The Faithful Heart (4 page)

“My lady,” the bright and calming voice of
her maid Joanna kept her from getting lost in her thoughts. Joanna
was dressed in the Huntingdon black and silver and wore it with
pride, walking with a spring in her step. Several of the male
servants did a double-take when Joanna swept into the room. Toby
would be proud of his sister. “These letters came for you.” She
curtsied and held out a small handful of folded parchments.

“Am I suddenly the most popular woman in
Derbyshire?” She raised a wicked eyebrow at the most popular woman
in the castle as she took the letters.

“You’re certainly the most well connected.”
Joanna grinned right back. Aubrey knew that she shouldn’t be so
familiar with her maid but she couldn’t help it. In a few short
months Toby’s sister had become her closest friend.

She sighed as she shuffled through the
letters, pushing away from the gallery and walking down the stairs
with Joanna at her side. “No,” she said as she opened one letter,
read the signature, and handed it over her shoulder to Joanna.
“No.” She repeated the process with another. “Hell no!” She tossed
the third.

As she flipped the fourth over to look at the
seal a sharp crack and clatter followed by a high-pitched squeal
turned her to the stairs she’d just descended. Several brooms had
been knocked over, upsetting a bucket of dirty water as someone
tripped down the stairs. “Careful, boy!” Joanna shouted as she
rushed at the small, harried figure struggling to stand in the
midst of the mess. It was the filthy boy in the ripped, shapeless
sack she’d passed in the hall. His … or rather her cropped
strawberry-blond hair stuck out in spiky tufts and her large green
eyes were as round as apples.

“Madeline!” Aubrey cried in disbelief. The
green eyes shot up to hers. Aubrey dropped her pile of letters and
ran towards her, ignoring the water and brooms, to crush her friend
in a furious embrace.

“Aubrey, oh Aubrey!” Madeline squeezed her
back, shaking and bursting into tears.

“My God, Madeline, what are you doing here?
And look at you!”

“I ran away!” She clung to Aubrey’s kirtle,
half laughing, half crying. Tears had cleared two wet trails in the
grime on her face but her eyes were bright and happy. “In the
middle of the night with almost no money, no clothes, nothing!
Sister Bernadette helped me. Can you believe it?”

Aubrey worked her jaw, speechless. “I guess I
can if you’re here, but how-”

“Oh Aubrey, it was terrible.” Madeline
squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed, mastering herself and
breathing a few times before opening her eyes and continuing. “You
should have seen the row when Sister Bernadette and I returned to
the convent. Mother Superior was furious that we returned without
the statue.”

“Even though you had the treasure?” Aubrey
had heard the whole story of the hoard of treasure hidden inside of
the statue that Buxton had stolen from the Abbey of St. Mary. Jack
had helped Madeline and Sister Bernadette retrieve it last summer,
but the statue itself had been destroyed.

“Mother Superior said it was blatant
carelessness on our part to reveal the secrets of the Order. Sister
Bernadette was so ill and spent a month in the infirmary so I took
the brunt of the blame. Mother Superior ordered me into seclusion.”
She blanched and her fingers tightened around Aubrey’s kirtle
before she realized that she was clinging and let go. “Oh Aubrey, I
couldn’t bear it. They gave me nothing but bread and water all
winter and no blankets. I was kept in the kitchens like a common
maid and not allowed to go outside at all. And you know how I love
the outdoors. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I begged father to
let me come home but he refused. And mother was no help at all, of
course. A fortnight ago I picked the lock on my cell in the middle
of the night. Sister Bernadette unlocked the convent gate for me
and then I ran!”

Aubrey threw her arms around her friend and
held her tight. “Well you made it here, that’s all that matters.
We’ll take care of you now.” She exchanged a firm nod with Joanna
who had picked up the letters and joined them. Aubrey let Madeline
go and held her at arm’s length. “Joanna will fetch you a bath and
some clean clothes. You can stay at the castle as long as you
like.”

Madeline’s green eyes flew wide. “So it’s
true then? You really married Sir Crispin?”

“Yes.”

“And Buxton is dead? Sir Crispin is the new
Sheriff?”

“Yes, he is.”

