The Faithful Heart (29 page)

She’d fully intended for them to be married
the day she let Jack and Simon go, or the next day at the very
latest. Kedleridge was too small to have a church or a priest, but
when she and Jack had ridden over the hill to Windale they
discovered that the village priest who lived there was missing.
She’d thought nothing of it until they had rode on to Allestree
only to find their priest gone as well. It wasn’t until they’d
ridden to Derby itself and searched the entire city without finding
a single man of the cloth that Lydia had grown suspicious.

“Have you had any luck at all finding a
priest,” she badgered Jack as she gestured for her guard to pull
out a chair at the end of the table opposite him. She sat. Her
bodyguard took a place near the front door, directly across the
room from the goon she’d charged with tailing Jack wherever he
went.

“No,” he replied without glancing up from the
parchment in his hands. The kitchen maids she’d seen earlier were
setting steaming dishes in front of him. He gave them a weak grin
before frowning at his parchment again. The maids had the audacity
to look like someone had drowned a sack full of kittens.

“What are you doing?” She settled back in her
chair, watching the two maids that rushed to serve her like a cat
waiting to pounce. They’d been threatened enough times to know what
would happen if they didn’t live up to her standards.

“Reading a message from Crispin,” Jack
mumbled in return.

Lydia laughed. “What a joke.” She sniffed and
snatched the mug of plum wine one of the maids poured for her. “You
can’t read.”

“I been practicing.” His frown darkened.

“Oh please.” She drank her wine and shooed
the maids away once her plate was filled. “Stop wasting your time
with that and get out there and find us a priest.”

He dropped his letter and sighed in
irritation, finally glancing up to meet her eyes. “What’d’ya want
me to do? Take a pack of dogs and go scouring the shire for them
like a bloody fox?”

“If that’s what it takes,” she spat back.
“You’re stalling. I don’t like stalling.” She flickered a glance
across the room to the guards. They shifted in their places,
clearing their throats and coughing to remind Jack of their
presence. One spit on the floor. The kitchen maids scrambled over
themselves to flee the room.

“Oy, I’m not stalling!” Jack made a show of
not being intimidated. “I want to get this over with as fast as you
do! The sooner that money is in Derby Castle’s treasury the
better.”

“Oh sure, that’s all you care about.”

“Yes! That is all I care about! Least as far
as you’re concerned,” he grumbled. She thought he would leave it
there, but since returning to Kedleridge the slightest things set
Jack off like Greek Fire. “Do you think I want to drag this whole
process out? Believe me, I don’t. You’ll get your title and your
fancy position up the ass of every nob in the shire. I hope then
you can call off your watchdogs and send them back where they
belong.”

“We’ll see.”

“So don’t you go accusing me of dragging my
feet on this one!” he railed on.

“Well if you could control that bitch
Madeline-”

“You leave her out of this!” he shouted,
rising to his feet and scraping his chair back.

“You know she’s the one responsible for the
priests.” Lydia poked at the eggs in front of her. “I never should
have let her out of the camp alive. She’s probably set up her own
little harem of priests somewhere so she can screw them all. And
your brother.”

“Don’t you dare-” Jack began, face and neck
bright red. He stopped, finger stabbing the air at her, hand
trembling. His gaze flickered past her.

She turned to see Simon enter the room. He
was back to dressing in black. “You sent for me, my lady?” he
clipped the words as if they were poison in his mouth.

“Yes,” she smiled, ignoring Jack’s tantrum.
“Come here.” Simon exchanged a glance with Jack before walking to
the side of her chair. The way he towered over her as she sat sent
a familiar tingle through her gut. His eyes always had been
ferocious. So had his embrace. He would eat her alive if she gave
him half a chance. How delicious that would be! “Those awful
kitchen maids need to be punished again,” she feigned
indifference.

“For?” His eyebrow gave the barest of
twitches.

“Impertinence. They failed to acknowledge me
properly this morning.”

“Oy, give Alice and Imogene a rest already.”
Jack snatched his letter from the table and stuffed it in his belt.
“And Simon too while you’re at it.” Before she could scold him he
told Simon, “I’m goin’ to Derby. I’ll be back in a couple of
days.”

