The Faithful Heart (28 page)

“Don’t give me that look,” he grumbled at
Simon. “You didn’t see what I saw.”

Simon straightened as if Jack had insulted
his mother. “I don’t believe for one moment that Lady Madeline has
an ounce of feeling for anyone other than you.”

“Neither do I,” Jack replied, lowering his
voice to a murmur and glancing around for hidden ears. It didn’t
make him feel a bit better to say it. “I was talking about the
treasure. But now that you mention it, Tom’ll do a damn sight
better at taking care of MP and making her happy than I ever
could.”

“Do you believe that?” Simon stared at him, a
spoonful of stew suspended between his bowl and his mouth.

“Yes!” He grimaced as the wise woman pulled
the bandage tight.

“You’re full of shit, my lord.” Simon went
back to eating.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see if you still think so
once you see the great whopping pile of gold Lydia’s got. It’s
enough to pay Derbyshire’s share of the king’s ransom with a bit
left over to help people, mate.” Simon arched an eyebrow at him as
if he were lying. “It’ll be enough to save mine and Crispin’s
necks. King Richard would never take away what his brother gave us
if we hand over that treasure to his cause. You’ll see. You’ll see
when we get home.”

Home. The very thought of Kedleridge, of
Derby filled him with relief and dread. All it had taken was a
quick promise to marry Lydia and they’d been released, tidied up,
and were well on their way to going home. Of course for all intents
and purposes the ropes still firmly tied his hands.

“Aren’t the two of you looking smart,” Lydia
hummed as she ducked into the tent, Roderick following her. She’d
changed into another, drier dress, this one just as eccentric as
the last one. Her hair was brushed but still wet and she wore a
golden diadem, necklaces, and bracelets on both wrists. Roderick
looked as much like a ragged murdered as ever. “How is my brave,
handsome fiancé faring?” she asked the wise woman as she slid
across the carpeted tent towards Jack.

Jack sent her a flat stare out of the corner
of his eye, glad his arms were still up in the air and the wise
woman blocked him from wringing her neck. Roderick shadowed her
with his big knife, so hurting her would only get him killed
anyhow.

“He needs rest and time to heal,” the wise
woman snubbed Lydia. She glanced up to Jack to see what he thought
of her impertinence. In spite of himself Jack winked at her. She
grinned.

“There will be plenty of time for relaxation
once we are home and cozy at Kedleridge.” Lydia waited until the
wise woman was finished and Jack had lowered his arms to lay a hand
on his shoulder and press herself against him.

Jack shrugged her off. “Oy, we gotta set some
ground rules, mate.”

Lydia’s smile dropped. Simon set his bowl
aside and rose to stand behind her. Roderick jerked towards him,
warning him off with the point of his knife.

“What rules do you have in mind?” Lydia
heaved a bored sigh, studying her bracelets.

“First, you don’t touch me.”

She huffed and lowered her hand. “Well that’s
no fun.”

“You said you had no intention of being
faithful to me, so go an’ get your jollies elsewhere, mate.”

She curled a pouting lip. “But how do you
plan on having heirs, my lord?”

The concept of making babies with Lydia
turned his stomach. “Who says I need ‘em?”

Lydia sighed and opened her mouth to retort,
but Jack cut her off.

“Second, you don’t touch Simon.” Simon arched
an eyebrow at Jack. Roderick’s eyes flashed with rebellion.

Lydia blinked, her expression shifting from
startled to mocking. “What makes you think I would soil myself by
touching him.”

Roderick sniggered.

“I mean you make sure that your goons know
they are not to so much as look at him funny. He shows up dead or
with so much as a splinter and I will kill you.” He punctuated his
threat by staring right at Roderick. The young man scowled in
return. Jack met Simon’s eyes. His friend’s face was as blank as
ever it was.

Lydia, on the other hand, looked like he’d
just made her eat dirt. “I have no intention of lowering myself to
the point of noticing him!”

“Not good enough,” Jack shook his head. “Say
that you will not harm him. Say it in words.”

She pursed her lips. “Fine. I will not harm
Simon.”

“Or Tom or Madeline either,” he worked his
expression into what he hoped was bitterness.

