The Faithful Heart (30 page)

“Robbing the robbers?” He arched an eyebrow.
“No,” he shook his head, “there’s too much risk that way.”

“Madeline and Tom are out looking for
Roderick and his hiding place right now.”

Her words weren’t intended to hurt him but
they did anyhow. “They would do better searching for a nice cottage
somewhere to settle down in, have some babies.” He thrust his hand
into his pocket and rubbed his fingers along the beads of his
rosary. A twist of guilt hit him when he glanced up to see Aubrey’s
face splotched red with frustration. “Oy, you shouldn’t be getting
yourself all worked up in your condition, mate.”

Her lips trembled for a moment before she
puffed out a breath. “Alright, I won’t have this discussion with
you today.”

“Discussion?” He arched an eyebrow. “More
like a lecture.”

“You’re an idiot, Jack, but today we have
bigger things to deal with. Pennington is back.”

“What?” He sank into his chair and rubbed his
eyes. “Not him again. What’s he want?”

“Pennington has been here for the last three
days.”

“You’re joking,” he scowled, gripping the
arms of his chair. “Doing what?”

“Remember all that lovely money Crispin has
sent us? Pennington has been counting it and packing it up to send
to London.”

“What the bloody hell gives him the right to
do that?” Jack surged forward in his chair.

“He claimed that there was no one here in a
position of authority to do it. So he used his own and had every
last strongbox, every object of any value in the castle brought to
the treasury to be counted. Only, surprise, surprise, he’s not
letting anyone observe the counting and the numbers he’s coming up
with are less than what I know is there.”

His first instinct was to exclaim ‘Never!’
but the will to find even a shred of humor in the situation was
completely gone. Instead he kept his face stern and said in a
near-perfect accent, “What does he think gives him the right to go
over your head? You’re as much a part of running this place as me
or Crispin!”

“Thanks for the support,” she grumbled, “but
Pennington is a man and thinks I should be embroidering cushions.
Plus he’s the emissary of the crown. Even if Crispin were here or
if you’d been in the castle for the last few days he’d still
justify robbing us blind. I think it’s probably safe to bet that
half of what he takes from us won’t end up in London.”

“So what does that mean for us?”

Aubrey sighed. “Derby Castle is bankrupt. We
have no money to pay the staff, to pay the guards, to buy
provisions. We have no money.”

“And you say Pennington is still here?” He
rose from his seat hand going to his sword. “Sit down, Jack,”
Aubrey ordered. “Going after Pennington won’t solve anything.”

“Yeah, but it will make me feel a hell of a
lot better.” He paced away from the table, flicking a glance to his
guard. The man wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was
listening in on confidential business. Lydia would know the worst
of it within minutes of him returning to Kedleridge, and when she
did know her taunting and nagging would start up again. The problem
was, she had a point. And she controlled the money.

“Alright, Aubrey,” he paced his way down to
her end of the table. “The time for games is over. Where did you
and Madeline put the priests?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bloody hell, Aubrey!” he shouted, feeling
worse for barking at a friend. “This isn’t a joke! Lydia aside,
people are getting testy about not having mass. It’s been a month,
for God’s sake! Souls are at stake!”

“The people of Derby understand why
we’re-”

“No they don’t!” he cut her off, pounding a
fist on the table. “They don’t understand how I feel!”

Aubrey lowered her eyes. Jack straightened,
cursing under his breath at his flash of temper. When did he become
such a wanker? He took a deep breath, scrubbing his hands over his
face. “Look, Aubrey, believe me when I say I don’t like marrying
Lydia any more than you do. I like it far, far less than you do and
you know it. But we’re the ones bloody well left in charge and that
means we’re the ones who have to make the sacrifices. So where are
you and Madeline hidin’ all the priests, huh? We need them. We need
that money and with Pennington breathing down our necks we need it
now!”

“We can earn all the money we need at the
festival and joust,” she insisted, rolling out of her chair and
standing toe-to-pregnant belly with him. “The festival is the best
way we can make the money for the ransom and continue to push the
shire to support Prince John. That support is the only reason we’re
all in these positions in the first place. Or have you
forgotten?”

