by Merry Farmer
Jack turned from the fight to watch Madeline. Her eyes and mouth were both wide open. Maybe it was because of the way Aubrey dodged a complicated attack that would have laid any other opponent on their back. He didn’t care. Courtyard or no, he wanted to lay her on her back and trace the shape of her lips with his tongue. He wanted to nibble the freckles that played across the dip of her throat and follow them down to the tempting valley between her small, pert breasts. He wanted to-
“Will you teach me to fight with a sword like that, my lord?” Lydia’s breathy voice interrupted his fantasy. She grabbed his arm.
“Wha? Oh, uh, sure.” He cleared his throat and gulped at his ale. A spark deep in Lydia’s eyes made him hotter than he’d already made himself. He finished his ale and handed the empty tankard to her. “Only I’ve just been learning myself.” He glanced to Madeline and found her still watching the sparring match, but her face was now tight and her lips closed in a line. Bloody hell.
“I’m sure there’s plenty you could teach me.” Lydia took the tankard with one hand and squeezed his arm with the other.
Crispin’s face was a mask of concentrated energy as he fought off Aubrey’s clever advances. Jack wished he could say the same for himself. Lydia stroked the length of his arm and his chausses felt as if they were fastened too tight. Madeline’s jaw only got harder as she stared stiffly ahead, eyes unfocused. Jack chewed his lower lip, face flushed, sweat trickling down his back.
Crispin shifted his grip as Aubrey lunged at him and pulled his sword around in a tight arch, thumping her hard on her hip. She blew out a frustrated breath. Jack echoed the sentiment, dropping Lydia’s arm and stepping back so fast he trod on Joanna. “Oy, sorry.”
“You’re letting your arms drop too far,” Crispin corrected Aubrey, still tense on his feet, swaying from side to side. “Economy of movement. Keep your stance tight.”
“I’ll keep your stance tight,” Aubrey growled, flowing back into attack position and thrusting at him. When he parried her blow she used her momentum to spin to the side, skirt flaring, and attack him from the back.
Lydia sidled back to set the tankard down on a bench and brushed her hand along Jack’s thigh. Madeline crossed her arms over her chest. Jack feigned fascination with the sparring match and scooted out of Lydia’s reach as Crispin swirled to block Aubrey’s back-hand slice at his arm. He made contact with her blade and twisted his sword around it, forcing her to retreat to keep from losing her weapon.
“You’re losing your center,” he shook his head.
“I know!” Aubrey grimaced in frustration at the same time that Jack muttered, “Bloody right!”
Crispin took advantage of her frustration and brought his sword up to attack her from the side. Aubrey let out a furious, high-pitched shout and wheeled her sword around, barely deflecting his blow. Madeline yelped as if she had been offended by the sneak attack and surged forward. Her eyes flickered to the side before she stepped back, wedging herself between Jack and Lydia. A sardonic grin curled her lips.
Crispin jumped away as Aubrey sliced at him, grinning now that he knew he was under her skin. He circled around to thrust at her shoulder. Lydia inched to Madeline’s side and trod on the hem of her kirtle. Aubrey parried with an angry grunt and spun to attack Crispin’s left side. He hit her sword away, swinging his blade around to try an overhead attack. Madeline jumped in excitement and her skirt ripped. She whipped to glare at Lydia as Aubrey and Crispin’s blades thunked together above their heads. Aubrey and Crispin twisted their swords around and attacked simultaneously as Madeline grabbed a fistful of Lydia’s loose hair and yanked. The swords clashed with bone-jarring force and Lydia yelped in pain. She whipped to glare at Madeline. Aubrey dropped her sword and smashed a fist into the side of Crispin’s face.
“I’m sorry!” Aubrey snorted as she tried not to laugh. Crispin raised a hand to his jaw, eyes fiery. “I didn’t mean it. Really, I didn’t.”
“I did,” Madeline sniggered to Lydia.
“Oh you did, did you?” Lydia swayed towards Madeline, eyes blazing.
