The Faithful Heart (27 page)

“I’m not interested.” Jack turned his head
towards the wall. And yet if he could get his hands on it, if he
could hand it over to pay Derbyshire’s portion of the king’s ransom
not only would his position be safe, Crispin’s would be too.

“How can you not be interested in power?” She
reached him, sliding her hands up his arms to his shoulders. “How
could you not want to live a life of luxury? Especially considering
where you come from. You could crush them all, you know. Everyone
who ever laughed at you, put you down. Everyone who turned up their
nose at you and thought you were lesser. Every lover who rejected
you.”

He glanced back at her, eyebrow raised. “Is
that what this is all about?”

“Oh yes!” her eyes flashed. “Think of how
that would feel, Lord John. Revenge. Think of how it would feel to
have the ones who cast you off begging for the scraps from your
table.”

“Not sure I like the idea of anyone begging
for anything.”

“Jack,” she pressed herself against him. He
ground his teeth to keep from shouting at the pain her rubbing
caused. “I have so much to teach you.”

“I doubt that,” he growled.

She sighed and tried to lean in for a kiss.
He jerked his head to the side. She responded by laughing.

“I see you need more convincing,” she hummed,
sliding back. She unclasped the bracelet and tossed it into the
closest strongbox. “Look at it, Jack. All this could be yours. Join
forces with me, marry me and share your title and power with me,
and you can have all this and more.” She traced her fingers along
the neckline of her gown as if she was a treasure he could have as
well. “The outlaws in this forest work for me now. Think of how
much more they could bring in.”

If his hands had been free he would have
crossed his arms and looked bored. Instead he merely stared at
her.

She quirked an eyebrow, pressing her lips
together and gliding forward again. “I have something else I want
to show you.”

She grabbed the rope tying his hands and lead
him out of the treasure tent. The skies had darkened, the rain
intensified, drumming against the canvas village like a hundred
drums rolling. A small crowd had gathered outside in spite of the
rain. They kept their distance, eying the guards with suspicion. He
doubted they knew what the tent held. When he straightened after
coming through the flap the forest folk rose as well, straining to
see him. Too many of them had tattered clothes, eyes filled with
hunger in spite of the wealth only feet away from them. Simon’s
words rolled back through his mind again. Think of all the things
you could do for them.

“I understand your hesitance to give your
heart away,” Lydia talked as she yanked him down one path and up
another. “It’s so hard to find love in this world. It’s even harder
to be faithful to that love once you find it, isn’t it.” She spoke
as though she were a sister sharing sage advice. “Don’t get me
wrong, it’s sweet of you to fancy yourself in love with that
spiky-haired snippet.” He scowled straight ahead. “But you know you
want more than she knows how to give. You can try to deny it, but I
know firsthand how virile you can be, Jack. I saw how you looked at
those little harlots who were watching you earlier.” She finished
the sentence as if she’d swallowed a sour bug. “Do you really think
a former nun can keep up with your needs? I bet she’s never shared
a bed with a man in her life. Then again….”

He clenched his jaw and stared straight
ahead, trying not to hear her. She was driving at something.

They slowed at the beginning of a row of
particularly beat-up tents. A single guard stood in the middle of
the path, arms crossed in front of him. Jack narrowed his eyes and
studied the shelters. There was nothing out of the ordinary about
them. There weren’t even forest people hanging around the edges
watching them. The whole area was silent and deserted.

“I don’t really care if you’re faithful to
me,” Lydia told him in a low murmur, leaning close. “I certainly
don’t intend to be faithful to you. But I have the feeling you
still value that silly old so-called virtue, don’t you?
Faithfulness?”

He turned to stare at her, face as blank as
he could make it. His back itched with more than just fresh scrapes
and older bruises. She was baiting him. He knew it. His pulse
pounded as if he’d run all morning.

She twisted to the guards following behind
them. “Give me your dagger.”

One of the men took a blade from his belt and
handed it over to her. She turned and sawed through the ropes
binding Jack’s hands. As the ropes fell away Jack rubbed his
wrists, wincing, debating whether it would be worth the beating he
was sure to get if he tried to strangle her.

