The Loyal Heart Page 8

  “With a sweet explanation of how it is that you, Lady Aubrey of Morley, just so happen to have an escaped murderer in your possession?”

  Aubrey opened her mouth to reply but snapped it shut and turned to the fire. Thick silence fell over the room. Even Jack kept his grinning mouth shut as he shot a glance from Aubrey to her brother and rested his dancing eyes on the young nun.

  “I didn’t think I would ever feel my toes again,” the young nun sighed. She had pulled off her soaked wimple and was shaking her short-cropped hair to dry. “It feels so good! I don’t think I’ve been warm for years, except for when I’ve been too hot!”

  “Sister Mary Peter.” The older nun sent her warning look.

  “Forgive me, Sister.” She lowered her eyes. “I did not mean to complain.”

  Recognition hit Geoffrey. “Madeline Matlock?” Madeline glanced up to smile at him, mouth open to speak, but he spun on his sister before she could say hello. “Anything else happen out there that I should know about?”

  Aubrey bit her lip and sheepishly met her brothers eyes. “Other than the guards who saw us and got away? Or would you be referring to the driver who recognized the Bandit or the merchant whose rings are in Jack’s pocket.”

  “Oy! He gave me them rings!” Jack straightened from his perch by the fire.

  Geoffrey held up his hand to make them stop and hobbled to the far end of the table. “Henry!” he shouted for his steward. “Bring some dry blankets and some food for our guests!”

  “I’ll take care of that.” Toby followed Geoffrey’s command down the hall to the servant’s quarters.

  Throughout the bustle that followed Geoffrey never took his eyes off of his sister. Morley’s servants brought out clean, dry blankets and took away soaked cloaks and tunics. He and Jack were shooed off while the women peeled themselves out of their wet clothes and dressed in Aubrey’s frocks, which looked more like tents on the two petite nuns. Trenchers of food and a pitcher of wine were brought in from the kitchen and by the time the chaos of the arrival began to subside as everyone was seated at the table it almost felt like Geoffrey and Aubrey were hosting a party. Still Geoffrey glared at his sister while she tried to bat her eyelashes at him. Murderers and nuns. He shook his head.

  “Ethan!” Aubrey’s face brightened when Ethan burst through the front door soaking wet and scowling. “You’re just in time. Sit down and have some roast.”

  “We can’t stay,” Ethan told them, striding to the table and trying to pluck Jack out of his chair.

  “Oy!” Jack protested while Aubrey blurted, “You can’t leave without eating.” Ethan let go of Jack as Aubrey went on. “When was the last time you had a decent meal anyhow. You’re starting to look straggly.”

  “We can’t risk being caught here.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Geoffrey narrowed his eyes at the panic in his sister as she rose and rushed to Ethan’s side. “It’s still pouring rain. No one is going to come looking for you in the pouring rain. Besides, they might not even know anything is wrong yet. So go back out there, get Tom, and come have something to eat! You can even bring the prisoner in here and tie him to the banister.”

  “He’s gone.” The air left the room. “Escaped.”

  Aubrey stared at him. “You let him escape?” The sweet, coaxing tone vanished from her voice.

  “He overpowered us while I was tying his arms,” Ethan raised his voice in self-defense. “He may be young, but he’s slippery. He kicked Tom in the face and then bolted.” Jack jerked out of his chair. “Tom’s okay. He’s gone after the bastard,” Ethan calmed Jack, “but he’s not going to catch him.” He sighed, head dropped, and repeated, “We have to leave.”

  “Fine.” Aubrey huffed, marching to her seat and plopping into it. “But I don’t think we have to worry about him marching into Derby and telling Buxton where you are. So why don’t you take your wet things off and sit down and have something to eat.”

  The room bristled as Aubrey glared across the table at Ethan. Geoffrey clenched his jaw tighter. One minute his sister was fawning all over his friend and the next she wanted to strangle him. If she was any more in love he would have to join the crusade again just to have some peace.

  “Ethan, sit down,” he ordered, pushing the chair next to him with his peg so that it scraped away from the table.

