by Merry Farmer
“Because….” To her surprise he blinked up at the ceiling as if he, Simon McFarland, would cry. He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “Because for me the position comes with blood on it.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
He dropped his shoulders and his head. “Roderick, my son, my only living child believed his whole life that I was the rightful lord of Kedleridge. He … Lord Hugh did not treat him well. He didn’t treat anyone well,” he admitted with a sigh. “Roderick continually spoke out about how I should be lord. He spoke out too much and was punished. And then one day I came back from overseeing the planting to find my son with a knife stuck in my father’s throat.”
Madeline gasped, covering her mouth as tears sprung to her eyes.
Simon rubbed his forehead and went on. “He said that he’d killed Lord Hugh so that I could take my place as rightful lord of Kedleridge. He did it for me. He killed a man, a lord, my father, for my sake.” He swallowed. “When I brought him to justice instead of taking control of the estate as he’d intended he turned on me. That’s when he escaped and ran away. The shock broke his mother’s heart and she-” He choked on the words, blinking and turning away. Madeline’s tears burst. Simon recovered enough to finish. “I wish he’d never been caught, my lady, but I can’t change what he did. I … I care very deeply for Jack and for you. More than you can imagine. But if somehow you are suggesting that I attempt to usurp Jack, no, I will not. He is the rightful lord by royal decree.”
A wave of desperate anger turned her tears to frustration. “But you’ll flirt with Lydia? You’ll do that! Are you and she lovers?”
“We were,” he confessed in a hush.
“How could you?” His admission enraged her.
He glanced up to meet her eyes. “We were barely more than children. Lydia knew I was Lord Hugh’s son, that there was a chance I could be raised to the title. I was young and … curious and she was willing and ambitious. It was Constance that I really loved. Constance was so beautiful and good and Lydia was so … Lydia.” The shame flickering in his eyes told Madeline more than any words could. Her anger ebbed. “I was weak and I’ve paid the price for it. I’m paying it still.”
Madeline shook her head to clear the frustration of a situation she barely understood. “Then why are you stooping so low as to flirt with her now?”
“I have been baiting Lydia,” he replied, “in the hope that she will leave Jack alone. She’s always wanted me. She still thinks I’m the one with the power and that Jack is an idiot. If I distract her then maybe she will only go so far as to marry Jack for his title. My hope is that if I,” he couldn’t meet her eyes, “if I become her lover again then she will leave Jack free to be yours.”
The possibility stirred a longing deep in Madeline’s core. Perhaps they could get away with that. As soon as she felt the temptation to give in to that sort of compromise her heart rebelled. She shook her head, back stiff with defiance. “No. I won’t agree to that. Don’t you see, Simon, that’s not good enough! I refuse to let her win. She cannot have any part of Jack! He’s mine!”
Simon sighed, his shoulders sagging. “My dear, you sound very much like another woman we both know.” He glanced up. The comparison made Madeline sick to her stomach. She backed away. “There are duties Jack must fulfill that mean so much more than what you or I want, my lady.”
“All this because a clever whore stole a pile of money in the forest and hired a few bullies with swords to guard it,” she huffed a bitter laugh. “Are we really that weak?”
“We wouldn’t be if the Earl hadn’t left Derby with most of the army.”
Madeline blinked. She sucked in a breath and glanced up at Simon. “Do you think Sir Crispin has enough authority to dispossess Jack in favor of you?”
“My lady,” Simon scowled, “I told you no.”
She waved him off, shaking her head and pacing as the ideas came to her faster than she could grasp them. “He wouldn’t have to do anything, but do you think he has enough authority to appoint you lord?”
Simon stood straight and silent, watching her as she chewed her lip. “I don’t know, my lady. I honestly don’t. It’s possible. It depends on the terms invested in him with the Earldom.”
“Do you think Lydia would believe that he had that kind of power?”
He sucked in a breath. “I believe she would.”