Crispin threw his sword down with a loud clatter and lunged at Aubrey. Without a word he scooped her into his arms. Face grim as death he turned to Jack and muttered, “Excuse me,” before marching off towards the castle, Aubrey laughing too hard to do anything other than kick her feet in the air and pound Crispin’s arm as he abducted her.
Jack forced a laugh, eyes darting between the two women at his side, their claws out. What the hell was going on between them? He stepped between the two of them as Madeline opened her mouth to take on Lydia, grabbing both by the arm. “And that’s enough of that,” he muttered, voice low. He glanced over to Joanna, whose face was red as she bit her knuckles to keep from cracking up. At least someone thought this was a joke. He would never, ever understand women.
Lydia feigned calm and rested her hand on his arm as he walked them to the bench under the tree. Madeline’s face was flushed and she couldn’t bring herself to look anyone in the eye, especially not Jack.
“Now then,” he handed the ladies off to sit on the bench and pretended like the whole scene had never happened, “who wants to compliment me on how brilliantly I fight?”
Madeline opened her mouth but Lydia got the first word. “I was serious, my lord.” She sat forward on the bench and slid a hand up his arm, ignoring Madeline completely. “I want you to teach me to fight with a sword, like the Countess.”
Jack’s eyes flickered to Madeline and he had to concentrate to reply to Lydia. “I’m never a very good teacher. ‘Cept maybe dancing.”
“But you seem so accomplished,” Lydia barged over Madeline’s attempted reply. Madeline pressed her lips shut and cleared her throat as she folded her hands on her lap.
“Nah,” Jack brushed off the compliment. Madeline’s stony stare made him want to sink into the ground. “If you want to see me do something impressive then give me a few knives.”
“Shall I fetch you some from the kitchen, my lord?” Joanna couldn’t contain her giggle as she offered.
Jack crossed his arms in an imitation of Crispin as he scolded her with a glance. Joanna laughed and moved to stand behind the bench so that she could rest her back against the wall of the armory while she watched him struggle to smooth ruffled feathers.
“How do you fight with that bracelet?” Lydia scooted even farther to the end of the bench and reaching for Jack’s left arm. He let her take it and when she touched the beads of the rosary Madeline flinched. He swallowed as Lydia turned his wrist over and saw the crucifix tucked under the beads against his skin. “Oh! It’s a rosary! How quaint.”
“It’s my most prized possession.” Jack’s gray eyes flashed to Madeline.
A playful smirk lit Madeline’s face. “What, that trinket?” She relaxed back against the bench.
“Yeah.” Jack shrugged, pulling away from Lydia’s hands. “Got it from a nun I pulled from a tower. You’d be amazed how much trouble nuns get up to these days.”
Lydia narrowed her eyes and glared at Madeline as she figured out where the rosary had come from. “Why don’t you come inside now, my lord.” She got up and stood where Jack could view her to her best advantage, gesturing towards the castle. “You’re all sweaty and tired. I could draw you a bath.”
Madeline stifled an irate squeak beside him.
“Oy, look, about that.” Jack winced and stood, planting his hands on his hips. “I think it’s time I found you a better position in my household, mate.”
“What position did you have in mind, my lord?”
Madeline rose and stood where she could see Jack’s face, arms crossed, frowning as if she wanted to know the answer too.
“I dunno,” he shrugged, no idea why he felt as though he was in an argument he couldn’t win. “Come out to Kedleridge. I’m sure Simon will know where you’re needed.”
For an instant Lydia’s face flushed but before Jack could give it much thought she had lowered her lashes and was blink
ing up at him again. “Don’t you need me, my lord?”
“Well, I-”
“Don’t you need a true and faithful servant to see to your every need?”
“I mean, the castle has-”
“Don’t you need someone who is there for you to show you the respect that you deserve?”
“Oh please,” Madeline muttered.
Jack let out a breath, shoulders dropping.
“I would like to see Kedleridge.” Madeline now wore an over-bright smile where moments ago she had been frowning.
“Yeah?” He perked up. “I’d love for you to see it. Oy, you gotta meet Simon. You’re gonna love him. Runs the place like he was born doin’ it.”
