by Merry Farmer
“Go on,” she gestured towards one of the tents. “Go test your faith in fidelity.”
He had a bad feeling he knew just what he would find as he approached the simple tent. Lydia wouldn’t have been grinning the way she was if she hadn’t found Madeline. He closed his eyes as he reached for the tent flap, praying she wasn’t dead. He could handle anything as long as Lydia hadn’t caught her and killed her. Holding his breath he opened the flap and stepped inside.
For a terrifying moment he thought his worst fears were realized. She was there, lying still, tucked against Tom’s side, her eyes closed. His gut wrenched in despair for half a second before her chest rose gently and fell again. She was asleep. He closed his eyes and let out a ragged breath. Madeline was alive.
He opened his eyes. She was alive and lying in the arms of his brother. A sharp flash of fury spiked through him. He swallowed it, biting the inside of his lip to keep from shouting. They looked so cozy together, so peaceful.
Tom stirred. His eyes rolled open as he took in a breath. He saw Jack and flinched. His mouth opened but before he could say anything Jack shook his head, raising a finger to his lips. Tom jolted, about to speak, but Jack shook his head harder, eyes blazing, holding out a hand for him to stop. He jerked his chin over his shoulder to the tent flap.
Madeline twitched awake at Tom’s movements. She blinked around in confusion and when she saw Jack she gasped. “J-”
Jack lunged for her, clapping a hand over her mouth. She shuddered, her eyes huge with fear. It took him a moment to realize her fear was caused by the ferocity in his eyes.
“It’s not what you think,” Tom whispered, barely audible.
Jack turned to him. “I know,” he nodded. He glanced back to Madeline. “I know.” Slowly he pulled his hands away from her. “Lydia is right outside the tent. Three guards. She knows you’re in here together. She’s using you against me.”
“Jack, you know I would never-”
He raised a hand to silence Madeline’s quivering plea. “I know.” His heart contorted in his chest. God, how he loved her! How could he drag her through all this God-forsaken muck that he’d lost himself in? “You have to get out of here. Whatever it takes. Get as far away from here as you can.” He looked to his brother. “Can you take care of her? Can you keep her safe?”
Tom stared at him, holding his breath. His eyes held all the alarm that the true question he was asking warranted. For the first time in a long time his brother understood him. With a blink Tom nodded.
Jack glanced to Madeline again. “I’m leaving you with the best man I know.” She stared back at him in confusion. He didn’t know what else to say so he reached for her hand and squeezed it before rocking back and turning to go.
“But Jack!” She grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Where are you going?”
His heart squeezed harder than any of the ropes that had been wound around him. “To do what I have to do.”
Chapter Fifteen
Madeline was too slow to react to Jack’s final words or to keep him in her grasp as he turned to go. He burst through the tent flap into the rain. “Wait!” She tried to crawl after him. Tom grabbed her around the waist and held her back.
“So?” she heard Lydia’s sickly sweet voice coo amidst the pounding rain.
“You’ve got a deal,” Jack replied. “I’ll marry you.”
Madeline’s heart stopped. Her hands and feet went numb.
“I’m so sorry, Jack,” Lydia’s tone was anything but. “Do you want me to have them killed?”
“No!” Jack answered as Tom flinched to hold Madeline closer. “I want you to drive them out.”
Lydia’s throaty laugh was followed by, “Get rid of them!”
The front of the tent ripped open. Two men with maces tore it apart to get to them.
“Run!” Tom shouted, hefting Madeline to her feet and pulling her past them.
She had enough time to see the guards, their faces twisted with violence, Lydia’s victorious smirk, and Jack turning his back to storm off. “Jack!” she shouted after him. “Nothing happened! You can’t let her do this!”
She tried to lunge after him but Tom held her fast, squeezing her wrist to the point of pain as he yanked her away. She resisted until one of the guards lost patience and took a swing at him. With a yelp she lashed out and slapped the guard across the face. His eyes flew wide, stunned at her audacity.