“Oh I haven’t forgotten the favor Prince John
did for me,” he laughed without humor. “I have Prince John to thank
for all of this. Without Prince John’s little gift Lydia never
would have noticed I was alive. And like as not Simon would be lord
of Kedleridge and doin’ a much better job of it than me.”

“Simon?” Aubrey blinked. “Why Simon?”

“Never mind,” he sighed. He rubbed his
temples, willing away the headache that hadn’t left him since he
was tied to a tent pole in the Derbywood. “I need to find
Madeline.”

“At last!” Aubrey raised her arms in relief.
“It’s about time you started talking sense!”

“Yeah,” he turned on his heel to storm out of
the room. “I’m gonna find her and make her tell me where the hell
she’s hidin’ all the bloody priests!”

Aubrey yelped in protest as he left the room.
Face dark as a thundercloud, he marched up the stairs towards the
main hall of the castle, his guard dogging him. The castle servants
jumped out of his way, bowing and greeting him with “My lord” as he
passed. They may have looked up to him but he envied the people who
could go on doing what they did without worrying what would happen
next.

When he turned a corner into the front hall
and saw Pennington coming out of the corridor that lead towards the
Great Hall Jack’s temper shot to such a towering height that he was
sure his face burned bright red. He changed his direction to
intercept the man.

“Oh it’s you,” Pennington sneered when he
noticed his approach.

Jack had planned to punch the man in the face
but when he saw Pennington’s mocking look of superiority fade into
surprise at the fine tunic Simon had dressed him in and the
polished sword at his side he had a better idea. He hardened his
face into a grim look of determination and came to a stop in front
of the man. “Pennington,” he nodded, playing the noble harder than
he had ever played it before.

Pennington stared at him, eyes narrowing as
if he had made a mistake and the man who stood in front of him was
someone else. “Uh, Kedleridge.”

“I understand that you have been counting the
contents of Derby Castle’s treasury,” Jack spoke with an accent so
perfect the king couldn’t have matched it. His eyes dared
Pennington to condescend to him now.

“I, um, I am about to send a considerable sum
on Derbyshire’s behalf to London for the ransom of the king, yes,”
Pennington fumbled.

“Good.” He had to concentrate to stop himself
from killing the louse. “I trust our generosity will be duly noted
in any and all reports to the King, the Prince, and the Queen
Mother.”

Pennington gaped. “Of … of course it will, of
course,” he jabbered.

“And I trust that your report will include an
accurate accounting of all monies?”

Pennington worked his jaw around grunts that
had a hard time manifesting themselves into words. “I … there’s no
telling … that is to say … the crown may need…”

He stepped right up against Pennington. Jack
was average height at best, but Pennington was an inch or so
shorter and fury added at least a foot to Jack’s stature. “If I
catch wind of you taking so much as a farthing from Derbyshire to
line your own pockets I will hunt you down, skin you alive, and
make a nice cloak out of your hide,” he whispered in a low voice
that shook with the force of the threat. “I used to be a tanner,
after all,” he added with a wicked smirk, taking a step back. “I
know how to make it really hurt.”

Pennington blanched. Jack nodded and left him
standing in the front hall to think about everything that he’d
said. He didn’t care what the man did about it. He would probably
complain to Crispin, to Prince John even. It didn’t matter. The
only thing that mattered to him was finding Madeline and talking
sense into her.

Chapter Seventeen

“Tom, over there!” Madeline called in a
whisper from atop her horse. She pointed towards a long rut in the
forest floor as he glanced up from the bush he’d been inspecting.
“Are those carriage tracks?” She kicked her mount closer to the
spot in question, eyes scanning the trees for any sign that they
were being watched. When she saw none she gripped her saddle and
prepared to dismount.

“Stay on your horse!” Tom ordered her for the
hundredth time. He jumped up from the bush and ran to check the
marks she’d seen.

“Really, Tom,” she sighed, settling into her
saddle. “How am I supposed to investigate from up here.”

“You can see a lot more from up there than I
can see from down here,” he muttered as he squatted to touch the
marks. “You can see Roderick and his men coming. If we’re attacked
it will be easier for you to get away.”

