Noble Hearts 03 - The Courageous Heart (10 page)

“Thank you, your highness.” Relief wanted to explode through Joanna but sense told her it wasn’t time
yet
.

“You must understand, my dear,” the prince began again in a voice that proved she was right not to rejoice, “politics is a cruel business. It has nothing at all to do with who performs their job admirably or who has the best interest of the kingdom at heart and everything to do with who has the sharpest sword and the fattest purse.”

“But….” She
dropped her shoulders. She
couldn’t argue with him.

They turned onto a street that held large houses surrounded by high walls and gates. It was like a street of small castles lined side-by-side. The prince still walked as though he knew exactly where he was going.
He rapped on one of the gates. A sleepy boy rushed to open it. The prince
entered
and strode deep into the courtyard. Joanna followed him around the side of the house blocking them from the street
.

“If I could save your master I would,” he said before she could accost him again. He leaned close and whispered, “I never expected my brother to return from his foolish pursuit of glory. I was certain he would either die in battle or rot away in Emperor Henry’s dungeon. When I appointed Sir Crispin and Lord John and many others to their positions it was with the sincere belief that Richard would never return to challenge those appointments and that I would be king within a handful of years.”

Joanna gaped at the explanation.
Everyone knew there was no love lost between the king and the prince, but hearing it firsthand was brutal.
Her heart sank.

Prince John sighed and muttered,
“I am leaving for Normandy at once.”

“What?”

“I am
my father’s fifth son, my dear,” he drawled.
“
Richard is the fourth. Neither of us was intended to take the throne. That honor should have gone to our older brothers. But do you know what happened to them?”

Blushing at her ignorance, Joanna shook her head.

“They killed each other fighting for the crown. Yes,” he added when she widened her eyes in horror. “Richard and I were sucked in
to the struggle
as well, but we survived.
However
,
that doesn’t mean that my dear brother wouldn’t stick a knife in my back … or that I wouldn’t stick one in his,” he added with a twist of spite
in his eyes.

Joanna
gaped at the coldness of it all
.
She had loved her brother with her whole heart and she couldn’t imagine the level of animosity John spoke of.

“Richard is childless,” John went on.
“
From what I know I don’t see that changing. Which means that I will be King of England someday. If I can keep my head attached to my body. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

He n
odded and s
tepped closer to one of the out-buildings within the estate walls, a stable
.

“But my liege!” Joanna jumped after him. “What of my friends? Who will speak for them if you are gone? Can’t you do anything?”
Royal politics couldn’t be so cruel that men would abandon their friends over it.

“My horse has thrown a shoe. Bring me another one,”
Prince John
ordered the
stable hand that met him
with a ferocity that drove home
to Joanna
just how
cruel the royal world could be
. When the
stable hand
stumbled off
with the injured horse
Prince John
turned back to her. “The only thing I can suggest is that you turn to the other Derbyshire noble in London at present. He could advocate on your behalf.”

“
Not
Sir Stephen of Matlock?” Joanna balked.

“Yes, him.”

“But your highness
.
”
S
he g
rabbed his cloak in desperation.
“Matlock
would never help me. He
has
hated
my master
since Crispin became earl and
Jack
since
he
married his daughter.
Matlock
wants them dead.
He has blocked their efforts in Derbyshire for years and made no secret of his contempt.
He is probably the one responsible for the accusation of treason.
”

Prince John shrugged. “That may be the case, but whatever his personal vendettas are, Matlock owes his very existence to me.”

“I don’t understand.”

The prince glanced around to make sure they were alone. “
When thrones are at stake, my dear, r
uthless and ambitious nobles are useful arrows to have in one’s quiver. Matlock is eager to prove himself to me and even more eager to get his hands on what I’ve offered him if he succeeds.”

“Succeeds at what?”

A flush tinted
the prince’s
cheeks. “
My dear, I have no wish to involve innocents such as yourself in the dirty business of royal succession
.”

Joanna’s stomach flopped. She lowered her head. “Please, your highness. Aubrey and Crispin are like family. They’re all I have left.” Her voice faltered and in spite of her pride she broke down in tears.