Tom didn’t wait to see how the guard or Lydia would react. He half lifted her off her feet as he pulled her to a run away from the scene. She spent one last spurt of effort trying to get away, glancing back over her shoulder at Jack’s retreating back, before giving up. Tears stung her eyes. She put all her energy into running.
They darted in and out of the rows of tents, jumping over spare baskets and bundles and dodging unaware people going about their business. It took several minutes, until they were well towards the edge of the camp, to realize that the guard following them wasn’t intent on attacking them.
Madeline skidded to a stop and turned to face the thug, her cloak spinning around her.
“What are you doing?” Tom demanded, stumbling as he changed direction to go back for her.
“I’m not leaving Jack!” she shouted to both him and the guard.
“You have to!” Tom grabbed her wrist as the guard reached for his sword. “They will kill you if you try to stay.”
“He’s right about that, missy.” The guard pointed his sword at her, his hungry grin missing several teeth.
“Run!” Tom shouted again.
There was nothing she could do against a brute with a sword but run for her life. She launched off again, racing with Tom to get away from the camp. Great choking sobs rose to her throat as tried not to stumble over roots and rocks. Tears all but blinded her as she dashed farther and farther away from the one thing she wanted in the world.
They didn’t stop until the sights and sounds of the camp were far behind them, until they were near to the road leading out of the forest to Derby.
“Why?” she demanded when Tom finally let them stop, sobbing and burying her face in her hands. “Why would he marry that witch? What does he think he’s doing?”
“I don’t know.” Tom doubled over, panting.
“He can’t marry her! He can’t.”
Tom didn’t give her the reassuring answer she was looking for. She stared at him as he rested his hands on his knees, dark hair damp with sweat around his face, waiting. He glanced up at her, eyes mournful, and straightened.
“There has to be more going on than we know about.” His words held no confidence.
She nodded anyhow, forcing her back straight and wiping her dirty, tear-stained face with the back of her hand. “We won’t know what to do next, how to get him out of this mess, until we know what’s really going on. Maybe Lydia threatened to kill Simon if Jack didn’t agree to marry her. Or maybe he’s doing it to give us a chance to get away.” The more possibilities came to her mind the calmer she felt. She steadied her breathing, squinting in thought.
“We should go to Derby,” Tom said as he wiped his forehead on his sleeve.
“Yes.” Madeline’s eyes brightened. “We need to get to Derby before they do.” Tom sent her a confused look. Her course of action was suddenly clear. “If Lydia wants Jack to marry her she’s going to need a priest to perform the ceremony. And if they can’t find a priest then-”
“They won’t be able to marry,” Tom finished her thought. A spark of hope lit his eyes. He grabbed her hand. “Come on. We’ve got to hurry.”
Whatever the wizened old woman was smearing on his back was like heaven and hell wrapped up together in one reeking package.
“This will help those cuts heal faster, my lord,” she explained when she saw his wrinkled-up nose.
“Yeah, well no offense mate, but it smells like shit.”
“You’re no spring daisy yourself, my lord,” the woman cackled.
Jack couldn’t help but laugh a
long with her even though it hurt. Everything around him stank of bitter irony, the sort you couldn’t face if you didn’t laugh at it.
After making a show of furious betrayal at finding Madeline and Tom together he’d let Lydia lead him back to her tent. The more angry and hurt he’d acted the more she’d fawned over him. He’d been given food and drink, a bath and clean clothes, secured the same for Simon, and all because he reacted like a jealous lover over her vicious trap. If only he felt like he’d actually escaped the trap.
“Oy, when you’re done with me take a look at him too,” he told the wise woman, nodding to Simon.
“I’m fine, my lord,” Simon brushed off his concern as he chewed a mouthful of lamb stew. He was dressed again, not in his own clothes but at least in something that looked warm and clean.
“Lift your arms, my lord, and I’ll just wind this bandage.”
Jack did as he was told, wincing as he reached his arms above his head while the wise woman wrapped a thick strip of linen around his torso.