Madeline stopped pacing and stood face to face with him. “Would you be willing to pretend that you were the rightful lord of Kedleridge?”
His jaw dropped open and he stared past her, eyes flashing as he caught on to her plan. “Yes, I would.”
“And,” she swallowed, flinching at her ruthlessness, “do you think that if you offered to marry her and give her the title and all that she would still hand the money over after the wedding?”
He drew in a breath, his face hardening with resolve. “I would force her to agree to those terms.”
For a moment they stared at each other. The air in the room sizzled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t want to make you do this, but-”
“You’ve no need to be sorry, Madeline.” A sad smile softened his features. He raised a hand to cradle her face. “You remind me so much of her, so much of Constance. She would have loved you as if you were her own. She would have wanted me to do this. For you.”
Madeline let out a shaky breath. “Where is Crispin? Does anyone know where he is right now?” She rushed past Simon into the hallway to keep herself from breaking down. She had a job to do.
“Jack had a letter from him this morning. The messenger that delivered it was wearing Matlock’s ensign.”
Madeline froze and whipped around to face him, all color leaving her. “He’s at my father’s house?”
Simon laid a hand on her arm. “My lady, would you like me to come with you?”
Her gut felt as though it was filled with a thousand snakes. She shook her head. “No, Simon. If I have to go to my father’s house, if that’s the only thing that will save Jack, then I have to go alone.”
“But I would willingly go with you if you need me.”
A wave of affection like nothing Madeline had felt for anyone save Jack surged through her. She turned back and threw her arms around Simon, hugging him as though it was revealed that he was her true father and her life in Matlock had been a lie. When she broke away to charge off on her mission she was too choked up to speak.
“My lady,” he called after her as she dashed down the hall. “If you are not back by tomorrow, if Matlock lifts a finger to harm you, I will come get you and bring you home.”
Chapter Nineteen
A small crowd turned up in the street outside of Derby Castle in the soggy morning to watch the two carriages bearing Plantagenet standards being loaded. Jack stood between the crowd at the gate and the carriages with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Silly though it may have looked, he wore two swords in his belt, both positioned in such a way that at a moment’s notice they could be drawn and ready. The men Pennington had brought with him to load and drive the carriages watched him with anxious glances. They figured Lydia’s guard was there to intimidate them and not Jack. For once Jack was glad of it.
“I would like to thank you for the splendid hospitality you have shown me during your visit.” Pennington appeared at the top of the castle stairs with Aubrey. The bastard had the gall to grin at her as though she had invited him for a garden party.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Aubrey sent him a sardonic grin in return, one hand holding her enormous belly as she waddled down the stairs. “We won’t be able to afford to entertain anyone for a long time to come.”
Pennington laughed as if her words were a joke. He didn’t even offer an arm to help her down the stairs. Not that Aubrey would have accepted it. Jack left his position and strode across the courtyard to escort her down the last few steps and across to the carriages. Pennington balked at the sight of him. Good.
“Do
you have the account record, Pennington?” He managed to tower over the man while escorting Aubrey.
“Yes, uh, I must have it here somewhere.” Pennington fumbled through his tunic. “Let’s see, where did I put it?”
Jack exchanged glances with Aubrey. “Right!” he raised his voice while maintaining his noble accent. “Unload the carriages! Take the money back to the treasury to be counted!”
“No, no, no!” Pennington trembled and laughed nervously. “That won’t be necessary.” He jogged to the first carriage and gestured for his page to open the door. He stuck his head inside and pulled a small chest from under the seat, throwing back the lid and sorting through it.
“I swear to God I will have that man’s hide someday,” Jack mumbled to Aubrey as they followed on Pennington’s heels.
“Not if I get it first,” her frown turned into a wink when their eyes met.
“Here it is, here it is.” When he turned around to find Jack and Aubrey feet away from him he jumped and gasped. “How … how foolish of me,” he barked a nervous laugh and presented Jack with a rolled piece of parchment.