“He was,” he thought he heard Lydia mutter.
“I mentioned you to him when I popped home the other day to check on things. I mentioned both of you.” He glanced back to Lydia. Her expression had gone blank and her cheeks were red. Funny, but Simon had had a similar reaction when he mentioned her to him. “Anyhow,” he brushed on, “I was plannin’ on spending at least one night out there before this Council of Nobles thing. You wanna come?”
“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Madeline nodded.
“None at all.” He stood there smiling at her, feeling the sunshine all the way to his bones in spite of the cool breeze that had his sweaty shirt sticking to his back. It lasted until Lydia cleared her throat, reminding him of his other responsibilities. “Oy, you wanna come too?”
Lydia sighed and glanced up as if she was considering. She brushed a hand through her hair, spreading it to catch the sunlight. “You’re too kind to me, my lord,” she said in a low, honeyed voice. “But no, I’ll pass this time. I think I can be of more use here.” She brushed her hand against his arm before smiling up at him and turning to sashay back towards the castle.
Jack watched her go, hypnotized by the sway of her hips, blonde hair bobbing against her back. He could bloody well see why the woman was happy to be in service. Hips like those shouldn’t be allowed to roam free.
Madeline felt a band squeeze around her chest as Jack watched Lydia walk back to the castle. She’d never really hated anyone until now. She couldn’t keep the emotion from her face when Jack turned back to her.
“Oy, what’s wrong with you?” he blinked. “You look like you swallowed a bee.”
For a moment she trembled with tension, poised on the edge of giving him a piece of her mind. Then she blew out a breath, shoulders dropping. “I’m just worried about you.”
A slow grin spread across his face. He took her hands. “You don’t have to worry about me.” He raised her hands to his mouth and brushed his lips over her knuckles. His moustache tickled, all the way down to places she blushed to think about. “Although I do sorta like it.” He tweaked an eyebrow in a mischievous arch.
She laughed in spite of her frustration. “I’m glad. Because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop worrying any time soon.” Her lips tightened as she glanced past him to the door where Lydia had disappeared.
When she looked back at him Jack was watching her with the same intensity as he’d been watching Lydia. It stopped her heart in her throat. The broad lines of his shoulders and the glimpse of his firm, smooth chest where his shirt hung open stood out in the sunlight. His hands holding hers were warm and powerful. She wanted to feel his arms around her, his lips on hers as they had been when he kissed her goodbye.
“Oy, I got an idea,” he spoke again as if nothing were out of the ordinary. “How ‘bout I go get cleaned up and we go for a walk.” She glanced up at him. “Somethin’ tells me Crispin’ll be too occupied for the next hour or so to deal with business. What say we take advantage of that?”
“I’d like that,” she breathed.
“Right.” He let go of her hands and turned to go. Just as quickly he turned back and leaned in to steal a light kiss on her startled lips. Then he winked and jogged off to the castle door.
Madeline let out the breath she’d been holding and touched her fingertips to her lips. Her heart was as light as a feather and her whole body tingled. Five minutes ago it had been as heavy as a brick. She dropped her hands and huffed out an indignant sigh. How could he indulge that strumpet the way he did?
“Men,” Joanna laughed as she stepped up to her side. “They don’t have a clue what they’re doing.”
She widened her eyes at the woman. “I think you must be right.” Her anger swung back full force and she crossed her arms over her chest, fists balled. “Who does that woman think she is?”
Joanna narrowed her eyes at the door Lydia had gone through. “You have a fight on your hands with that one. I’ve seen the likes of her. They collect hearts and wear them like a string of pearls.”
“I can’t believe Jack would be that … that stupid.” There was no getting around it. She loved him with all her heart, but her dear Jack was an idiot.
“He’s a man,” Joanna smirked. “Young or old, high or low, they all think with their little head.”
“Their little head?” She caught the reference a moment too late. “Oh!” She flushed scarlet and dropped her arms and her head. “Oh.”
“You have to fight to keep him on the straight and narrow, my lady.” Joanna took her arm and walked with her from the sunny practice yard towards the shadier gardens at the side of the castle. “You can’t let that witch put a spell on him.”