“Don’t give me that look,” he grumbled at Simon. “You didn’t see what I saw.”
Simon straightened as if Jack had insulted his mother. “I don’t believe for one moment that Lady Madeline has an ounce of feeling for anyone other than you.”
“Neither do I,” Jack replied, lowering his voice to a murmur and glancing around for hidden ears. It didn’t make him feel a bit better to say it. “I was talking about the treasure. But now that you mention it, Tom’ll do a damn sight better at taking care of MP and making her happy than I ever could.”
“Do you believe that?” Simon stared at him, a spoonful of stew suspended between his bowl and his mouth.
“Yes!” He grimaced as the wise woman pulled the bandage tight.
“You’re full of shit, my lord.” Simon went back to eating.
“Yeah, well, we’ll see if you still think so once you see the great whopping pile of gold Lydia’s got. It’s enough to pay Derbyshire’s share of the king’s ransom with a bit left over to help people, mate.” Simon arched an eyebrow at him as if he were lying. “It’ll be enough to save mine and Crispin’s necks. King Richard would never take away what his brother gave us if we hand over that treasure to his cause. You’ll see. You’ll see when we get home.”
Home. The very thought of Kedleridge, of Derby filled him with relief and dread. All it had taken was a quick promise to marry Lydia and they’d been released, tidied up, and were well on their way to going home. Of course for all intents and purposes the ropes still firmly tied his hands.
“Aren’t the two of you looking smart,” Lydia hummed as she ducked into the tent, Roderick following her. She’d changed into another, drier dress, this one just as eccentric as the last one. Her hair was brushed but still wet and she wore a golden diadem, necklaces, and bracelets on both wrists. Roderick looked as much like a ragged murdered as ever. “How is my brave, handsome fiancé faring?” she asked the wise woman as she slid across the carpeted tent towards Jack.
Jack sent her a flat stare out of the corner of his eye, glad his arms were still up in the air and the wise woman blocked him from wringing her neck. Roderick shadowed her with his big knife, so hurting her would only get him killed anyhow.
“He needs rest and time to heal,” the wise woman snubbed Lydia. She glanced up to Jack to see what he thought of her impertinence. In spite of himself Jack winked at her. She grinned.
“There will be plenty of time for relaxation once we are home and cozy at Kedleridge.” Lydia waited until the wise woman was finished and Jack had lowered his arms to lay a hand on his shoulder and press herself against him.
Jack shrugged her off. “Oy, we gotta set some ground rules, mate.”
Lydia’s smile dropped. Simon set his bowl aside and rose to stand behind her. Roderick jerked towards him, warning him off with the point of his knife.
“What rules do you have in mind?” Lydia heaved a bored sigh, studying her bracelets.
“First, you don’t touch me.”
She huffed and lowered her hand. “Well that’s no fun.”
“You said you had no intention of being faithful to me, so go an’ get your jollies elsewhere, mate.”
She curled a pouting lip. “But how do you plan on having heirs, my lord?”
The concept of making babies with Lydia turned his stomach. “Who says I need ‘em?”
Lydia sighed and opened her mouth to retort, but Jack cut her off.
“Second, you don’t touch Simon.” Simon arched an eyebrow at Jack. Roderick’s eyes flashed with rebellion.
Lydia blinked, her expression shifting from startled to mocking. “What makes you think I would soil myself by touching him.”
Roderick sniggered.
“I mean you make sure that your goons know they are not to so much as look at him funny. He shows up dead or with so much as a splinter and I will kill you.” He punctuated his threat by staring right at Roderick. The young man scowled in return. Jack met Simon’s eyes. His friend’s face was as blank as ever it was.
Lydia, on the other hand, looked like he’d just made her eat dirt. “I have no intention of lowering myself to the point of noticing him!”
“Not good enough,” Jack shook his head. “Say that you will not harm him. Say it in words.”
She pursed her lips. “Fine. I will not harm Simon.”