“Oh no, my lord.” She returned his look with
a sly smirk. “I’ll leave them to you.”

“Good,” he nodded, heartsick at the charade.
“Third, you put all that gold and all those jewels in as many carts
as it takes and have it deposited in the treasury at Derby
Castle.”

Her face hardened. She lowered her head with
a frown, lips drawn in a tight line. He felt his command of the
situation falter. A quick glance to Simon showed him his friend
didn’t think she would take that particular bait.

“I’ll tell you what,” she took a breath and
raised her head as Jack was beginning to really worry. “I’ll pack
up the gold, nice and safe, and give it to you as a wedding
present. It’ll be waiting in the churchyard when we walk out, man
and wife.”

Jack spit a mental curse. She would make it
as impossible for him to get out of the bargain as she could. He
took his time replying, taking the linen shirt the wise woman
offered and throwing it over his head. His frown landed on
Roderick. The young man was just one of the army Lydia had at his
disposal. He didn’t even know how many men she commanded yet. It
could be six, it could be six dozen mercenaries. Until he knew he
risked all of their lives every time he opened his mouth. At least
Madeline was safe.

“Fine,” he muttered once the shirt was
fastened and tucked in. “You keep your little hoard for now. But so
help me, Lydia, if every last coin isn’t waiting outside that
church then I’ll be the fastest widower in Derbyshire history. Do I
make myself clear?”

“Very, my lord.” Her chest heaved as she took
in a breath, her eyes fiery.

He turned away in disgust. “You said we can
have horses to take us back to Kedleridge?”

“They’re ready and waiting.”

He nodded, pushing past her and motioning for
Simon to follow as he stepped out into the dreary afternoon. A
field of forest people waited for him along with five horses. Two
of Lydia’s goons had already mounted and sat waiting. Jack sighed
and turned back to her as she emerged from the tent.

“What, you didn’t think I was going to let
you leave alone, now did you?”

“I take it they’re coming with us?”

“Of course,” she grinned.

He shook his head, starting towards the
largest of the horses.

“Pack up the hoard and hide it. Set at least
ten men to guard it and make sure they know their throats will be
slit if they take so much as a farthing,” he caught Lydia ordering
Roderick before parading towards one of the horses.

Simon sent his son a dark look. For a second
Jack thought he was going to say something to the little wanker,
but he moved on, striding over to mount one of the horses.

At least the rain had stopped. It was the
only good news he had so he stuck to it.

He was halfway across the space to his chosen
mount when a girl broke away from the watching crowd and ran
towards him. He smiled at her until he recognized her.

“Oy, come to steal somethin’ else from me?”
He planted his hands on his hips and failed in his attempt not to
glare at her. The girl paled in fear, freezing where she was. A
twist of guilt made him feel worse than he already felt. He sighed,
crouching to her level. “I’m sorry, alright? What’s your name?”

She inched closer, wariness painting her
childlike features with an awareness of life far beyond her years.
“Kitty.” She came to stand a foot in front of him and held out a
hand, opening it to show his rosary. One or two beads were missing
but it was still intact. Jack shot a look over his shoulder. Lydia
was busy mounting her horse. He shifted the girl so that Lydia
wouldn’t see her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Mama says I was
naughty to take it.” She poured it into his hand when he offered
it.

A lump caught in his throat. The beads felt
smooth and cool, like drops of life against his sore palm. He
closed his hand around it, bringing his fist to his lips and
blinking back the tears that threatened to unman him. This small
trinket was the most he was ever going to have of the woman he
loved beyond reason.

“Thank you, Kitty,” he nodded, voice
cracking.

“Don’t cry, Lord John,” she patted his hair
like a favorite dog.

Oh God, he was going to fall apart
completely. He couldn’t do this, he wasn’t strong enough. “Give us
a hug then.” He swallowed, fighting to regain his composure. The
girl smiled and threw her arms around him. He didn’t even mind the
sting it caused. He rested his head against hers, letting out a
shuddering breath. He kissed her forehead and held her at arm’s
length.

“Stop messing with the children and get
moving!” Lydia barked above him.