“Go on,” she gestured towards one of the
tents. “Go test your faith in fidelity.”

He had a bad feeling he knew just what he
would find as he approached the simple tent. Lydia wouldn’t have
been grinning the way she was if she hadn’t found Madeline. He
closed his eyes as he reached for the tent flap, praying she wasn’t
dead. He could handle anything as long as Lydia hadn’t caught her
and killed her. Holding his breath he opened the flap and stepped
inside.

For a terrifying moment he thought his worst
fears were realized. She was there, lying still, tucked against
Tom’s side, her eyes closed. His gut wrenched in despair for half a
second before her chest rose gently and fell again. She was asleep.
He closed his eyes and let out a ragged breath. Madeline was
alive.

He opened his eyes. She was alive and lying
in the arms of his brother. A sharp flash of fury spiked through
him. He swallowed it, biting the inside of his lip to keep from
shouting. They looked so cozy together, so peaceful.

Tom stirred. His eyes rolled open as he took
in a breath. He saw Jack and flinched. His mouth opened but before
he could say anything Jack shook his head, raising a finger to his
lips. Tom jolted, about to speak, but Jack shook his head harder,
eyes blazing, holding out a hand for him to stop. He jerked his
chin over his shoulder to the tent flap.

Madeline twitched awake at Tom’s movements.
She blinked around in confusion and when she saw Jack she gasped.
“J-”

Jack lunged for her, clapping a hand over her
mouth. She shuddered, her eyes huge with fear. It took him a moment
to realize her fear was caused by the ferocity in his eyes.

“It’s not what you think,” Tom whispered,
barely audible.

Jack turned to him. “I know,” he nodded. He
glanced back to Madeline. “I know.” Slowly he pulled his hands away
from her. “Lydia is right outside the tent. Three guards. She knows
you’re in here together. She’s using you against me.”

“Jack, you know I would never-”

He raised a hand to silence Madeline’s
quivering plea. “I know.” His heart contorted in his chest. God,
how he loved her! How could he drag her through all this
God-forsaken muck that he’d lost himself in? “You have to get out
of here. Whatever it takes. Get as far away from here as you can.”
He looked to his brother. “Can you take care of her? Can you keep
her safe?”

Tom stared at him, holding his breath. His
eyes held all the alarm that the true question he was asking
warranted. For the first time in a long time his brother understood
him. With a blink Tom nodded.

Jack glanced to Madeline again. “I’m leaving
you with the best man I know.” She stared back at him in confusion.
He didn’t know what else to say so he reached for her hand and
squeezed it before rocking back and turning to go.

“But Jack!” She grabbed his wrist to stop
him. “Where are you going?”

His heart squeezed harder than any of the
ropes that had been wound around him. “To do what I have to
do.”

Chapter Fifteen

Madeline was too slow to react to Jack’s
final words or to keep him in her grasp as he turned to go. He
burst through the tent flap into the rain. “Wait!” She tried to
crawl after him. Tom grabbed her around the waist and held her
back.

“So?” she heard Lydia’s sickly sweet voice
coo amidst the pounding rain.

“You’ve got a deal,” Jack replied. “I’ll
marry you.”

Madeline’s heart stopped. Her hands and feet
went numb.

“I’m so sorry, Jack,” Lydia’s tone was
anything but. “Do you want me to have them killed?”

“No!” Jack answered as Tom flinched to hold
Madeline closer. “I want you to drive them out.”

Lydia’s throaty laugh was followed by, “Get
rid of them!”

The front of the tent ripped open. Two men
with maces tore it apart to get to them.

“Run!” Tom shouted, hefting Madeline to her
feet and pulling her past them.

She had enough time to see the guards, their
faces twisted with violence, Lydia’s victorious smirk, and Jack
turning his back to storm off. “Jack!” she shouted after him.
“Nothing happened! You can’t let her do this!”

She tried to lunge after him but Tom held her
fast, squeezing her wrist to the point of pain as he yanked her
away. She resisted until one of the guards lost patience and took a
swing at him. With a yelp she lashed out and slapped the guard
across the face. His eyes flew wide, stunned at her audacity.