“Very good, my lord,” Simon nodded.

“Not very good!” Lydia rose in protest. “What
about the priests? What about our wedding preparations?”

“Go prepare them yourself!”

He didn’t wait for her reply. Snatching a bun
from the plate that had been set for him he scowled and stomped out
through the front door. The guard she’d tasked with watching him
jumped to follow. When he had left the room as well Lydia shrugged
and went back to her breakfast.

“Once you’ve punished those girls I want you
to do a thorough cleaning of my bedroom,” she went on to Simon as
though nothing had happened. “The bedclothes are older than my
grandmother. I want them replaced at once.”

“Is there anything else you want?” Simon
drawled. His subservient act was gone. The Simon she once knew
hovered before her.

She grinned up at him, studied the lines of
his shoulders, the swell of his chest. It was too bad he wore a
tunic that covered the more interesting parts of him. And those
parts were very interesting. “Oh yes, Simon. There is so much more
that I want.”

“Is that so?” He gripped the side of her
chair and leaned closer.

Her heart raced. She could smell the rich
masculine scent of him, feel the warmth radiating from his body.
Her eyes dipped to the neck of his tunic but he had it done up too
tightly to see much. Her memory filled in the blanks. Everything
she’d ever wanted was within her reach, literally and figuratively.
Her blood felt like fire in her veins. “Of course it is,” she
hummed.

“And you think Jack is the key to all that?”
his words pulsed with seduction.

He bent closer still. Her gaze dropped to his
mouth. His lips were parted. She surged closer to him, heart
pounding into her throat, her pussy aching. “Yes,” she whispered.
She was so close she could taste victory.

She closed her eyes. His breath was warm
against her mouth.

“Then you’re a bloody fool,” the words rolled
up from his chest.

He stood abruptly and turned on his heel to
walk out of the room.

The cool air that rushed in around her was
harsher than a slap. She sucked in a breath, flushing red, stomach
fluttering. Too late she recovered her wits and spun in her chair
to call out, “Simon! Come back!” He disappeared around the corner
into the servant’s quarters. “Simon!” A wave of panic at losing him
again hit her. She crawled out of her chair and ran halfway across
the hall before forcing herself to stop.

She snapped back towards the table, holding a
hand over her chest to still her pounding heart. How dare he bait
her like that! She balled her fists and glared up at the one
remaining guard. He stood by the door, staring at the ceiling,
pretending he wasn’t there. “Go have my horse saddled!” she
ordered, fury replacing the raw longing she’d let the man see.

“Yes, my lady.” He bowed and tripped over
himself rushing out of the house.

She huffed in indignation and glared at the
passage to the servant’s quarters. Her anger flared hotter as it
mixed with lust. If Simon thought he could play with her again he
had another thing coming. This time Constance wasn’t there to get
in her way.

Jack galloped into the courtyard of Derby
Castle with the same sense of dread he’d carried for the last
month. He pulled his horse to a skidding stop and jumped down
before it could settle, his back still aching from the wounds of
his ordeal in the forest. One of the stable boys rushed forward. He
ignored the lad, eyes scanning the courtyard, the cloisters, the
side buildings for any sign of Madeline. She was staying at the
castle. Tom was too. Ever since Aubrey had told him he had gone out
of his way to avoid them. There was no way he was going to be able
to do what he had to do if Madeline was always a breath away.

He didn’t see her in his initial sweep. He
couldn’t miss the bloody guard Lydia had sent to keep his noose
tight.

“Oy, why don’t you go get yourself lost,” he
called to the man as he marched towards the stairs up to the castle
door.

“I got orders,” the man grunted, jogging to
catch up with him.

“Yeah?” Jack paused and spun to face him.
“Orders? I’ll tell you what.” He reached into his pocket and fished
around for a few coins. His fingers tangled with the beads of his
rosary. His stomach lurched its way to his heart. He ignored it and
took out a few coins. “Why don’t you take this and go find a pretty
girl to spend it on.”