He twisted to glare over his shoulder at her.
“Oy! Give me a minute here!” He turned back to the girl.

“I don’t like her,” Kitty whispered.

“Neither do I,” Jack winked. Kitty giggled as
if they’d shared a secret. He kissed his closed fist again and
tucked the rosary into a pocket in his tunic. “Better not let her
know you gave this back, eh?” He straightened, ruffling a hand
through her hair and striding towards his horse.

He was aware of the eyes watching him, the
curiosity and the hope. He exchanged a glance with Simon, who was
back to being his old stoic self. Lydia tapped her fingers
impatiently on her saddle. He took hold of his own saddle and
muscled himself to mount. As he grabbed the reins he sat tall and
surveyed the forest folk around him. There were dozens, more than
just the blood-thirsty blockheads that did whatever Lydia told
them. They were frightened, wayward people, nothing more. Ethan may
have been a miserable sod, but he’d gathered these people because
they had nowhere else to go.

“Any of you who wish to leave the forest and
make a real home are welcome at Kedleridge.” He was surprised to
hear the words leave his mouth in a nearly perfect noble accent.
“If you come to me, we will find a place for you.”

A murmur went through the crowd. Simon
glanced to the canopy of leaves, his jaw hard, shaking his
head.

“Really, Jack?” Lydia scoffed.

“Really,” he answered to the people, not to
her. His gaze fell on the old wise woman who had treated his back.
“You especially,” he pointed at her, his accent slipping.

She laughed. “I’ll be right behind you, my
lord.”

He nodded to her with a smirk then sought out
the girl. “And you, Kitty, definitely,” he winked. “Bring your mama
too.”

The girl, who was now standing at her
mother’s side, buried her face in her mother’s skirts. Her mother
nodded to Jack, tears in her eyes. It would be worth it, he told
himself. If he could help these people, if he could secure Lydia’s
hoard and use it to help these people and pay the king’s ransom it
would be worth every personal sacrifice he made.

Almost.

Chapter Sixteen

Lydia leaned out of the window of the master
bedroom of Kedleridge Hall and breathed a contented sigh. The
orchard where she and Constance had played as girls, where she and
Simon had kissed and planned for a glorious future, stretched off
towards the hillside. Well, she had done most of the planning and
he had done most of the kissing, no matter how viciously he denied
it now. It didn’t matter anyhow. The spring blooms of the orchard
were mostly gone but the haze of light green leaves reminded her of
childhood fantasies.

“Lady Lydia of Kedleridge,” she whispered
into the morning like a spell. She’d always played the lady in her
childhood games, always made Constance act as her servant. She’d
demanded her sister bring her tributes of flowers and fruit, even
pretty stones she found. Those games were a reality now.

Two of the housemaids passed from the kitchen
towards the house under the window, whispering to each other as
they went. “Excuse me!” Lydia barked down to them. “If you want to
keep your place here then you will remember to show manners to your
betters.”

The two stopped and gaped at each other
before bobbing curtsies. “Yes, my lady,” they mumbled and dashed
on.

Their expressions were far too petulant for
her liking. She would have to have a word with Simon about the
pair.

A slick grin spread across her face as she
turned and stepped away from the window. Simon. She had been back
at Kedleridge for a month and far and away the most fun she’d had
was forcing Simon to do her bidding. It was the most fitting
revenge she could think of for the way he’d thrown her off all
those years ago. She was in charge now.

“Fetch Simon,” she snapped at Macy, the
latest of her old acquaintances whom she had picked to be her
personal servant. “Send him to the hall to attend to me.”

She crossed the bedroom, ignoring Macy as the
fat woman curtsied and mumbled, “Yes, my lady.” Macy would be sure
to do as she was told right away if she wished to keep her place.
The last two old friends she’d tried in the position had been a
waste of her time. They just couldn’t get used to having a fellow
village girl rise above them. They’d been punished for it too.

Lydia swept out into the hallway and down the
stairs to the great room. The guard she kept near at all times left
his place to trail after her. Kedleridge Hall was woefully
inadequate as a manor house. She would make Jack build a new house,
three times the size as soon as they were married. Her grin
faltered into a grimace. Whenever that would be.