by Merry Farmer
Jack didn’t want to wake up. Life had taken a turn for the decidedly perfect. He was warm and at peace and naked in bed with Madeline curled against him. The softness of her breath tickled the hair on his arm as she slept, head resting near his shoulder. He didn’t even mind that his arm had fallen asleep and his hand had gone numb. The fingers of his other hand tangled with the beads of his rosary, nestled against her breasts. He could feel her heartbeat. It was the most beautiful moment of his life and he didn’t want it to end.
Madeline drew in a breath and stirred. She stretched, rolling to her back so that she could open her sleepy eyes and look into his. “Good morning.” She smiled, cheeks pink in the morning light.
“Best ever.” He shifted so that they could lay face to face. He brushed his fingers through her hair, unable to think of anything else to say. There was nothing else to say. There was nothing else in the entire world.
She returned his lazy smile, sliding her hand up his side and across his back. Her lips, already rosy and swollen from their long night, sought his. He closed his eyes and met them, kissed her with a slow contentedness that reached to the depths of his heart. He wasn’t in a rush. They had all the time they needed to make love and to love each other.
A hesitant knock at the door broke the illusion that they were the only two people in the world. He ignored it with a growing frown until Aubrey’s voice called, “Jack? Madeline? I think you’d better get up.”
“I’m already up!” he called back. “An’ you don’t need to get involved!”
Madeline burst into giggles and buried her face against his shoulder in a move that made his words truer than ever. He couldn’t resist tickling her to prolong the giggles, rolling her to her back and nibbling on her neck.
“I really hate to bother you,” Aubrey knocked again, “but Crispin thinks you should hear this.”
“Crispin thinks so, does he?” he murmured against Madeline’s throat, kissing his way along the rosary beads to her breasts. “I don’t really want to think about Crispin at the moment. I’m not interested!” he called over his shoulder, nudging Madeline’s legs apart as she giggled herself blue.
“It’s just that Toby showed up at the castle this morning,” Aubrey went on. “He was alone. Ethan’s gone missing.”
Jack stopped what he was doing with a frown and sat up. “Ethan’s missing?” he puzzled. Madeline shrugged and propped herself up on her elbows. “What do I care if the wanker has gone missing?” he hollered towards the door. “I got better things to worry about, mate!” He winked at Madeline, who was busy staring at his cock as though she was in the mood for sausage for breakfast. He crawled over her again and teased her by sliding himself against her hips.
“He found out about the money,” Aubrey refused to leave them alone. “Toby thinks he’s going to try to go after it.”
Jack sighed and slumped over Madeline. “She’s not gonna give up, is she.”
“It doesn’t sound like it.”
He grumbled and rolled to the side, getting up and looking for clean clothes. “Alright,” he glared at the door. “We’ll be right there.”
The bathtub was still in the room so he scooped out a few handfuls of water to wash with. Madeline got up and followed suit. She helped him get dressed and then he popped into her room across the hall to fetch a fresh dress and kirtle for her. They were cleaned up and downstairs in the Great Hall within a few minutes.
The Great Hall had been cleared of furniture but for a small table near to the fireplace. The castle servants were busy laying down fresh rushes. Their scent was almost enough to improve Jack’s mood after his precious new life with Madeline had been interrupted. Business was bound to take over at some point. He might as well get used to it.
Toby was seated at the table, cradling a mug of something steaming. Aubrey sprawled in a chair at the head of the table, her belly huge, tired lines on her face. Crispin paced in front of the fireplace with his usual charming frown while Tom stood at the far end, arms crossed, studying the floor. What surprised Jack was that Joanna was there as well, wringing her hands and looking as anxious and pale as her brother.
“Oy, what’s this party all about, mate?” He approached the table holding Madeline’s hand.
“Ethan’s gone missing,” Crispin told him.
“So I heard.” Jack arched an eyebrow at Aubrey.
She wasn’t in the mood. In fact, she looked as uncomfortable as a hen in a doghouse.
