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“Where is that monstrous creature?” she whispered to Analiese.

Analiese gazed inconspicuously over her left shoulder. “About ten feet behind you, as she should be. She is a big one.”

Jordan gave Analiese’s arm a squeeze as a servant filled her trencher with mutton and spiced new apples. “God help me,” she murmured as she tried to eat.

As worried as she was about Lady Aloria, her biggest concern was her husband. She could not even look at William. She felt as if she had fibbed to him somehow, when honestly, she never thought to tell him that she had been betrothed as an infant. To be truthful, the subject had never crossed her mind to tell him, but this was not an ideal circumstance for him to find out. She knew he would be furious with her and she didn’t blame him. She simply wanted to get this meal over with and retreat to her chambers.

Her wish came shortly. The king and queen were tired and wished to rest before the festivities began, graciously dismissing their vassals as the earl and Alexander led them from the hall. Amazingly, William wasn’t required by the king, and when Jordan realized that, she was panicked enough to return to their chambers to escape his wrath.

A servant led Aloria away, and Analiese had vanished; leaving Jordan walking alone as quickly as she could from the hall without running.

She wasn’t fast enough. William caught up with her just outside the hall and without a word, grasped her arm and led her down a corridor and into a small solar. He waited until he closed the door softly before even looking at her.

She tried to read his expression, but she could not. He looked as controlled and neutral as always and she was scared to death.

“You look lovely,” he said after a moment.

“Thank ye,” she replied. “I couldna decide what to wear and I am glad ye like it.”

He nodded faintly. “Indeed,” he said, pacing a few feet across the floor. “That was quite a revelation you dropped before the king. Not even I was aware of it, and I thought I knew nearly everything about you. You are, after all, my wife. Why is it that I never knew you were betrothed to another man?”

Jordan swallowed. “I never thought to tell ye, English. It was never of any importance to me.”

He looked at her and she saw his gaze hardened. “It is of great importance to me. Who is this man that would have married you?”

“I was betrothed to him when I was three years old,” she said quietly, calmly, hoping he would understand. “His name was Ian McCulloch and his father was Laird Galloway. I only met him four times in my entire life; the last being one week before he was killed by the English near Melrose. That’s all there is to it; I never knew him, nor loved him. I only love ye.”

William was silent a moment. “The last time you saw him…how old were you?”

“Sixteen,” she answered.

“And you felt nothing for him?”

Her eyes narrowed with puzzlement. “Nay, English, I told ye that I dunna even know if I liked him at all because he was a big brute with an arrogant disposition.”

William leaned his large frame against the wall, crossing his arms. His movements were slow, and thoughtful. His anger was abating with her straightforward answers, although he was still perturbed that she had never mentioned this ‘little’ detail. If he were honest with himself, he realized that he wasn’t angry as much as he was insanely jealous.

“Very well,” he said. “Then tell me this, wife, is there anything else you wish to tell me that you feel ‘unimportant,’ yet that I might find out otherwise?”

She was glad he wasn’t too angry, but she was annoyed that he was insinuating that she was keeping secrets. She pursed her lips wryly. “Oh, let me see,” she said with exaggeratedly and thoughtfully. “Have I told ye that I was once the kept woman of King Alexander and bore him twelve bastards? Or, better yet, have I told ye that I have kissed every man south of Edinburgh and there isna one of them who dunna live for the sound of my voice? And I intend to conquer England the same way.”

She was rewarded with a faint twitch of his lips and he pushed himself off the wall, moving to within an inch of her. With a soft, seductive gaze that took her breath away, he spoke. “You have already conquered me.”

She smiled and threw her arms around his neck, her lips latching onto his. She did not have to wait to feel his muscular arms around her, or his lips responding to her. She laughed softly with triumph.

“What does the king want of ye, English?” she breathed as his lips paid exquisite attention to her soft neck.

“The man is acting like a smitten boy,” he replied, his breath hot on her skin. “It would seem that he has become most impressed with my reputation and demands war stories from me.”

She was melting to him, forgetting about the king and the queen and her nerves. He was making her tingle with passion and desire and she knew she had to have him now, here, at this moment.

Her hands moved to the latches on his armor. “Take this damnable stuff off,” she demanded huskily.

“I cannot,” he insisted, yet still suckling on her skin. “I am required in the outer bailey.”

Undaunted, she unfastened a latch. “I require ye now, English, and I am more important.”

She expected an argument, but instead he began to unfasten his armor himself. In no time it was off, except for his greaves. Jordan’s passion was building with every breath. They were so consumed with each other that nothing else in the world mattered at this very moment but their need for one another.