Jack let Aubrey’s arm go long enough to snatch the scroll from him. Pennington snapped his hand back as though he’d handed the parchment into the jaws of a rabid dog.
Jack unrolled the parchment and read. “Halston, business has delayed me,” he over-emphasized his accent to hide his slow reading, “and as I shall be making a detour before returning home, please see to the following.” He lowered the parchment and glared at Pennington. “This is not an accounting of the money you’re taking from Derby.”
“Isn’t it?” Pennington took the parchment from Jack. When Jack then proceeded to reach for his swords Pennington yelped and spun to fish through the small chest again. “This is it! This is it I swear, my lord!” He swung back around to present Jack with another slip of parchment. “So sorry for the … the mix up.”
Jack swiped the second parchment and swallowed the look of triumph that wanted to break out on his face as he read it. The bloody fool thought he could pull one over on him and was practically pissing himself because he couldn’t. It was a tiny victory, but he’d take it. “Good,” he nodded. Pennington sighed in relief, his shoulders going slack. “Now I want you to have someone at the royal treasury sign this parchment and send it back to me as proof that every cent you have taken has gone where it should. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly, perfectly, my lord.” Pennington took the parchment and nodded. “Now if you’ll excuse me, we really should get going.” He backed away, hitting the carriage step that his page had lowered and wincing. He turned and scrambled into the carriage as if his life depended on it.
“Well that’s something I never thought I’d see!” Aubrey exclaimed as they stepped back while Pennington’s servants prepared to leave.
“What, me gettin’ things done?” Jack dropped back to his regular accent.
“No.” Aubrey tried to hide her grin as Pennington’s carriage lurched forward. “I never thought I’d see the day that Arthur Pennington called you ‘my lord’! What did you say to him?”
Jack smirked. “It weren’t so much what I said as how I said it.” He patted the hilt of his sword.
His smile dropped as soon as the carriages rolled through the gates and out into the city. The courtyard felt as empty as it ever had. Jack turned worried eyes to the castle servants watching from the top of the stairs and the higher balconies and windows, then looked to the crowd of people still hanging around the front door. Time was almost up.
“Alright, Aubrey,” the last of his humor vanished, “where did you an’ Madeline stash the priests?”
“Oh come on, Jack,” Aubrey’s smile was too tight to be genuine. “Let’s not talk about that now. Let’s go inside and have a snack.”
She tried to walk on but he caught her by the arm to stop her. She was on the verge of spewing some other kind of excuse when something else caught Jack’s attention. Tom emerged from the crowd outside the gate, heading towards them. Jack twisted around, looking for Madeline. If he could pin her and Aubrey down together then maybe they would finally see reason about the priests. But Madeline was nowhere.
“Oy, what’d you want?” Jack’s heart plummeted when it became clear Madeline wasn’t there.
“I want to talk to you,” Tom answered as he approached.
The guard Lydia set to watch him closed his hand over his sword and growled at Tom.
“Oy, cool it, mate,” Jack scolded him. The man had been in a bad mood since he had given him the slip the day before. Jack turned his attention to Tom. “What do you want to talk to me about?”
To his surprise, Tom blushed and stared at the cobblestones, his jaw working around words that were having a hard time coming out. Jack glanced to Aubrey, but she only shrugged.
He was just about to lose patience when Tom blurted, “I want to help you.”
Jack blinked. Tom dragged his eyes up to meet his. He meant it. Tom really wanted to help. “What do you want to do?” he asked, unable to think of anything better to say. Tom shrugged. “Aren’t you still chummy with Ethan? What does he have to say about all this?”
“Ethan can go hang himself,” Tom spat. As soon as he’d said it his face flushed deeper and a look of misery clouded his eyes. Whatever the hell Ethan had done to upset his brother, it’d been bad.
Jack exchanged another glance with Aubrey before asking, “Where’s Madeline?”
Again Tom answered by shrugging. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen her since yesterday afternoon.”