“He found out just how much money Lydia has stolen from him,” Toby filled him and Madeline in with a shuddering sigh. “He was angry that she’d kept the truth from him but even angrier that Lydia was going to hand it all over to you.”
“So?” Jack shrugged. “Crispin’s got the money now. It’s all up at Windale with a load of men guarding it. What’s he gonna do about that?”
Toby glanced to Joanna.
Joanna blanched and swallowed as her eyes traveled between Jack and Madeline. “He’s been living here at the castle for the past month. He broke his foot and I’ve been nursing him.”
Jack didn’t see how any of it mattered to him but his gut clenched in dread all the same. “Sounds like Aubrey should give you a right good tongue-lashin’ for that one, mate.”
“I already have,” Aubrey piped in from her chair. “Believe me.”
“So why’s everyone lookin’ like someone died?”
Joanna glanced down. Toby whimpered and took a sip from his drink to hide it. Crispin and Aubrey exchanged wary glances. Tom stared harder at the floor than ever.
“While I was taking care of him he was carrying on a correspondence,” Joanna paused and swallowed, “with Lord Stephen of Matlock.” She raised her eyes to meet Madeline’s.
“What does he want with my father?” Madeline feigned nonchalance.
“He still thinks he can get Windale back somehow,” Toby sighed.
“And he thinks that Matlock can help him,” Joanna added.
“And now he’s disappeared?” Jack narrowed his eyes.
“And you think he’s gone to my father?” Madeline asked.
Jack would have been tickled that she finished his thought if everyone else hadn’t been so grim.
“He was talking about it last night before we went to sleep,” Toby confirmed. “He believes that if he can secure Matlock’s help then he can get the money back. Once he gets the money he thinks he can give it directly to the crown for the king’s ransom and as a reward Richard will restore Windale to him.”
“What a load of shit.” Jack dropped his shoulders and shook his head.
None of them took the matter so lightly. Joanna drew a bundle of letters from the pocket of her apron and handed them across the table to Jack. “These are the letters Matlock sent to Ethan. They explicitly state that Matlock will do anything in his power to help Ethan so long as Ethan supports his bid to become the next sheriff of Derbyshire.”
Jack handed the letters over to Madeline. “I’m still not sure why we should be fussed about this.”
“Matlock has hired mercenaries,” Crispin told him.
“I know.” Sick dread twisted in Jack’s gut. “Madeline told me she saw them.”
Crispin nodded. “It’s not a great force but it’s enough to be a threat.”
“So what do we do about it?” The steel of determination pumped through Jack.
“We need to move the money to Derby Castle as soon as possible,” Crispin took charge. It was the two of them working together again. The others faded to the periphery. “The problem is that two of the four carts were damaged when they were moved to Windale yesterday. Lydia’s men loaded them too heavily and with the wear the carts had already experienced they broke down.”
“Then all we need to do is bring two or three new carts to Windale,” Tom surprised Jack by stepping into the conversation. “We can load the treasure and transport it here by sunset.”
Crispin shook his head. “All of the carts at Windale that aren’t being
used by the farmers were loaned to Kedleridge to help with the construction.”
“They’re just over the hill then.” Jack set to work on the problem. “We can unload ‘em, store the supplies an’ all, and drive ‘em over the hill.”
“It will be quicker than finding new carts,” Tom agreed.
“But it will still take time,” Crispin wavered.
“How fast is Ethan gonna be able to act?” Jack shrugged. “He’s got a broken foot, right?”
“It’s on the mend,” Toby answered.
Jack nodded. “It takes, what, half a day to ride to Matlock?”
“Four hours and twenty minutes,” Madeline informed him with grim certainty. “At a run, that is.”
Jack swallowed the urge to laugh. “Oy, someday you’re gonna have to tell me the rest of that story, MP.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “You both got a lot of explainin’ to do,” he smirked at Crispin.
“So she told you?” Crispin grinned in return.
“That I’m still Lord John of Kedleridge? Yeah, she told me alright.” He threw an arm around her and kissed her.