  Ethan met Geoffrey’s hard stare with a moment of challenge, then sighed and took the offered seat. He picked up a fork from the place in front of him and skewered a cut of meat from the platter in the center of the table.

  Jack resumed his seat and glanced across the table at Madeline. He studied her creamy skin peppered with tan freckles before saying, “You’re never a nun.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Madeline colored.

  “I mean, you don’t hit like a nun,” he went on, mouth half full of food. “I’ll have bruises on my back for weeks.”

  “You had it coming.” Madeline narrowed her sparkling eyes at him from across the table.

  Geoffrey raised his eyebrows and sat back in his chair. “Hitches?” He sent a wry grin to his sister.

  Aubrey shrugged.

  “Oy! You think you’d know better than to make a run for it when someone’s got the door blocked.” Jack was oblivious to anything but Madeline.

  “Forgive me for believing that unarmed innocents would not be attacked on the road,” Madeline replied with mock offense. She missed the admonishing glance of Sister Bernadette.

  “We were never attacking you.” Jack shook a slice of apple in her direction. “We were after the murderer bloke.”

  “Lady Aubrey has informed us that you were attempting to rescue the man whom you believe to be held prisoner falsely,” Sister Bernadette interrupted before Madeline could say anything else. “See me later for penance,” she slipped to Madeline. “I find it strange that one set of miscreants would try to rescue another.”

  “We didn’t think he was an actual criminal,” Aubrey defended their actions.

  “And what made you think this?”

  Aubrey didn’t know why she felt so guilty under the woman’s calm glance. “Well, Buxton’s done it before. Jack and his brother were condemned to hang for stealing horses.”

  “Yeah, and we didn’t do it neither,” Jack added, mouth full again. “Sort of.”

  “Which demonstrates that you are not a criminal?” Sister Bernadette tweaked one eyebrow.

  Jack and Aubrey exchanged glances. Jack stopped a chunk of bread halfway to his mouth. He sighed and put it down, reaching for the purse tied to his belt. It was full of the merchant’s rings and thunked on the table when he dropped it. He shoved it across to Sister Bernadette. “Here,” he moped. “My donation to the Abbey of the Sisters of Perpetual Guilt.”

  Madeline choked and covered her mouth with both hands. A grin twitched the corners of Geoffrey’s mouth before he could stop it. Sister Bernadette remained serene as she reached for the purse and tied it to her own belt. “Your generosity will be noted, my child.”

  “Just what brings a couple of sisters from Coventry all the way up to Derbyshire?” Geoffrey questioned Sister Bernadette as the meal resumed.

  “We are searching for something that was taken from us,” she answered, staring hard at him as though trying to read into his soul.

  “What was taken from you?” Aubrey asked as she chewed a dried apricot.

  “A great treasure of our convent.”

  “Treasure?” Jack perked up.

  Sister Bernadette lowered her eyes, hands resting on the top of the table. Only when the tension in the room was thick did she say, “Our abbey had the great misfortune to have an item of exceptional value stolen from us several months ago. I have been charged with the task of finding it. We have credible information that it has been taken to Derby. This is why Sister Mary Peter has been sent to accompany me. This is her home shire.”

  “Yeah, but what treasure?” Jack pushed her.

  Sister Bernadette raised a thin eyebrow at J
ack, lips pursed. “It is a statue of the Madonna and Child.”

  Aubrey blinked and glanced across the table at Ethan. He stared at the tabletop with a confused frown. She turned to Sister Bernadette. “How do you know it’s here, in Derby?”

  “It is a large sculpture,” Sister Bernadette explained. “Not easy to transport without notice. We have been following the rumors of sightings, stories told by men whose carts were hired to transport it, whose buildings were used to hide it.”

  “Is it wooden?” Ethan asked, still staring at the table, jaw tight.

  “It is,” Sister Bernadette nodded. “Painted, with gold gilding.”

  Ethan let out an annoyed sigh. “I knew it couldn’t be a gift from Prince John.”

  Aubrey chewed her lip in silence.

  “We heard about the statue in Derby Castle,” Madeline added. “That’s why we’re here. We’ve come to look at it.”

  There was another heavy pause.

