by Merry Farmer
When he raised his face to her it was filled with love and regret and as much as admitted he was already involved. “Only if you will promise the same, little sister, for I fear we may find ourselves on opposite sides.”
She dropped her arms and watched him go. He hobbled across the room, knocking into a table and earning a shout from the inebriated patron. She turned away and picked up his discarded blotting paper. It was impossible to read the crisscross of words he had blotted from his letter. She crumpled the paper and threw it against the wall before turning and storming out.
Geoffrey was breathing heavily by the time he reached the blacksmith’s shop near the city gate. The rain may have stopped, but sloppy puddles had made his progress from the inn tedious. He sank against one of the posts supporting the roof over the steaming forge and pressed his hand to his pounding heart and the letter concealed under his tunic.
He had spent the better part of the last two days avoiding Aubrey for just this reason. She was too quick for her own good. If she knew something was about to happen then Huntingdon knew too, and if Huntingdon knew Buxton knew. He fumbled for the letter, struggling to balance himself and his crutches as he did.
“What are you doing?” Ethan’s voice froze his blood. He whipped to face his friend so violently that he lost his balance. Ethan jumped to catch him and set him upright.
“Ethan!” Geoffrey panted. He clutched at his friend’s worn cloak, eyes wide and ragged. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving England.” Ethan’s boyish grin taunted him. “Same as you.”
“Be serious!”
“I am being serious.” He removed his hands from Geoffrey’s shoulders and glanced around to make sure they weren’t overheard. The only people nearby were the blacksmith absorbed in his work and the menacing young man who shadowed Ethan like a specter.
There was no time to waste. “You need to give up your plan. Now.” He leaned as close to Ethan as he could without losing his balance. “Aubrey is on to you. And if Aubrey knows-”
“I don’t care about Aubrey.” It was the most blatant lie Geoffrey had ever heard.
He settled back against the post with a noisy sigh. “You take too many risks.” He shook his head. “Just like Aubrey.”
“What about Aubrey?”
“She’s gotten herself into a mess of trouble again.” Every muscle in Ethan’s body tensed. “She’s been challenged to a human chess match by Pennington.”
“Leave it to Aubrey to play deadly games.”
“It’s not real fighting, or so they tell me.” The glint of a new idea sinking into Ethan’s eyes made Geoffrey numb. “If it was I would never allow her to participate.”
“It will be real fighting if I have anything to say about it.” He shared a wicked grin with the boy beside him.
“Ethan, no!” Geoffrey fumbled his weight over top of his crutches so that he could move towards his friend. “It’s too dangerous. It isn’t worth it!”
Ethan’s grin dropped. Geoffrey felt a wall slam between them. “Thank you for your help.” He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head.
“Well do you want this map of the castle or not?”
“I won’t need it now.” He thumped Geoffrey’s shoulder. “I told you I would make it up to you, and after all this is over I swear that I will.”
“Stop!” he ordered and was ignored.
Ethan rushed away without a backward glance and ducked around the corner with his boy in tow. Geoffrey cursed, his back crawling with irritation at being unable to hit or kick something without falling over. He crushed the useless map in his hand and maneuvered his crutches to start back to the inn.
He hadn’t gone more than two houses up when a mail-covered hand clapped on his shoulder. “What do we have here?”
He turned to stare up into the helmeted face of one of Buxton’s guards.
“Unhand me!”
“I don’t think so.” The sleek voice of Buxton himself made his stomach go cold. “You’re under arrest.”
“Under what charge?” Panic coursed through him but Geoffrey held his back straight and looked Buxton in the eye.
“Mmm, treason?” A malevolent grin spread across Buxton’s pale face. His eyes had dark circles under them but burned with a dangerous glow. Geoffrey opened his mouth to protest the charge but Buxton crushed his hand over the one that held the map and wrenched it out of his grasp. The motion destabilized his crutch and sent him tumbling to the muddy road. The guards with Buxton laughed. Buxton’s face was stark and serious as he studied the map and its annotations.
He swallowed hard and glanced from the gloating guards to the increasing fury in Buxton’s eyes. It was pointless to defend himself. There was no defense against the contents of the parchment in Buxton’s hands. The map all but spelled out Ethan’s plan to kidnap the prince and his own part in it.
“That proves nothing,” he scrambled to defend himself. “It was never even delivered. It was just a fancy.”
“Oh?” Buxton tilted his head and widened his eyes in mock innocence. “Well, that makes all the difference then.” Any suggestion of innocent melted into hatred. “Take him to the castle and throw him in the dungeon.” He issued his order while staring deep into Geoffrey’s eyes.
Aubrey couldn’t sleep. She lay in bed tucked against Crispin’s side, arms around him to chase away the frustration of her encounter with Geoffrey, the revulsion of her encounters with Pennington, and the bald fear of Buxton’s wrath. Although he was silent Crispin was awake as well. He stroked her hair as he stared up at the ceiling. She knew his mind was on the negotiations in the morning. Only he, Buxton, Prince John, and Pennington would be in the locked and guarded War Room. At least they would find out what the prince’s visit was really about.
“I want to go home,” she spoke her thoughts aloud.
“So do I,” Crispin sighed.
She lifted herself on one arm so that she looked down on him, hair spilling in a curtain over her shoulder and onto his chest. She weighed the words that had hovered on her lips for days before speaking them. “Can we run?”
He brushed her hair back and lay a hand on the side of her face. The low light of the dying fire made everything soft except for the steel in his eyes. “He would never let me walk away.”
