a long, pensive breath. “I’m not ill,” she said. “I’ve simply been… thinking.”
“What about?”
Jordan looked up at the sky. It seemed unusually clear tonight. “Did ye know a lass named Jane?”
William had been in the process of irritably removing his hauberk but his wife’s question brought him pause. It was an extremely odd question about something, or someone, quite specific and he wondered why.
He proceeded carefully.
“Jane?” he repeated. “Is there a family name?”
“I’m sure there is, but I dunna know it,” Jordan said. “She is related to Herringthorpe.”
That brought a measure of shock to William. “Jane Herringthorpe is War’s mother,” he said evenly. “I knew her long ago as Jane de Percy. Is that the Jane you mean?”
“I suppose it is,” Jordan said. “How well did ye know her?”
William shrugged. “Well enough,” he said. “De Longley and her father were allies while I served de Longley. Why do you ask? What is this about?”
Jordan leaned back against the cold stone wall. “Did ye know she bore ye a son?”