  “What do you plan to do if … if your statue is the one in Derby Castle?” Aubrey asked.

  “We shall take it back to Coventry,” Sister Bernadette told her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “But if it is your statue,” Aubrey frowned, “Buxton is not going to let you just walk in and take it. He’s told people it was a gift from Prince John, a sign of his favor.”

  Sister Bernadette stared at her. “This Buxton does not know what he has in his possession.”

  “It’s a statue.” Aubrey shook her head. “I’m sure it’s valuable, but it’s … a statue.”

  Sister Bernadette didn’t add anything to her comment except, “He doesn’t know what he has.”

  The hush fell over the table.

  “I’ll go with you to the castle,” Aubrey offered at length. “I’ll show you where it is. And if it really is your statue, then I’ll do whatever it takes to help you get it back.”

  A wide grin split Madeline’s face. “Thank you, Aubrey.” She glanced to Sister Bernadette.

  Sister Bernadette watched Aubrey with sharp eyes. Geoffrey was sure the nun would turn down the offer of help. And it was a good thing too. His sister needed to spend more time at home and less at the blasted castle.

  But Sister Bernadette went on. “When an offer of help is made to me by a woman who dresses in a mask and cloak to mount a rescue in the forest, that is an offer that must be accepted.”

  Aubrey beamed. “I won’t let you down.” She couldn’t help but gloat across the table to Ethan. He had been watching her, his eyes shaded and thoughtful, and when their eyes met he smiled.

  Geoffrey studied the pair, uncertain what to think. “It’s late,” he announced, pushing his chair back and shaking to his feet. The ache of his missing leg nagged him. “We should all get some sleep.” He glanced to Ethan in particular.

  The assembly around the table broke up, chairs scraping and dishes being pushed to the center of the table. Ethan and Aubrey exchanged smiles before Aubrey linked arms with Madeline and escorted her and Sister Bernadette to the stairs. Ethan wiped a hand over his mouth as he watched them leave. Geoffrey reached out and grabbed his friends arm as he started to follow.

  “Ethan.” His eyes were serious in spite of his grin. “Do what you will, but not under my roof.”

  Ethan opened his mouth to reply, then snapped his lips shut. Geoffrey was treated to one of his friend’s most winning smiles. “I wouldn’t dream of it Geoffrey.”

  Geoffrey raised an eyebrow. “Right.”

  The rain broke during the night, but when the morning dawned a thick mist hung over Morley. Jack took the rare opportunity of sleeping in an actual bed, albeit a tiny one in the servant’s quarters, to have a lie in. By the time he rolled out of bed, cleaned himself up, and brushed his hair and trimmed his goatee the others were all milling about their own business.

  He searched the house for a certain freckled nun, hopping down the front stairs and into the yard when he didn’t find her. Aubrey was busy tending her horse and Tom was loitering in the manor’s workshop, talking tools with the smith. Sister Bernadette sat at the back of the house with Geoffrey having some sort of religious discussion. Madeline sat on a bench against the house facing the stable, hands clasped over a rosary, lips moving in prayer.

  “What’cha doin’?” He sauntered up to her with a grin.

  “Saying my morning prayers.” She had a hard time keeping the smile off her face.

  “Nah, you might as well give that up. It’s nearly afternoon.”

  “All the more reason for me to get my morning prayers in now.” She nodded at him and slid the rose quartz beads through her slender fingers.

  Jack sat close beside her and watched her hands. “You’re never a nun.”

  “I am so,” Madeline laughed. The sound made Jack light-headed.

  “What’s your name again, then?” He shifted closer to her.

  “Sister Mary Peter.” Madeline scooted an inch away from him, grin making her lips tremble.

  “No, the other one.”

  “Sister Mary Peter,” she repeated.

  “You’re too pretty to be a nun.” Jack slid closer still. Madeline laughed, beet red, and shifted again. “Right.” Jack pushed closer. She was on the edge of the bench and had nowhere left to go. “Sister MP then.” Madeline giggled. “Oy, I know that prayer.”

  “You do?” Madeline dared to glance up at him. Green eyes met gray and snapped down to rose beads.