Her heart twisted for him. Crispin was a strong man, a good leader. She drew in a trembling breath, frightened of her own thoughts. “Do you remember the promise that you made to me on our wedding day?”
“Aubrey.” He spoke her name as a warning.
“You said ‘unless your life or my life was in danger’.” His hand slipped from her face, spreading goose-bumps across her arm. “I think our lives might be in danger.”
“Aubrey-”
“What if I asked you to break that promise?”
“It’s too dangerous.” He sat up, taking her in his arms. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart through her skin.
She circled her arms around him, rested her head on his shoulder. “He won’t stop. Not until we’re-”
“I know.” He silenced her with a kiss so deep it pulled tears to her eyes. “But murder, even justified, carries too big of a risk. Believe me. I know.”
This was not murder, it was justice. It would save countless lives to take one. “The chess match.” Ideas flew to her faster than she could process them. “There will be dozens of people in the room, dozens of weapons.”
“Practice weapons.”
She shook her head. “I have no intention of walking onto that board with nothing but a practice lathe.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “Neither do I. And neither will Pennington.”
She splayed her hands across his warm chest, struggling to push her fear aside. “With Prince John here anything could happen. If there were some sort of threat on his life, if Ethan….” She paused and her eyes fluttered down for a moment. The wave of remorse she expected to feel never materialized. She glanced up to him, eyes deadly s
erious.
His face was a mask of swirling emotions tugging at her heart. It was true, he did owe his position to Buxton. Buxton had raised him to the heights he was at now. But he had also used him. She had as little remorse for the thought of the man’s death as she had for Ethan’s stupidity if he tried to assert himself.
Crispin raised his eyes to hers. “I will do what I need to do. For you.”
She let out the breath she was holding and smiled. For one beautiful moment she could see their life together, free from Buxton, happy. She didn’t care what risks she took, what sins she committed to have that life. She would be the sword in Crispin’s hands if she had to be. She circled her arms around him and leaned against him, capturing his mouth in a possessive kiss. When he responded eagerly she tried to push him against the bed, to throw her leg over his hips.
He caught her intention and forced her to her back. Her breath hitched as he pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, thwarting her efforts to take control. He lowered his mouth to hers, parting her lips with the demand of his own. She tried to free her arms from his hold only to have him tighten her prison. His free hand traced agonizing circles of pleasure along the tender skin inside her arm, across her shoulder and along the swell of her breast, cupping it and teasing her tender nipple with his thumb. A whimper escaped before she could stop herself. His mouth continued the sweet assault on the tight nub as his hand ventured across the flat of her belly. She jerked to release herself from his hold again.
“Don’t,” he warned her, his voice so deep and commanding that she felt it in the throbbing core between her legs.
He nudged her legs apart with his knees, wedging them wider than she thought they could go and keeping them there. His hand travelled over her abdomen, fingers teasing her with languid strokes as they played through her curls and slid across the hot, slick folds of her flesh. She groaned at the heady sensations but tried to close her legs. She couldn’t budge. As he rubbed crazy circles around the hard, pulsing nub of her sex she tried to wrestle her hands free. She couldn’t move. He had her pinned and splayed, helpless under his pleasure, completely out of her own control.
He slid his middle finger deep inside of her as his thumb continued to stimulate her and she tightened around him with a gasp. When her thighs strained to close he pressed with his knees, opening her further.
“Crispin, I-” Fear sharper than any she’d known coiled with the pleasure he was giving her. And he knew it. His smoldering blue eyes met hers with a loving dominance that sent her body shuddering over the edge in time to the ministrations of his fingers stroking in and out of her body. The climax he brought her to was more powerful than any in the handful of times they had made love and she continued to tremble with desire even after it ebbed.
Still he wouldn’t let her go. He slid his sweat slicked body over top of hers, tracing his hand over her stomach and breast and up her arm as he brought his hard erection to her still twitching entrance, paused, then buried himself inside of her. He groaned as he filled her but stopped as her thighs clamped his and gazed into her eyes.
“Aubrey, you have to trust me.” He ground the words out against her ear, lips grazing her cheek.
“I do trust you,” she gasped, senses overloaded as he invaded her body and soul. She tried again to yank her hands free.
He tightened his grip on her wrists and ground himself further inside of her until she cried out in bliss. “You have to trust me,” he repeated, lips tasting her eyelid, tongue tracing the bridge of her nose and delving into her open mouth.
She could feel her resistance crumbling. She attempted to press her hips against him to prompt him to move inside of her but when he caught on he managed to hold her lower body immobile. She squeezed her muscles around the length of him inside of her and they both moaned at the explosion of sensation. But his hand still held her wrists stretched out above her head, his mouth still devoured hers, telling her when she could breathe.
Never in her life had she submitted to any man’s rule. She had always taken care of herself. She had always been in control. He pulled his mouth away from hers, tracing her bottom lip with his tongue as he allowed her a breath and stared into her eyes. Trust me. He was demanding submission. Her eyes blazed with independence. He pulled out of her then plunged back in with strength that made her sigh and arch into him in spite of herself.
The tension between them was unbearable. Trust me. She had fended for herself for years, chosen her own fate. Her life had been a struggle for respect. Now, with her body stretched helplessly below and around him, she realized that if she just gave in she could have so much more. Crispin offered her strength, he offered her power. He offered her love.
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.
Chapter Twenty-Two
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.”