“Or Tom or Madeline either,” he worked his expression into what he hoped was bitterness.
“Oh no, my lord.” She returned his look with a sly smirk. “I’ll leave them to you.”
“Good,” he nodded, heartsick at the charade. “Third, you put all that gold and all those jewels in as many carts as it takes and have it deposited in the treasury at Derby Castle.”
Her face hardened. She lowered her head with a frown, lips drawn in a tight line. He felt his command of the situation falter. A quick glance to Simon showed him his friend didn’t think she would take that particular bait.
“I’ll tell you what,” she took a breath and raised her head as Jack was beginning to really worry. “I’ll pack up the gold, nice and safe, and give it to you as a wedding present. It’ll be waiting in the churchyard when we walk out, man and wife.”
Jack spit a mental curse. She would make it as impossible for him to get out of the bargain as she could. He took his time replying, taking the linen shirt the wise woman offered and throwing it over his head. His frown landed on Roderick. The young man was just one of the army Lydia had at his disposal. He didn’t even know how many men she commanded yet. It could be six, it could be six dozen mercenaries. Until he knew he risked all of their lives every time he opened his mouth. At least Madeline was safe.
“Fine,” he muttered once the shirt was fastened and tucked in. “You keep your little hoard for now. But so help me, Lydia, if every last coin isn’t waiting outside that church then I’ll be the fastest widower in Derbyshire history. Do I make myself clear?”
“Very, my lord.” Her chest heaved as she took in a breath, her eyes fiery.
He turned away in disgust. “You said we can have horses to take us back to Kedleridge?”
“They’re ready and waiting.”
He nodded, pushing past her and motioning for Simon to follow as he stepped out into the dreary afternoon. A field of forest people waited for him along with five horses. Two of Lydia’s goons had already mounted and sat waiting. Jack sighed and turned back to her as she emerged from the tent.
“What, you didn’t think I was going to let you leave alone, now did you?”
“I take it they’re coming with us?”
“Of course,” she grinned.
He shook his head, starting towards the largest of the horses.
“Pack up the hoard and hide it. Set at least ten men to guard it and make sure they know their throats will be slit if they take so much as a farthing,” he caught Lydia ordering Roderick before parading towards one of the horses.
Simon sent his son a dark look. For a secon
d Jack thought he was going to say something to the little wanker, but he moved on, striding over to mount one of the horses.
At least the rain had stopped. It was the only good news he had so he stuck to it.
He was halfway across the space to his chosen mount when a girl broke away from the watching crowd and ran towards him. He smiled at her until he recognized her.
“Oy, come to steal somethin’ else from me?” He planted his hands on his hips and failed in his attempt not to glare at her. The girl paled in fear, freezing where she was. A twist of guilt made him feel worse than he already felt. He sighed, crouching to her level. “I’m sorry, alright? What’s your name?”
She inched closer, wariness painting her childlike features with an awareness of life far beyond her years. “Kitty.” She came to stand a foot in front of him and held out a hand, opening it to show his rosary. One or two beads were missing but it was still intact. Jack shot a look over his shoulder. Lydia was busy mounting her horse. He shifted the girl so that Lydia wouldn’t see her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Mama says I was naughty to take it.” She poured it into his hand when he offered it.
A lump caught in his throat. The beads felt smooth and cool, like drops of life against his sore palm. He closed his hand around it, bringing his fist to his lips and blinking back the tears that threatened to unman him. This small trinket was the most he was ever going to have of the woman he loved beyond reason.
“Thank you, Kitty,” he nodded, voice cracking.
“Don’t cry, Lord John,” she patted his hair like a favorite dog.
Oh God, he was going to fall apart completely. He couldn’t do this, he wasn’t strong enough. “Give us a hug then.” He swallowed, fighting to regain his composure. The girl smiled and threw her arms around him. He didn’t even mind the sting it caused. He rested his head against hers, letting out a shuddering breath. He kissed her forehead and held her at arm’s length.
