The Loyal Heart (41 page)

She stared up into the fire in his eyes. His face was flushed and misted with passion. His hips twitched against hers. The struggle of holding back was as difficult for him as it was for her, but he would hold out as long as he could to get what he wanted. He had waited for years. His will was more than a match for her own. Knowing that melted her as she never thought she would melt. He was with her. She could never be alone.

She let all tension drain from her body as she told him with her eyes that she was his in every way. He let out a breath and captured her mouth with his as he released her wrists, traced his hands along the sensitive flesh under her arms. She left her hands where they were as he began thrusting inside of her with long, devastating strokes that increased in speed and intensity as he let go of his own control.

She gasped at the white-hot pleasure that seemed to coil harder as she gave in to him. It rose to such fevered intensity that she cried out in rhythm with his thrusts until her body shattered apart from the inside. The sparkling release lasted longer than she dreamed possible, even after he spilled himself inside of her.

It wasn’t until her ecstasy finally calmed and Crispin dropped limp on top of her that she moved her arms to circle his back. Even his crushing weight on top of her felt delicious. Her body trembled in the aftermath of her submission. When he felt her arms around him Crispin rolled to his side, holding her close and threading his legs through hers, tangling their bodies together. He kissed her, breath returning to normal as his eyelids drooped. She could feel his heart hammering against her chest and knew he could feel hers as well. Exhaustion overtook her. It didn’t matter what the morning brought, what evil or danger faced them. She knew where her place was and she would never leave it.

As tight as Huntingdon had worked to make security at the castle, Ethan found getting himself and his men around it laughable. The Prince and Buxton may have been well-guarded, but the rest of the castle was packed and confused with dozens of nobles and their retinues. Four more men in livery roaming the castle’s halls asking questions went unnoticed.

They spread out as soon as they infiltrated the castle. Tom and Toby blended into the activity in the kitchens and stable, lending much needed hands and engaging the castle’s servants in conversation. They even helped prepare the Great Hall for the chess match, painting the floor and moving chairs and platforms while discovering which nobles had been lucky enough or paid enough to earn a spot on the board. They passed the names of the participants on to Ethan.

Ethan and Roderick stayed clear of the castle until after dark. When Tom and Toby brought them the names of the men who would be playing for Pennington they set to work. Long after the restless halls of Derby Castle had settled, they crept along dark passages, weapons in hand.

The first lord was easy to take down. He was too terrified of the masked men who broke into his chamber to shout the alarm. It took all of Ethan’s persuasive power to keep Roderick from killing the man outright. In the end they bound his hands and gagged him and ushered him out into the city and into the hands of a few of the more trusted forest people. They would keep him safe for one day. It was all they would need.

The other noble bellowed and fought to the point where Ethan was forced to knock him senseless to shut him up.

By the time the servants of the castle began to stir with the first rays of dawn Ethan and Tom were in place and ready.

Crispin waited in the hall outside of Prince John’s room as the bright light of morning streamed through one tiny window. It took all of his strength and patience to stand still and wait. His mind was full of the plans he and Aubrey had made the night before. Muffled sound and movement came from the other side of the door. Prince John was the one person who could defend them if accusations were made after the fact. He had one desperate bid to cover their tracks.

The prince smiled when he opened his door and saw him. “Sir Crispin. This is an unexpected surprise.”

“My liege.” Crispin bowed low. “I have come to escort you to the War Room.”

“Oh?” The prince raised his eyebrows, glancing to the guards in the hall. “Is this new?”

“It is.” His stomach tightened as he pushed the final pieces of their plan into motion. He gestured for the prince to come with him and stood as close as he dared to him as the other guards trailed behind. “I wish to increase your security, my liege.”

“Why?” The prince’s face dropped as they started down the stairs.

“I have heard news, suspicions and reports only, but,” he hesitated, knowing that if this went wrong he was tying his own noose, “I have been given reason to believe that your life may be in danger.”

“My life is always in danger,” the prince laughed and waved the thought away.