“We haven’t been attacked in a month,” she
grumbled, tugging at her chausses where they were beginning to
itch.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t happen.” He
sighed and stood. “They are carriage tracks,” he announced, walking
to the side of her horse. “They’re deep enough to suggest a heavy
carriage too.”

“One carrying treasure?” Her heart
lifted.

“Possibly,” he nodded, “but they’re old.
Weeks old in all likelihood.”

Her shoulders drooped. “They’re moving it.
They have to be. We would have found it by now if they were keeping
it in one place.”

“I think you’re right,” Tom agreed with a
frown. “But from where and to where?”

“That’s what we have to find out.”

Madeline stood in her stirrups and scanned
the forest. It was dimmer than she wanted it to be with the clouds
above. The trees were so dense in some areas that she could hardly
see the length of a house. Simple woodland sounds echoed in the
hilly landscape, distorting and leaving her with no idea where
they’d come from. There could have been an army of men over the
next ridge or no one for miles and she wouldn’t have been able to
tell either way.

“We can’t give up,” she scolded her own
thoughts.

“We should head back to the castle,” Tom
shook his head, walking past her to his own horse and mounting.

“Just one more hour, Tom,” she coaxed him,
turning to walk her horse closer to him. “We have to keep
looking.”

Tom winced, scratching his head in a gesture
that reminded her so much of Jack it brought a lump to her throat.
“If those tracks are as old as all that then I don’t think we’re
going to find them anywhere near here today.”

“We can walk for a while, look for
signs.”

“That’s all we’ve been doing for a
month.”

Madeline pressed her lips together, willing
herself to stay calm. “Tom, do you really want to find the
treasure?”

He blinked at her. “Of course I do!”

She shifted in her saddle, the suspicions
she’d tried not to harbor for a month nagging her. “Are you … are
you sure you don’t feel like you have more to gain by having Jack
marry Lydia?”

Tom glanced down, face flushing. “I’m not
deliberately trying to keep you from finding it,” he mumbled his
answer. He kicked his horse to walk back towards the road.

Guilt warred with renewed suspicion as
Madeline nudged her mount to follow him. Something had to be said.
She picked up speed until she walked by Tom’s side.

“Tom.” She squared her shoulders and
swallowed. “Are you in love with me?”

He didn’t look at her. Her heart squirmed
down to her stomach. His shoulders rounded as he shrugged. “I don’t
know.”

“You don’t know?” A squirrel rushed across
their path. Her horse bobbed its head and sneezed. Tom didn’t
answer. She wanted to reach behind her and scratch the itching
feeling down her back. “How can you not know if you’re in love with
someone?”

“I don’t know,” he echoed.

“But-”

“I don’t know, alright?” he snapped. “I don’t
know, Madeline. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. It doesn’t matter either
way, does it? You love Jack. You always will.”

Her face flared pink and she bit her lip. She
hadn’t meant to upset him. “I do love Jack, you’re right,” she
nodded. “And I always will. That’s why I’m not willing to give up
on this.”

“I know,” he nodded and stared straight
forward.

“But I need to know. If there was no Jack …
would you be in love with me then?”

He shook his head and blew out a breath.
“That’s just the thing. There is Jack. There has always been Jack.”
He turned to face her as they rode. “As long as I can remember
there has always been Jack. Mum was gone, then Father died, but
there was always Jack. Jack causing trouble, Jack making a scene,
Jack getting all the attention, all the girls.”

“Were you jealous of him?”

He laughed and stared up at the trees above
him. “Yes. No, not really. I don’t know.”

She arched an eyebrow. “That’s not an
answer.”

He glanced to her. “I didn’t have much time
to think about it until he was gone.”

“When he went to work for Crispin you
mean?”

He nodded. “I thought he was the biggest
pillock in England,” he sighed. “What kind of man leaves his
brother, his only family, to be someone’s groveling spy?”

“It was an accident, you know,” she spoke
softly, not wanting to tread on his pain. He glanced to her.
“Crispin caught him after he’d climbed up the side of the castle to
see me and he ended up working as a spy to avoid something
worse.”