“When was Simon planning on telling Lydia?” Tom distracted himself from the show of affection by asking.
“I don’t know,” Madeline shrugged, holding Jack around the waist.
“Will she cause trouble when she finds out?” Crispin arched an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Jack, Madeline, and Tom answered in unison.
“Then we should leave for Kedleridge as soon as possible,” he finished.
“I’m coming with you,” Aubrey pushed herself out of her chair.
Crispin tried to force her back with a dark scowl. “You’ll do nothing of the sort.”
She pulled her back as straight as she could and walked to stand toe-to-toe with him. “I haven’t seen you in more than a month, Crispin. I am not going to lay around the castle while everyone else does their part to secure the king’s ransom!”
“I will not have you endanger the health of our child.”
“The baby isn’t due for another month!” She argued back. “I’m going with you and you can’t stop me.”
“Aubrey,” he scowled at her with the voice that sent everyone cowering. Everyone but Aubrey, that is.
“I’m going with you,” she replied with a ferocity to match his. The air fizzled between them for a moment before she took a breath and said, “Joanna can come with me to chaperone.”
“I can help as well.” Toby rose, pale and shaking. “I have to do something,” he pleaded when the others stared at him. His lip quivered. “I haven’t left Ethan’s side in twenty years. I won’t know what to do with myself if I’m left alone.”
The women’s expressions melted to pained empathy. Blast it, but Jack felt a lump in his throat at the mousy man’s comment as well. “Right,” he nodded, “We’ll find you somethin’ to do, mate. I’m sure the castle’s got a spare carriage or cart somewhere. Aubrey can ride an’ we’ll use that cart to help us transport the money.”
Crispin nodded, sending Aubrey a final frustrated glance before marching past her towards the stairs leading to the gallery. “Come on then,” he spoke over his shoulder as Jack and Tom rushed to catch up with him. “We should get this taken care of as quickly as possible.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lydia refused to allow herself one moment of doubt. Madeline and Jack would pay for what they’d done to her. She would kill them with her bare hands if she had to. Simon she would save for something worse than death. She didn’t pause for one moment as she rode the horse she’d stolen from Kedleridge’s stables around the bend into Matlock. When she saw the scattering of tough, armed men chatting amongst themselves on the green, pestering Matlock’s villagers, the vengeance that had been simmering in her gut burst into a smile. This was exactly what she was looking for.
She pulled her horse to a stop in front of the impressive manor house. The men closest watched her with hungry curiosity as she dismounted and dashed towards the great front door. She noticed a carriage draped with Plantagenet colors parked by the side of the road but didn’t give it a second thought.
“Let me in!” she demanded of the sentries at the front door. “I need to speak to Lord Stephen immediately.”
The sentries exchanged wary looks. “What’s with half the shire showin’ up on our doorstep demandin’ to see Lord Stephen these days?” one asked the other.
“Somethin’ going on that we don’t know about?” the other replied.
The first one shrugged. “Isn’t there always?”
The two men chuckled. Lydia huffed with impatience. “If you’re not going to let me in then move aside so I can let myself in!”
“We need raises,” the first sentry continued to chuckle.
“Yeah, this goes above and beyond the call of duty.”
“I dunno,” the first one smirked. “She’s a hell of a lot prettier than the other two.”
“Let me in!” Lydia shouted, ready to wring both of their necks.
She was spared the inconvenience as the door opened. A lady dressed in fine brocade, in her middle years but looking old and wan, glared at all three of them. “What is the meaning of all this racket?”
The lady bore a distinct resemblance to a certain nasty, prickle-haired ex-nun. “My lady,” Lydia curtsied deep, swallowing the bile that rose to her throat at the gesture. “Please, my lady, I need to speak with Lord Stephen at once. It’s a matter of life and death.” She hoped the expression she summoned up was close enough to desperation to move the sour old woman.
“Lord Stephen is busy,” Lady Matlock mumbled, lowering her eyes. “He is entertaining an emissary from London.”