The guard stared at the coins, scratching his
head and wincing. “I can’t,” he pouted.

“Fine.” He fished in his pocket for a few
more coins. “Will that do it?”

The man groaned as if sorely tempted. “It’s
not that, my lord,” he cringed.

“What. What is it then?” Jack was in no mood
to play games with the wanker.

“It’s me wife and little ‘uns, my lord.”
Jack’s brow flew up. “She’s got Connor and the boy Roderick
‘watchin’ out for ‘em’.”

The familiar twist of despair that had become
such a part of his life stung Jack again. If only the guard’s
revelation made him like the man more. But no, he was still a
miserable, wanking brute and acted like it every chance he got.
Maybe his wife was better off where she was. Just like Madeline was
better off wherever she was.

“Fine,” he shoved the coins back in his
pocket, clutching the rosary as he turned and climbed the
stairs.

It was small relief that he had an
overwhelming amount of work to do. The castle was busier than usual
as he strode across the main hall towards the stairway leading down
to the War Room. Under normal circumstances he hated a busy castle.
It meant too many problems, most of which were addressed at him in
Crispin’s absence. But today it meant that there would be plenty of
distractions to keep his mind off other things.

He wasn’t surprised when he found Aubrey
seated in Crispin’s place at the table, pillows piled around her.
She rubbed her bulging belly as she read a letter.

“Oy, you gonna up and have that baby
already?” he tried to joke. It sounded more like a criticism in his
current mood.

“Not for another month or so.” She sighed and
put the letter down. He recognized the frown that creased her face
and hurried to his end of the table to get away from it. Aubrey’s
eyes flickered to the guard as he settled against a pillar and
crossed his arms. “Your friend still following you around?”

He ignored the question. Aubrey knew better
than to ask it. “I got a letter from Crispin this morning,” he
sought to deflect her.

“So did I.” She strained forward to pick up a
piece of parchment from the table. “What does yours say?”

He yanked the letter from his belt and arched
an eyebrow at her. “Oy, you testin’ me, mate?”

She struggled not to grin at his comment.
She’d been fighting not to laugh at him or smile at him at all
since she’d found out he was marrying Lydia. “He wrote to me that
he’s on his way home. His letter came with another carriage full of
strongboxes.”

“Yeah, he told me he sent two hundred or so
marks from out west.” In spite of everything, it felt good to be
able to report on what he’d read in a letter. A year ago he
wouldn’t have been able to read his name if someone had spelled it
out for him. Of course a year ago he was a carefree peasant
dreaming of the day he would be reunited with a freckled nun. “Has
the money been put in the treasury?” He blocked himself from
daydreaming. If he had his way he would never dream again.

“It was,” Aubrey shifted, her frown
returning. “And with the money Crispin has already sent and the
amount he writes that he’s bringing with him when he comes home
that takes us up to just about five thousand marks.”

“An’ Lydia’s hoard should be enough to get us
to ten thousand,” he added in a grumble, studying his letter
instead of meeting her eyes.

“We’re sure to be able to make a few hundred
more marks at the joust and festival next month,” she raised her
voice and ignored his statement, “and I’ve surveyed the guilds in
the city to see if they would be interested in selling to
neighboring shires to make up the difference.”

“Which is nice but unnecessary if you take
Lydia’s hoard into consideration,” his own voice took on a harder
edge.

“Plus I think we could ask a better price for
our wool this year if we take it to some of the larger markets near
the coast,” she rode over his statement.

“Or we could save the trouble of
transportation costs by not ignoring me when I say that Lydia’s
money will be more than enough to cover the rest of what Derbyshire
owes!” He finally glanced up and met her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this, Jack!” Aubrey
exploded. “You don’t have to and you’re a heartless ass for even
considering it!”

“Derbyshire doesn’t have the money for me to
consider any other options,” he surprised himself by sighing and
backing away from her fight instead of arguing with her. “This is
far and away the easiest solution to the problem we could possibly
hope for.”

“Do you know what an easier solution would
be? Dedicating more manpower to finding the ill-gotten gains and
taking it by force.”