“From Buxton.”

Prince John stopped in the middle of the curving stairwell. He held out his hands to keep his guards back and leaned closer to him, staring him firmly in the eye. “This is a very serious accusation.” All trace of levity vanished.

“It is, my liege, and it is only a suspicion at this point. It is not something I wish to believe.” It took every sinew of strength he had to look the prince in the eye without flinching. “The reports could be unreliable, but I consider it my duty to make you aware of them.”

“Why would Alfred want to threaten me?” The prince pulled himself to his full height and stepped closer still to him. “I have given him power. I have given him position.”

“I believe he wants more. I know he wants more. But I do not know how far he would go to gain more.”

“And you, Sir Crispin of Huntingdon.” The prince raked him with a glance. “Do you want more?”

Crispin’s heart hammered in his throat. “I only want to go home to live a peaceful life with my wife,” he answered with naked honesty. “I want to have children, raise a family with her, grow old with her, die, and be buried next to her for eternity.” He could see the wonderful dream stretching out in front of him, but never had it seemed farther away.

The Prince watched him, shrewd eyes calculating. Crispin knew the game was up. He had been too emotional, played poorly and given himself away. Then, when he thought he would crack under the pressure of the prince’s stare, it softened into a smile. The prince patted his arm like a brother. “Women do that to us, don’t they. They make us dream of being old men.” He chuckled and kept on walking.

He let out his breath and followed, stunned. Sweat broke out on his back as they continued down the stairs. All he had needed to do was plant a few seeds. He had no idea if he had done that or not. But when he walked into the War Room side-by-side with the prince and saw the look of fury on Buxton’s face, in one blinding moment he knew that if his seeds did not grow it would mean his death.

“Ah, my liege.” Buxton bowed and held a hand out to the small round table with three chairs in the middle of the room. Pennington stood behind one of the chairs and bowed in deference to the prince. “We have been waiting for you.”

“I was having breakfast in my room, Alfred.” The prince smiled and took Buxton’s hand. He shook it and patted him on the back. The sudden gesture made Buxton bristle and when the prince let him go he wrung his hand. “I always prefer to negotiate on a full stomach and your kitchens have been good to me.”

“Yes, of course,” Buxton laughed. He held a hand out to the largest of the three chairs. “Do sit down.”

The prince sat first, followed by Buxton and Pennington. Crispin took his place behind Buxton’s chair. Normally he would stand against the wall when attending Buxton, but one fleeting glance from the prince kept him where he was. His skin prickled as he fought not to interpret the look. He was now following the prince’s orders and not Buxton’s.

“We all know why we’re here.” Buxton unrolled a small parchment on the table.

“To kill a king.” Prince John grinned and laughed. Pennington laughed along with him and Buxton pretended to. Crispin remained silent, face stone. His worst suspicions were confirmed.

“My price is a hundred thousand pounds,” Pennington stated with a smile.

“Payable in installments,” Buxton followed without pause.

Crispin had never heard anything close to this before. It was more money than he would see in a lifetime for a royal assassination.

“Of course,” Pennington nodded.

“Ten thousand to be delivered today,” Buxton went on happily, “the rest to be delivered twice a year in nine deliveries of ten thousand each to you in … wherever it is you choose to retire, Venice or something.”

“By the woman, Lady Aubrey,” Pennington finished.

Fire pulsed through Crispin’s blood with the words and with the lascivious smile that Pennington gave him from across the table. “My lord, no!” He itched to draw his sword and drive it into Buxton’s heart right there, and Pennington’s right after.

“Huntingdon,” Buxton cooed his name and twisted in his chair to gloat at him. “Where is your loyalty to the cause, man? We are saving England from a negligent king here. We all have to make sacrifices. Or are you not loyal?” Buxton glanced to Prince John.

The trap strangled him. “I am loyal, my lord, but-”

“Then take one for the team!” Buxton snapped. “Or rather, let your wife take one for the team.” Rage drained the blood from Crispin’s face at the suggestion. “You will be well compensated you know, and it’s not like she’ll be gone all year. Just most of it.”