  “Yup. It goes like this.” He slid his hands over top of hers, stretching past her fingers to touch the beads. “ʻHail MP, full of grace. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is each delicious freckle on your face’.”

  “Jack!” she panted, hands trembling, “that’s blasphemy!”

  “That is never blasphemy.” He dipped his head closer to hers.

  “We need to get going.” Ethan’s harsh shout doused the mood.

  Madeline gasped and shot to her feet, marching away.

  Jack glared at Ethan’s back as he continued on to the workshop to get Tom. He froze as the sound of a galloping horse split through the lifting mist revealing a rider in black.

  Ethan cursed and switched directions, sprinting for the stables. “Huntingdon!” he shouted.

  The single word was like lightning striking the estate. Jack dashed after Madeline and swept her towards the front door. Sister Bernadette was helping Geoffrey towards the door as well. The four of them met at the base of the stairs and Jack hooked Geoffrey’s arm around his shoulder to drag him inside before they could be seen.

  Aubrey was the only one with the presence of mind to keep doing what she was doing as the sound of Crispin’s horse grew nearer and as he became more than just a speck of a figure on the road. Her heart pounded in her chest and she darted glances left and right to make sure all of her friends were out of sight. Her horse nickered as she brushed him a little too hard. “Sorry, friend,” she whispered and schooled her face into a smile.

  Crispin skittered to a stop in front of her and dismounted.

  “Crispin.” She nodded. “What on earth are you doing out here?”

  “Aubrey.” He rushed towards her. “There’s been an incident in the forest.”

  “An incident?” She squinted, trying to read him. It was like trying to read runes.

  “Yes.” He hesitated, gripping his horse’s reins and moving to tie them to the fence. “Last night a caravan heading for the castle was beset by highwaymen.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Yes.” His pale face was painted with concern. “Windale was involved.” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “And the Derbywood Bandit, the one who attacked you.”

  “No!”

  Crispin frowned. “I didn’t come out here to tell you that your … your old friend had joined forces with the Bandit.”

  “Has he?”

  He was slow to answer her, staring at the damp ground instead of at her face. “I believe it is possible.”

  “How do
you know?” she asked, shaking her head and walking to the stable to put away the brush she had been using. She caught Ethan waving her off as he crouched under the window and had to toss the brush inside to prevent Crispin from following her. She walked back out to her horse, past Crispin, and forced him to turn in the other direction to stay close to her.

  “The guards who returned with the carriages reported seeing both Windale and the Bandit, and two other men. There was a merchant with the party who survived the attack and identified them as the horse thieves who escaped last month.”

  “I hope everybody is alright.” She crossed her arms and looked up at him.

  Crispin’s hesitation took the form of a dark scowl. “Aubrey, Buxton’s murderer was part of that caravan. He’s escaped.” The intensity of his concern as he told her made her heart beat faster. He stepped towards her. “Which is exactly why I’ve ridden out to Morley today.”

  Her hands floated towards his before she caught herself and let them drop. “Why bother?” she asked without the sarcasm she had planned for the question.

  He took another small step closer. “Aubrey, you know I worry about you out here, so far from Derby.” His voice was low with concern. He glanced down, uncomfortable. “I worry about you out here with no one to protect you.”

  She swallowed her heart out of her throat. It shouldn’t have been there at any rate, damn it. “I have Geoffrey.”

  “I know you are loyal to your brother,” he continued, his voice lower still, “But he….” He glanced up at her, frank concern in his eyes. “He is not in a position to be able to protect you.”

  “I can protect myself.”

  “So you’ve always told me.” Crispin’s face filled with stone and shadows. He met and held her eyes, so full of determination. Her knees betrayed her with their weakness. “This man, Aubrey, he murdered his own lord in cold blood. It is said he has sworn to kill again.”

  Something about the mournful ferocity of Crispin’s eyes as he glanced off and into the fields sent a twinge through Aubrey’s heart. Why couldn’t Ethan burn with anxiety for her like this? She had been about to come back with some other tart reply but stopped herself and just looked at him. Crispin’s eyes and brow were lined with torment, they always were.