The Loyal Heart Read online

  The man’s grin shifted him to the defensive. “Aubrey’ll have your hide.”

  Cold shock dropped like a rock into Crispin’s stomach. “You think so?”

  Jack shrugged and brushed dirt from his faded tunic. “I’m the only one who offered to help her, mate.”

  Crispin’s hand tightened on the hilt of the dagger as he fought the urge to curse. This man, Jack, knew Aubrey well. He took a step towards him. “Where’s Windale?”

  Understanding twinkled in Jack’s eyes. “Matlock. Thinks if he convinces an important nob or two to champion his cause he’ll get his bloody land back.”

  Why was the man being so open with him? “And Aubrey?”

  “Wants her friends released. You gonna help with that, mate?”

  The two men stood staring at each other in the moonlight. Jack was unarmed, but a man without fear was more dangerous than a man with a sword. He was Aubrey’s friend. He was Ethan’s friend. It was impossible for Crispin not to make the next connection. “I want what’s best for Aubrey.” His voice dropped to a low growl.

  “Don’t never tell her that.”

  Crispin raised his dagger and Jack took a step back, holding up his hands.

  “Oy! I’m on your side, mate!”

  “Are you?” Crispin grabbed a handful of the man’s tunic and jerked him to the tips of his toes. “What is there between Aubrey and Ethan?”

  “Nothing!” Jack’s yelp of protest convinced Crispin to drop him. He stumbled, smoothing his tunic with shaking hands.

  “I want it to stay that way.” Anger sharpened Crispin’s words.

  “Me too, mate.” Again shock froze him. Jack saw his stunned expression and went on. “Bloody big prick, Ethan of Windale, if you ask me.”

  Crispin pulled in a long breath as the seeds of an idea formed. He stared hard at Jack. The man scratched his pointed goatee and studied the letter in his hand. Cursing himself for a fool Crispin asked, “What would it take for you to act as my eyes and ears where Ethan of Windale is concerned?”

  Jack’s attention snapped up from the letter. For once the other man was surprised. He blinked and rubbed his goatee harder. His eyes travelled up to the top of the tower. “Let them go.”

  “I can’t. Buxton would kill me.” It was not an idle expression. Jack recognized it and nodded once. “I’ll do what I can though.”

  “A shilling a week.”

  “What?”

  A grin spread across Jack’s wicked face. “You give me a shilling a week and I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Crispin’s heart pounded. “Tell me where he is, what he’s planning. Tell me if Aubrey and he….” He snapped his mouth shut and glanced away. In ten minutes the red-headed peasant had discovered more about him than most people would learn in their lifetimes. He grimaced with self-disgust. “Help me keep her safe.”

  “For a shilling a week I’ll carry her through the fires of Hell and back in bare feet.”

  Crispin extended a hand. Jack took it. They grasped wrists and shook. Crispin backed away and shook his head. He was a bloody fool. “She misses you.”

  “What?” Again Jack was off-balance.

  Crispin nodded to the letter squashed in Jack’s hand. “She says she misses you, that you make her laugh, and she prays for you.”

  The silliest grin Crispin had ever seen spread across the red-headed man’s face. “Oy! Thanks, mate!” He raised the letter to his lips and kissed it before bounding off in the dark.

  The smile that slipped onto Crispin’s face dropped. If he was half as foolish about Aubrey, Buxton would have a knife in his back before he could blink.

  The elation that carried Jack around the corner and out of the garden was short-lived. The seriousness of what he’d just committed to squelched it. By the time he made it to the courtyard his hands were shaking. He stopped and leaned against the castle wall, panting.

  Bloody hell. What kind of a deal had he just made? Improvisation had always got him out of scrapes, but now and then it landed him in a few. Bloody hell. He stared at the letter and the grin crept across his lips. Like the idiot he was he kissed the letter.

  “Jack!”

  Aubrey’s muffled cry from the stairs above made him push off from the wall and hurry towards her. He glanced over his shoulder to see if Crispin had followed. “Get inside!” he warned her.