“My lord, you know as well as I do-”

“Shut up, Huntingdon, it’s already been decided.” Buxton dismissed him with a self-satisfied wave and turned back to the table. “As for the gory details of the assassination-”

“I’m not so sure I’m ready to go on to the gory details quite yet.” The prince’s words sucked the air out of the room. “I wish to change the terms.”

Both Buxton and Pennington goggled at him as if he had grown another head. Crispin swayed on the balls of his feet, hand flexing over his sword hilt, ready to strike or run if it would save Aubrey.

He froze when the prince glanced to him with a look that commanded him to wait. “Let’s leave Lady Huntingdon out of this, shall we?”

“But, my liege….” Buxton squirmed in his seat. He hissed out an breath before continuing. “She is intelligent enough to do the job, Pennington wants her.” The emissary narrowed eyes at Buxton as he spoke. “And frankly she’s a constant thorn in my side. I mean, she’s ruined Huntingdon. If anything should go wrong-”

“Are you expecting something to go wrong?” For the barest fraction of a second the prince’s eyes flickered to Crispin, so quickly Crispin wasn’t sure he had actually seen it.

Buxton gaped. “No, my liege, but we worked all this out already. Look, it’s already on the parchment. You can’t go back now!”

“Are you suggesting, Alfred, that a prince cannot change his mind? That he should bow to the demands of his vassals?” Buxton sputtered. Prince John rose from his chair and towered over the table. “Perhaps it is not Sir Crispin’s loyalty that should be questioned.”

Crispin swallowed hard. His hands shook and his head swam. He closed his hand around his sword. He could feel the rage radiating off of Buxton even if he couldn’t see his master’s face.

“My liege.” Buxton stood on uncertain legs and bowed to his knees. “You know I am your most loyal subject. I have sought for years to help you gain the throne. I have raised half of the money due for this payment, recruited an assassin from within the royal household at great risk to myself.” He backed up as he spoke. Crispin could now see his pale, panicked face.

“One wonders how you came to know such an assassin, Alfred,” the prince challenged him.

Buxton smacked dry lips and raised his eyes to the prince. “He … he came highly recommended, my liege.”

There was a moment of thick silence in the room. Prince John glared at Buxton, who was making a great show of bowing his head in deference. He was making a grave mistake by not meeting the prince’s eyes.

“I will make a deal with you, Pennington.” Prince John ignored Buxton and turned back to the table. Pennington bowed his head. “I will give you ten thousand pounds and I will give it to you now. I will provide you with a personal bodyguard for as long as you like. I will guarantee your immunity in any land held by the English crown. If you accomplish my brother’s demise upon his return to England, I will give you twenty thousand more and an escort to anywhere you want to go to live out the rest of your life in regal splendor.”

Pennington smiled. “But not the woman.”

“Not that one, no. She’s already taken.”

Another tense silence filled the room. Pennington nodded in agreement. A huge weight lifted off of Crispin’s shoulders. He fought not to show it beyond the involuntary breath that escaped from sheer relief. Buxton strangled a groan.

Prince John straightened and looked at each man in the room in turn. When he had met each of their eyes he softened into a smile and relaxed. “Well now, that’s done. I believe we have some entertainment to engage in.”

Pennington stood and met Prince John with as humble a bow as Crispin thought he was capable of. They walked towards the door together.

Buxton turned on Crispin as Pennington and the prince passed through the doorway and into the hall. He drew a foot-long dagger from a concealed scabbard against his side. Crispin caught the move and jumped back fast enough so that when Buxton thrust at him he was out of reach. Seeing that he had missed his target Buxton rushed forward, dagger thrusting at Crispin’s heart. Crispin backpedaled, reaching for his sword but unable to draw it in time. Buxton chased him up against the wall and had the dagger ready to thrust into his stomach when the prince strode back into the room and shouted, “Alfred!” Both Buxton and Crispin froze, eyes locked. “Stop dawdling.”