Jack struggled to tamp down the panic that rose in his gut. “You don’t know?” He wrestled with the urge to throttle his brother or run off in search of Madeline. Wrong though it was, there were more important things to deal with first. “Do you know where them two are hiding all the bloody priests?” To his surprise Tom nodded. “Bloody hell,” he scowled at Aubrey. “So everyone knows where they are but me?”
“Now Jack,” Aubrey began, rubbing her belly as a form of self-defense.
Jack ignored her, turning back to Tom. “I only need one, mate. Just one. Where are they?”
“At Morley,” Tom mumbled, staring at the ground.
“Tom!” Aubrey snapped at him, proving he was telling the truth.
A chill passed through Jack. It didn’t feel nearly as good as he hoped it would to know he was doing the right thing and to finally have the means to do it. “Will you ride out with me to get them?” he asked Tom.
Tom raised his head to meet Jack’s eyes and nodded. Jack nodded in return and jerked his head towards the stables. The two men marched off to have horses saddled.
“Wait! Jack! No!” Aubrey chased after them as fast as she could. “You can’t do this!”
“Aubrey, I don’t want to get into this with you.” Jack didn’t break stride.
“But you can’t marry Lydia, you can’t!” She tried to grab his arm but he shook her off. “Don’t do this! Think of Madeline!”
His stomach and chest burned at her plea but he couldn’t answer her. He couldn’t even look at her. “You comin’ too?” he barked at the guard who had jogged after them.
“Yes, my lord.” The guard didn’t seem too happy about things either.
“STOP!” Aubrey hollered as they reached the stable doorway.
Jack froze in his steps and shut his eyes. He swallowed the pain in his throat and opened them, nodding to Tom to go ahead and ready their horses. When he spun to face Aubrey tears were streaming down her face.
“How can you go ahead with this, Jack? How can you do this to her?”
He took a breath but the words still didn’t come when he opened his mouth. He swallowed and took another breath before he was able to say, “We just sent all the money in Derby to London. Crispin hasn’t collected enough to make up the difference of Derbyshire’s portion of the king’s ransom. I can’t think of my own happiness when I have it in my power to provide for everyone in the shire.”
“Aubrey! Enough!” His noble accent came out of nowhere. “Thank you for trying, but you have to let me do this now.”
She took a step back. Anger and pity and sadness contorted her face. “You helped me when no one else would, Jack. All I was trying to do was help you in return.”
“I know,” he nodded. He couldn’t face her anymore, not if he was going to do this without bursting into tears like a girl, like Madeline. A laugh snuck up on him as he turned and marched into the stable. Madeline always had a crying fit whenever her emotions were high. He loved it and hated it at once. She would probably cry for days when she found out Tom spilled the beans about the priests. She would also forgive Tom. If only she would forgive him.
The horses were saddled and ready and in no time Jack, Tom, and the guard were mounted and on their way out of the castle.
“Right,” Jack’s accent was back to normal. “Let’s get this done.”
Matlock was no easy ride from Kedleridge. It was miles away and Madeline had to gallop through the dark along winding roads and over hills. She pushed on as long as she could until her horse threatened to give out under her. Then she found an obliging copse and tied her horse to a bush while she collapsed on the damp ground and slept.
When she awoke to a groggy, misty morning her sense of purpose jolted her to full wakefulness. She mounted her wary horse and shot off along the road that wound ever closer to the River Derwent and Matlock, closer to the manor that would never be her home again if she had anything to say about it.
The sight that met her when she rounded the last bend sent a bolt of fear through her. Memories of the time when she called this place home, or her father’s wrath and her mother’s cowering, shook her. They weren’t the only things that threatened to break her resolve. A dozen or more campfires were set up in rows in the field leading up to the great manor house. Enough horses rambled in a make-shift corral to saddle a small army. She knew her father didn’t have that many vassals or any kind of a personal army. At least she didn’t think he did. But all of the men couldn’t be Sir Crispin’s.