  “Are you alright?” she ignored him.

  He climbed half of the stairs, spinning Aubrey when he reached her and shoveling her towards the front door. “Yeah. I’m brilliant. An’ Crispin’s still out here so shove off!”

  “Did he see you?” she tried to ask over her shoulder as he hurried her along.

  “Nah, I’m too clever. Go!”

  She broke away from him and dashed up the stairs and into the castle. As soon as she was out of sight Jack sank to the steps and blew out a shaky breath. What was he thinking? He’d lied to Crispin when he asked about Aubrey’s connection to Ethan and here he was lying to Aubrey about, well, about the monumentally thick-headed thing he’d just done. But there was no use in moping about it. He sprang to his feet and dashed down the stairs and through the courtyard into the city. If he was going to be a spy then he’d better get spying.

  Chapter Nine

  The next few weeks were the worst of Aubrey’s life. Geoffrey sent one of the Morley servants to the castle nearly every day in an attempt to drag her home, ignoring her pleas for help. Jack joined her at the castle less and less and when he did show up he was always looking over his shoulder as if expecting to be caught. But Ethan’s absence was the hardest blow to take.

  She heard about him every day through castle gossip, especially when he waylaid a carriage heading west to the Peaks and proceeded to rob the noble it contained when he refused to join the cause. Ethan was becoming a hero to those who despised Buxton and a criminal to those who didn’t, but he never once sent word to her. Every day deepened her sense of abandonment. Only one person remembered her at all.

  A firm knock at her bedroom door made Aubrey pull her head away from the window where she sat. “What.”

  “May I come in?” Crispin’s muffled voice asked through the door.

  “Fine.” She folded her arms across her chest and went back to staring out into the rainy morning.

  The door opened and Crispin stepped into the room. She refused to look at him.

  “I’ve come to tell you that Buxton is holding a banquet tonight. Nobles from throughout the shire are coming.” His deep voice seeped into her bones.

  “I know. I’ve been watching them slosh their way through the rain to kiss Buxton’s feet.”

  Silence roared between them.

  “A troubadour has been brought in from Lincoln.” He was offering conversation but she wouldn’t play along. She scowled out the window, jaw clenched. He came closer. “I’m told he’s very good.” The tension between them was unbearable. “Aubrey, you can’t go on like this,” he cracked.

  Her eyes flickered sideways to him though her body didn’t move at all. Her arms tightened around her chest. He leaned against the cold wall, watching her face. His awkward compassion was out of place with everything she knew about him.

  “Your friends are safe and comfortable.”

  A scowl creased her brow. “Are they?”

  His gaze dropped to the floor when hers blazed at him. “Sister Bernadette insists she’s mending.”

  She arched an eyebrow. That wasn’t what Jack had told her, but there was no way she could say that to Crispin.

  “I’ve taken them books from the library,” he went on.

  Aubrey glared at his forehead, the lock of black hair that teased across it and into his face. “Good for you.” She could have torn him apart with her bare hands for looking so appealing.

  His mouth hardened into a line and his eyes bored a hole into the floorboards. She swallowed when he looked up. “You know if there was anything I could do, I would do it.”

  “No you wouldn’t.” She
snapped her eyes away from him. “You’re too far under Buxton’s thumb.”

  She felt his back go up and didn’t dare look at him. “You’re wrong.”

  “Oh?” She shifted against the windowsill to face him. “Prove it.”

  His hands fisted with frustration. “Tell me how.”

  “Set Madeline and Sister Bernadette free.”

  “Aubrey, you know I can’t-”

  “Yes you can!” Her words jerked his head up. She stood and planted herself defiantly in front of him. “You can do anything!”

  His expression softened for a heartbeat before he stared out the window. “No I can’t.”

  She leaned back, studying the doubt that lined his brow. He couldn’t possibly question his own power. “People around here listen to you. They listen to you more than they listen to Buxton.”

  “And Buxton knows it!” He pushed out a breath, rubbed a hand over his face. “Aubrey, he knows it.”

  “Then do something about it!”