Tom didn’t wait to see how the guard or Lydia
would react. He half lifted her off her feet as he pulled her to a
run away from the scene. She spent one last spurt of effort trying
to get away, glancing back over her shoulder at Jack’s retreating
back, before giving up. Tears stung her eyes. She put all her
energy into running.

They darted in and out of the rows of tents,
jumping over spare baskets and bundles and dodging unaware people
going about their business. It took several minutes, until they
were well towards the edge of the camp, to realize that the guard
following them wasn’t intent on attacking them.

Madeline skidded to a stop and turned to face
the thug, her cloak spinning around her.

“What are you doing?” Tom demanded, stumbling
as he changed direction to go back for her.

“I’m not leaving Jack!” she shouted to both
him and the guard.

“You have to!” Tom grabbed her wrist as the
guard reached for his sword. “They will kill you if you try to
stay.”

“He’s right about that, missy.” The guard
pointed his sword at her, his hungry grin missing several
teeth.

“Run!” Tom shouted again.

There was nothing she could do against a
brute with a sword but run for her life. She launched off again,
racing with Tom to get away from the camp. Great choking sobs rose
to her throat as tried not to stumble over roots and rocks. Tears
all but blinded her as she dashed farther and farther away from the
one thing she wanted in the world.

They didn’t stop until the sights and sounds
of the camp were far behind them, until they were near to the road
leading out of the forest to Derby.

“Why?” she demanded when Tom finally let them
stop, sobbing and burying her face in her hands. “Why would he
marry that witch? What does he think he’s doing?”

“I don’t know.” Tom doubled over,
panting.

“He can’t marry her! He can’t.”

Tom didn’t give her the reassuring answer she
was looking for. She stared at him as he rested his hands on his
knees, dark hair damp with sweat around his face, waiting. He
glanced up at her, eyes mournful, and straightened.

“There has to be more going on than we know
about.” His words held no confidence.

She nodded anyhow, forcing her back straight
and wiping her dirty, tear-stained face with the back of her hand.
“We won’t know what to do next, how to get him out of this mess,
until we know what’s really going on. Maybe Lydia threatened to
kill Simon if Jack didn’t agree to marry her. Or maybe he’s doing
it to give us a chance to get away.” The more possibilities came to
her mind the calmer she felt. She steadied her breathing, squinting
in thought.

“We should go to Derby,” Tom said as he wiped
his forehead on his sleeve.

“Yes.” Madeline’s eyes brightened. “We need
to get to Derby before they do.” Tom sent her a confused look. Her
course of action was suddenly clear. “If Lydia wants Jack to marry
her she’s going to need a priest to perform the ceremony. And if
they can’t find a priest then-”

“They won’t be able to marry,” Tom finished
her thought. A spark of hope lit his eyes. He grabbed her hand.
“Come on. We’ve got to hurry.”

Whatever the wizened old woman was smearing
on his back was like heaven and hell wrapped up together in one
reeking package.

“This will help those cuts heal faster, my
lord,” she explained when she saw his wrinkled-up nose.

“Yeah, well no offense mate, but it smells
like shit.”

“You’re no spring daisy yourself, my lord,”
the woman cackled.

Jack couldn’t help but laugh along with her
even though it hurt. Everything around him stank of bitter irony,
the sort you couldn’t face if you didn’t laugh at it.

After making a show of furious betrayal at
finding Madeline and Tom together he’d let Lydia lead him back to
her tent. The more angry and hurt he’d acted the more she’d fawned
over him. He’d been given food and drink, a bath and clean clothes,
secured the same for Simon, and all because he reacted like a
jealous lover over her vicious trap. If only he felt like he’d
actually escaped the trap.

“Oy, when you’re done with me take a look at
him too,” he told the wise woman, nodding to Simon.

“I’m fine, my lord,” Simon brushed off his
concern as he chewed a mouthful of lamb stew. He was dressed again,
not in his own clothes but at least in something that looked warm
and clean.

“Lift your arms, my lord, and I’ll just wind
this bandage.”

Jack did as he was told, wincing as he
reached his arms above his head while the wise woman wrapped a
thick strip of linen around his torso.