The pep talk had the opposite effect of what Joanna intended. “I can’t compete with wiles like that,” Madeline drooped. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
Joanna laughed. “Start with the fact that he loves you, not her.”
“Does he?” She chewed her lip and stared down at the rows of herbs they walked past.
“Oh dear,” Joanna smirked. “You have been in the convent too long if you can’t even recognize a man in love.” She was sure Joanna didn’t mean to make her feel miserable. “Plus you have a distinct advantage.”
“I do?”
“You’re going out to Kedleridge tonight. You’ll have him all to yourself. Just you wait and see what happens then.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to imagine.
Joanna was about to go on but a rustle from the bushes at the end of the garden and the clatter of gardening tools being knocked over hushed them both. Joanna gripped Madeline’s arm tighter and stepped forward to see what the noise was and defend her if she had to. A grubby man in stained clothes stumbled out from behind the bush.
“Toby!” Joanna dropped her arm and rushed to embrace the man. “Dear God, you smell awful!”
“I know,” Toby lamented, hugging his sister close, resting his head against the side of hers. He was near tears and wiped his face with the sleeve of his dirty tunic when Joanna held him at arm’s length. “I’ve been waiting for an hour for you to come out somewhere where I could see you.” He glanced past her to see Madeline. His bedraggled face split into a smile. “Sister Mary Peter! I’d heard a rumor that you were back in Derby.”
“Hello, Toby.” Madeline greeted him by taking his hands in spite of how dirty they were. “It’s just Madeline now.”
“Oh, I see.” He nodded as if unsure whether he should show her deference or not. His struggle was short-lived and he turned back to Joanna, eyes frantic. “Are you or Lady Aubrey planning on venturing out of Derby any time in the next few days?”
Joanna shrugged. “I don’t think so. There isn’t time to go to Windale and back before the counsel.”
“Good!” Toby breathed a sigh of relief. “Whatever you do, don’t leave the city or go anywhere near the forest.”
“What? Why?”
Toby pressed his lips together and sighed. “Ethan would flay me alive if he knew I was telling you this, but he has plans.”
“Plans?” Joanna arched an eyebrow, hands on her hips.
Toby wrung his hands. “He thinks that if he stops every carriage and caravan of nobles coming through the forest on their way to and from this emergency counc
il that Huntingdon will lose face. He’s sent missive after missive to London demanding that Huntingdon be removed as sheriff and be stripped of his titles and lands.”
“But why?” Madeline furrowed her brow.
“Well, he has it in for Huntingdon, doesn’t he, because old Buxton gave Windale to him.” He blinked as though it were as obvious as the sun rising. “And he thinks that because Huntingdon was appointed sheriff and earl by Prince John and not King Richard that the appointment and granting of lands and title was illegal.”
“No,” Madeline shook her head. “I mean, why is he pleading with London one day then attacking carriages the next? Isn’t that a contradiction.”
Toby sighed. “I don’t know, my lady. I wish I could defend his actions, but ever since….” He let his words drop and his heart drop with them. “The problem is, the outlaws that Ethan considers ‘his men’ have been doing far more thieving than Ethan knows about. I mean, I’ve tried to tell him, I’ve tried to tell him about Roderick, but these days he’s more interested in….” His face went red. “Well, never mind what he’s been more interested in. The forest is a very dangerous place right now.”
The three of them exchanged glances, none of them knowing what to do. Madeline swallowed, pressing a hand to her stomach. “Should … should we inform Sir Crispin about this?” she wondered aloud.
Joanna chewed her lip. “I’m sure he’s already on the alert.”
“There are soldiers all through the forest,” Toby confirmed. “But there are more and more outlaws joining in every day. Rough men,” he blanched. “Thieves and cut-throats most of them. Men who want a piece of the hoard.”
“The hoard?” Joanna smirked at what she assumed was her brother’s exaggeration.
“Don’t laugh,” he pouted. “There’s more gold and silver tucked away from all the highway robberies than, well, than I know I want to think about.”