Misery and pity crumpled Madeline’s freckled
face. “Oh Aubrey, I’m so sorry! Why didn’t you write to me? I could
have-”

Aubrey shook with laughter and hugged her
friend again. “It’s okay, Madeline, believe me. More than okay.
Crispin is….” She sighed and rested a hand on her belly. Madeline
gasped and covered her mouth as though just noticing. “And I did
write to you. So much has happened in Derby since you were
here.”

“I only received one letter and that was
almost a year ago.” Madeline sighed. “If I had only known I would
have written so much to console you.”

Aubrey opened her mouth to set her friend
straight but stopped and closed it with a grin. “Never mind about
that. Let’s take care of you.” She hooked her arm in Madeline’s and
started for the stairs to the gallery. “I’m going to put you right
back in the North Room. They repaired all the damage from the fire
and it’s the nicest room in the castle now. We’ll have some dresses
made, but in the meantime I’m sure Joanna can find some for you to
borrow. Joanna?”

“There’s that chest of your old things. I’m
sure I could get some of the pages to carry it up to the North
Room,” Joanna nodded, eyes sparkling. She curtsied to Madeline and
reassured her with a warm smile. “I’ll see to that bath right
away.”

Madeline’s eyes flew wide as she remembered
her purpose. “Aubrey, where is Jack? Your one letter said he works
for Sir Crispin now?”

“Yes he does, but-”

“Dear God in heaven!” She pressed a trembling
hand to her heart. “What does Sir Crispin make him do? No! I don’t
want to know.”

Aubrey swallowed the explanation she wanted
to give and smiled. It would take days to explain all the changes
in their lives. “I’m pretty sure that Jack is in the castle. We
could go find him.”

“No!” Madeline pulled away, hands flying to
her hair then wiping across her brow and running along the grubby
mess of her clothes. “I can’t see him like this! I look dreadful!
What am I going to do?” She glanced around as if Jack would pop out
of the woodwork.

It took all of Aubrey’s willpower not to
laugh at her friend. “Here.” She drew Madeline aside to a small
table at the foot of the stairs leading to the gallery. It
contained Livingston’s notebooks and ledgers. “Write him a note
telling him you’re here and that you’ll see him as soon as you can.
I’ll take it to him.”

“Good idea.” Madeline tore a page from the
notebook and dipped a quill in ink then scrawled a long message.
“There.” She put the quill down and handed over the parchment.

Aubrey hugged Madeline again. “Perfect. Now
go upstairs to the North Room. I’m sure Joanna will be there any
minute with your bath and all my old clothes. Something in there is
bound to fit. Go!”

With a joyful giggle Madeline squeezed her
friend’s hand then dashed up the stairs to the gallery and out into
the hall. Aubrey held her laughter until she had disappeared. Her
friend was in for quite a shock when she met Lord John of
Kedleridge.

Jack tipped back in his chair, his booted
feet up on the long table in the middle of what Crispin called the
War Room in the basement of Derby Castle. He tried to focus on
making out the words on the parchment he’d picked up from a pile in
the middle of the table, but it was like trying to make sense out
of chicken scratches.

“Oy, I’m never gonna get the hang of this
readin’ stuff, mate,” he drawled when Crispin stormed into the
room.

“You will if you apply yourself,” Crispin
grumbled as he approached the table and winced at the pile of
business that needed attention. “What new problem is being thrown
in our lap?” He nodded at the parchment in Jack’s hands.

“Here,” Jack handed it over. “Oy, you don’t
look so good, mate.” He dropped his feet and pushed himself out of
the chair to stand by Crispin’s side. “Someone been keepin’ you up
nights?” He sent his friend a saucy grin.

“I wish,” Crispin growled in reply. Jack felt
for the man, he really did. He finally had the love of his life in
his arms and in his bed, had gotten her with child even, and the
business of the shire wasn’t giving him a lick of time to enjoy it.
“Half the lords in the shire have shown up on our doorstep to pay a
‘social call’ since word of the London emissary’s approach got out.
Now we’ve got to feed and entertain them to keep them from
complaining behind our backs.”

“So what else is new, mate?” Jack leaned
against the side of the table, bending back to pick handful of
dried apricots from a bowl on the table.

Crispin shot him a sideways glance. “You do
know that there are a dozen noblemen at least just waiting for one
or the other of us to screw up so that they can cry foul to King
Richard about our appointment when he returns home.”