“But that is what I’ve come about,” Lydia bluffed. “I’ve come with news that Lord Stephen and the emissary must hear. It’s about the king’s ransom.”
Lady Matlock sent an anxious glance over her shoulder, holding her breath as she made up her mind. Worry and fear lined her face. At length she gave up and said, “Come inside.”
Lydia all but burst through the door into the main hall. The hall was empty but she could hear voices and see the glow of a fire coming from one of the side rooms. And to her great surprise, Ethan sat on a bench outside of the door, his foot propped on a stool.
“What are you doing here?” She ignored Lady Matlock and charged across the hall.
“I could say the same about you.” He wasn’t remotely happy to see her. “What did you do with my money?”
“Sir Crispin has it,” she spat at him, speaking loud in the hopes that Lord Stephen and the emissary from London would overhear.
The effect on Ethan was instantaneous. His back shot as straight and hard as it could with his foot up. “Huntingdon?”
She tried to keep the light of triumph from showing in her eyes. With emotion that strong at the mere mention of Sir Crispin’s name Ethan would be easy to manipulate. “Yes!” she shouted as though she shared his hatred. “And he has his army guarding it!”
“What is going on out there?” Matlock’s voice boomed from the side room. Lydia breathed a sigh of relief, her pulse racing as he opened the door and stepped into the hall with them. His eyes shot to his wife’s. “I told you we were not to be disturbed!”
Lady Matlock shrank back, mumbling, “She says she’s come on a matter of life or death.”
Matlock’s fierce eyes snapped to Lydia. “What matter of life or death?” He followed with a sharp order to his wife. “Get out!”
Lydia felt no pity as the woman rushed out of the hall. “I’ve been tricked,” she revealed and moved on. “I was in possession of a small fortune, enough to pay Derbyshire’s portion of the king’s ransom with some to spare. I turned the money over to Lord John of Kedleridge and he gave it to the Earl of Derby. They have it all at Windale right now.”
Matlock stared at her with a suspicious frown. “How can I believe you?”
“I’ve seen it,” Ethan joined the conversation, struggling to stand. “She
’s telling the truth, but the money is mine. My men gathered it in the forest. She stole it from me.”
“The outlaws?” Matlock glanced between the two. “How much money are we talking about here?”
“Six or seven thousand marks at least.”
The clang of someone dropping something was followed by a man’s voice exclaiming, “Seven thousand marks?” A moment later a man with a fine tunic stretched over a portly belly squeezed into the doorway with Matlock. He had an oiled mustache and goatee and piggy eyes. Lydia recognized him from the banquet at Derby Castle ages ago. Pennington, the emissary of the crown.
“The earl is holding your money hostage,” she guessed at the man’s motivations. “He plans to send it to London himself, completely bypassing you.” Maybe it was true.
“It’s my money!” Ethan insisted.
“How dare he!” Pennington took the bait, disregarding Ethan.
“It’s all Lord John, or should I say that peasant Jack Tanner’s idea,” she snapped her eyes back to Matlock. She could already see the knives being sharpened in his eyes. He wouldn’t need much pushing at all. “He tricked me into relinquishing the money. And then he married your daughter.”
“He what?” The fury in Matlock’s eyes was all the proof she needed that vengeance was about to rain down.
“Your daughter Madeline has married Jack Tanner. You have a peasant for a son-in-law,” she drove the dagger in deeper.
“Jack and Madeline were married?” Ethan blinked at her.
“The insolent dog!” Matlock growled.
“Yesterday,” Lydia fed into the story. She could taste victory.
“Then they will be buried tomorrow!” Matlock balled a fist, his face and neck red.
“Yes, but what about the money?” Pennington was far less passionate.
“I have men,” Lydia worked her way around to the plot she and Roderick had formed. “Outlaws from the forest. There are almost two dozen of them. With the mercenaries you have outside we could form an army.”
“If you capture or kill Huntington in the process then I can regain Windale,” Ethan joined in with enthusiasm.