  “The only reason I’m alive today is because I do what he tells me to do.” His eyes flashed to meet hers.

  “But-” She heaved a sigh. “Why do you stay here and let him stifle you?”

  “Because without him I have nothing!”

  “What, land? Position? Is all that so important?”

  “Yes!” He grabbed her arms and she gasped. Her skin prickled with excitement. “Aubrey, my father lost our family land when I was a boy. Do you know what it’s like to grow up with a title but no food in your belly? When Buxton took me on I thought I was being given a second chance. And then I learned the price of that chance.” His eyes dropped from hers and his face flushed with shame. “I learned the hard way what I was willing to do to have a home, a place. You’ve never lived without. You don’t know what that’s like.”

  “Why don’t you leave then? Go somewhere else, serve someone else, start fresh? You could do it.”

  “Would you come with me?”

  His words hung in the air like a half-finished promise. Her heart ached in her chest. Her hands twitched at her sides. She had him. The power he gave her spun her head. And it gave her a devastating idea. “Crispin,” she flushed with the wild move she was about to make, “if you defy Buxton and free my friends I will go wherever you go.”

  The air between them crackled and he straightened. His mouth opened but he shut it again as he studied her. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would!”

  He was so still that she thought he had turned to stone. Then he spoke. “If you marry me I will move heaven and earth to set your friends free.”

  “That’s not the same-”

  “The day we are married. The moment the vows are spoken. They will walk free.”

  He spoke too fast. His eyes glittered with triumph, with hope. Panic and guilt curled through her. She wouldn’t give in to his domination, even if it had been her idea. She wouldn’t let him call her bluff. “How do I know that you’ll keep your word?”

  “Do you think I would lie to you?”

  “No.” She glanced away.

  He reached for her and took her cold hands in his. “I will do whatever is necessary to make sure that your friends are set free the moment we are married.”

  She glanced up into his eyes. He was telling the truth, damn him. “Fine.” Dread slithered down into her stomach with the lie she was about to tell. “Then I will marry you, Crispin.”

  He stared hard at her, judging if she really meant what she said. She met his gaze boldly. “Aubrey.” He spoke her name with enough tenderness to make her legs turn to butter. Then he stepped close to kiss her.

  She turned her head with a gasp and his lips brushed her cheek. Her eyes squeezed shut and her heart tightened. When she dared to open her eyes Crispin stared at her with hurt and confusion.

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I didn’t expect-”

  “No, it’s my fault.” He dropped her hands and took a step back. “I should have asked first.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her heart and mind ached to undo the mess she’d just made. It didn’t make it any easier to look into his eyes to see the pain she had caused festering. The warmth of his lips on her cheek still burned. “I have to go,” she muttered, pushing past him and marching for the door. She needed air. She needed time to think about how to undo what she’d just done.

  “Aubrey,” he called after her.

  She ignored him and rushed out into the hallway, picking up her skirts and breaking into a run. Damn Ethan! Where was he when she needed him? If he didn’t come back soon she didn’t know where she would find the strength to resist the bargain she’d just made.

  Buxton stood by the window in his tower room stroking one of his mice while trying to catch a breeze in the hot afternoon. Laughter bubbled low in his throat, juxtaposed with a disgusted sneer. Crispin’s stomach roiled and his shoulders were stiff as he waited for the full brunt of Buxton’s wrath to hit him. Buxton went on stroking the tiny mouse, raising it to his face and making chirping noises while the poor thing’s eyes bulged. He leaned against the windowsill, grabbing the mouse by the tail and holding it out the window.

  “Does mousey want to fly?” he asked, watching his pet struggle to twist its gray, furry body and climb into his hand. “Does mousy want to leave me, hmm? Does mousy think he can fly without me?”

  “My lord.” Crispin cleared his throat.

  “Yes, yes, Crispy, you’ll have your turn.” Buxton continued to swing the struggling mouse in the air.

  “The nuns are inconsequential to you, my lord.”

  “Oh I don’t know about that.” He dipped the mouse up and down, tittering at its frantic squeaks. “Where do you think you’ll escape to, mousey? I’m the one who gives you everything.”