Jack shrugged. “I thought good old Richard
got himself captured in Vienna. He ain’t comin’ home any time soon,
mate.”

“That’s not the point, Jack.” Crispin sighed
and tossed the parchment on the table. “Look, you’re a good Bailiff
and … and the best friend I’ve ever had.” Jack grinned under the
praise and popped an apricot in his mouth. “But if you want to
succeed as a noble you have to learn to play their game. Believe
me. I know.”

“Oy, and look where that got you, mate.” Jack
argued offering Crispin an apricot. “How long were you Buxton’s
whipping boy before Prince John came along?” Crispin glowered, his
face flaring red. “Sorry,” Jack mumbled an apology. “That was low.
I know you didn’t deserve none of that. Buxton was-”

“You can deny it all you want,” Crispin
changed the subject with a scowl, “but if you want to keep your
estate and that orchard I know you love so much when King Richard
does come home you have to play along. Men like Gerald of Wyndham
and Stephen of Matlock would just as soon see you hang as call you
their peer.”

“That’s all well and good,” Jack brushed off
the dire warning, “but don’t we have bigger things to worry about?
Like this emissary for one. What’s he want anyhow?”

“Money.” Crispin scowled, pushing away from
the table and motioning for Jack to follow him. “It’s always about
money when they send an emissary.” He headed back into the hall,
Jack half a step behind him. “I want him in and out and on his way
as quickly as possible,” he continued his thought as they climbed a
narrow staircase and marched through the hall and along a side
corridor that took them past the chapel and out through the
cloister into the bright Spring morning.

“Your good friend the Prince say anything
about it in his latest letter?” Jack questioned.

Crispin frowned. “He’s still blessing his
good fortune that Richard was captured. He seems to think that it’s
just a matter of time before Prince Leopold does him in, leaving
the way open for John to take the throne.”

“And what do you think?”

Crispin shook his head. “I think that Prince
John is getting ahead of himself.”

“Maybe that’s what the emissary is come
about.”

They strode out into the sunlight of the
courtyard and across it towards the armory. For half a second Jack
thought he saw his brother speeding through the garden. His back
went up and he whipped his head around to look for Ethan and the
others, but no one was there.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Crispin muttered.
If Crispin hadn’t seen anything then there probably wasn’t anything
to see.

Aubrey was on her way down the wide steps
leading from the castle’s main entrance to the courtyard as they
passed. Crispin stopped to wait for her and Jack scanned the
bustling courtyard, looking for another hint of people who
shouldn’t be there. Ethan and Tom and their friends had been
causing enough trouble in the forest without showing up in Derby on
a day like this. A dozen servants in black and silver were
scurrying about with bundles of supplies for the kitchen, banners
to be hung to spruce the castle up for the emissary’s arrival, and
piles of laundry that the visiting nobs demanded be washed for
them. Two or three of the nobs themselves were loitering around.
When they spotted Crispin they leapt like vultures going after prey
to have a word with him.

“Oy! Where do you think you’re goin’?” Jack
shouted at one of them, Lord Gerald of Wyndham, the very same
wanker Crispin had just warned him about. He grasped the sword in
his belt for good measure. Ethan and Tom were forgotten.

Lord Gerald stopped and stared at Jack as
though he were a leper. “I wish to have a word with the Earl.” The
man glanced right past him to address Crispin with a bare half nod
and a reluctant, “My lord.”

“Not now,” Crispin dismissed the man. “I will
be holding an audience in the Great Hall after lunch.”

“But my lord,” Lord Gerald protested.

“Crispin, look!” Aubrey’s gasp turned
everyone’s heads towards the front gate. A carriage bearing the
Plantagenet standard rolled into the courtyard. It was drawn by
four of the finest horses Jack had ever seen. He gave a whistle and
scratched at his pointed goatee at the sight.

“He’s early.” Crispin’s observation was
delivered in such a low bass that the hair on the back of Jack’s
neck stood up.

“Oy, this ain’t gonna be good, mate,” he
whispered to Aubrey.

“No it isn’t,” she frowned. They took a few
steps to follow Crispin to the carriage before Aubrey reached out
and stopped him. “Before this gets out of hand….” She reached into
the folds of her skirt and pulled out a folded piece of parchment,
handing it to him with a frown that wanted to be a smile.