  Crispin’s jaw twitched. Aubrey’s marriage bargain was a gamble for both of them. He hadn’t expected Buxton to greet it with open arms but the man’s casually concealed wrath alarmed him. He held his back straight. Aubrey was so close to being his wife that he could taste it.

  “My lord, releasing the nuns would counter the inroads Ethan of Windale has made. It-”

  “What did you say?” Buxton whipped his eyes up to meet Crispin’s. The mouse squealed in terror as he pinched its tail.

  Crispin stared at the mouse, still as stone. “Windale is gaining support amongst the nobles who question your leadership. They have-”

  “I want him dead!” Buxton yanked the hand that held the mouse in through the window and pointed at Crispin, ignoring the tiny droplets of blood that scattered as the mouse clawed its tail to save itself. “And I want him to die slowly.”

  Crispin paled and swallowed the bile that rose to his throat. “My lord-”

  Buxton flushed crimson. Then a soft grin crept across his face. His gaze dropped to the petrified mouse. He cradled it with both hands and soothed it with a whisper. “Mousy is such a pretty boy, yes he is. But mousy must never try to leave me, no. Then mousy would be a bad boy. And bad boys must be punished.” His voice grew jagged and with cold fury he spun and pitched the mouse out the window.

  Sweat poured down Crispin’s back, dotted his forehead. Buxton brushed his hands and sighed as though nothing had happened, then turned and ambled to Crispin’s side. He stopped inches in front of him, splayed a hand across Crispin’s chest. “Morley is Windale’s ally. You tell me Windale is making inroads and then you ask me to marry his ally’s sister?” His smile was honey sweet as his hand slid up to clamp on Crispin’s throat. “I don’t trust that woman for a second.”

  Crispin blocked out everything but the thought of Aubrey as his wife. “Once she is Lady Huntingdon I will be able to control her,” he choked.

  “What, by keeping her happy?” Buxton snaked his caressing fingers up across Crispin’s jaw. “By keeping her satisfied?”

  It took every ounce of his self-control not to shake with loathing or snap Buxton’s neck. “She needs to have something to keep her occupied, my lord, to keep her out of
trouble.”

  “Are you going to put her to work sewing your clothes? Rubbing your feet?” Buxton’s fingers threaded up into his hair. He could feel the heat of his master’s body pressing closer. His skin crawled. “You should be putting your energy into keeping me busy, Huntingdon,” he pressed to his toes to whisper in his ear.

  Crispin’s hand flexed to his sword but Buxton intercepted it with his free hand and held it between them. He couldn’t fight, he couldn’t flee.

  “You should be keeping me busy counting my treasury, crushing my enemies, Crispy. You’re so unreliable when you’re distracted.” Buxton let go and stepped away as though he had never touched him.

  “You have my sincerest apologies, my lord,” his voice cracked.

  “As well I should,” Buxton strolled to the mouse hutch. “Windale is a menace. He needs to be dispatched before the Council of Nobles. I don’t want him lousing up my moment of glory.”

  “My lord-”

  “If Lady Aubrey keeps her mouth shut then she can stay right where she is instead of relocating to the church yard.” Buxton ignored Crispin’s attempt to interrupt as he scooped to catch another pet.

  Crispin clenched his jaw and thought of Aubrey. Permission to wed her would have to wait until Buxton’s obsession was satisfied. “Windale will be difficult to catch, my lord,” he growled through closed teeth. “No one knows where he is.”

  “Then find out where he is!” The mouse in Buxton’s hand shrieked as his fist tightened around it. “Find him and kill him!”

  “Yes, my lord.” Crispin bowed and took a step back, grabbing his chance to leave.

  His tension didn’t ebb when he reached the hall. He ignored the guards and bounded down the stairs and through the halls to the armory. There had to be another way.

  The message came by way of the servant who brought Aubrey her breakfast.

  “Please, my lady,” she curtsied as she set the breakfast tray on the table, “I was told to give you this.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.