Prince John was silent. He let her stand there and cry before resting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not a heartless man, my dear.” Joanna turned hopeful eyes up to him at the genuine emotion in his voice. “But there is only so much I can do.
I have to leave immediately
, but that doesn’t mean hope is lost
.
I don’t see my dear brother moving swiftly.
He’s too busy reliving old military glories and planning new ones.
As soon as it is safe I will come back and speak on Sir C
rispin and Lord John’s behalf
.
”

“
But Matlock-
”

“
Is a provincial lord with lofty ambitions,
”
the prince finished. “That is all. If you
tell him that I stand behind you, that I order him to aid you, and that I will grant him lands outside of Derbyshire if he does, then I’m sure he will help you.”

Joanna
very seriously doubted it. She
snapped her mouth shut
around a retort
and bowed her head in the lowest curtsy she could manage.
The stable hand returned with a fresh horse
.

“
Matlock
will
help
you if he knows what’s good for him,” Prince John assured her.
“
This is the estate of Arthur Pennington. He is staying here while in London.” Joanna’s stomach
twisted
at the revelation. She glanced up at the huge mansion. “I doubt either of them are up yet. Rest a while here and ask to speak to Matlock when he is presentable.”

“Yes, your highness,” Joanna whispered.

“I must leave now. I wish you success in your mission, my dear, and I will be listening for news of your master’s release.”

Without another moment of hesitation Prince John swept onto his new horse and kicked. The horse
galloped
through the
courtyard
and out into the city.

Joanna rose from her curtsy
, heart trembling now that she was alone again. She swallowed and glanced up at the frightening edifice of Pennington’s house.
It was tall and solid with wicked gargoyles carved all around the top. In spite of the prince’s assurances, the very thought of Matlock and Pennington
being protected by those gargoyles
chilled Joanna to the bone.

“You wanna wait?” the
stable hand
asked.

Feeling sick to her stomach, Joanna
nodded
.
The
stable hand
took her around the side of the
stable to a smaller courtyard
. The sight of
a glass house
in the garden beyond
, its windows fogged but still revealing dense green inside, almost distracted her from the carriages lined up against the outer wall.

She froze in her steps. Two of the carriages bore Windale
’s
and
Kedleridge’s
standards.

“Well come on,” the
stable hand
barked. “Don’t’cha wanna wait in the kitchens?”

“No, I’d like to wait outside, if you don’t mind.” She did a poor job of seeming casual. “Morning air is good for the lungs,” she added.

The
stable hand
sniffed and shook his head. He crossed back the way they came,
disappearing inside the stable
.

Joanna waited until he was out of sight before lunging towards the carriages.
She reached the Windale carriage first, throwing open the door and peering inside. Everything was exactly as it had been when they had left them at the Tower. Wulfric’s toy horse still lay on the seat
and the cloak Aubrey had discarded hadn’t been touched
.

She shut the door and skipped around the back of the carriage to where the trunks had been secured. Both of Crispin and Aubrey’s trunks were still strapped firmly in place. Jack and Madeline’s single large trunk was fastened securely to the back of their carriage. The carriages hadn’t been stolen to be looted.

With a tight breath Joanna touched Aubrey’s trunk.
All of her clothes were inside
.
She wrestled with the straps holding it to the carriage before she could second guess herself. Her fingers trembled but the straps loosened and fell away, one by one. The small trunk tipped into her hands. It was heavy, but she’d carried much harder loads.

Hefting the trunk into her arms, she stole a glance at Pennington’s house. The windows were dark and not a soul looked out to see her. She acted as fast as she could, gripping the trunk and scurrying back along the side of the building to the front gate. It was a minor miracle that the bewildered boy manning the gate in the early morning le
t her through without question.

She
broke into a run once she was free of the estate
.
Prince John may have had time to flee to Normandy and wait
things out
, but
she
didn’t. She would find another way
to win her friends’ freedom
.

Ethan jabbed
his
shovel into
a
pile of horse manure in The Stag Hunt’s stable with more force than he needed to. He frowned as he carried dung to a small garden wheelbarrow by the stable door.
For the hundredth time that morning, he checked
the open gate that led to the street in front of the inn. If
she knew what was good for her
Joanna would walk through that gate any minute.
I
f Toby had any idea what h
is sister was up to, he would….

Ethan
pushed the thought aside and rounded up
the last pile of filth from the stall
.

Joanna had floated into his dreams in every scenario imaginable in the last two years, but not this one. Any fool could see she was distressed, frightened even, because bloody Crispin and Aubrey and Jack had gone and gotten themselves locked up. They had some nerve. And now? Now he would have to stick his neck out to find out where they were being held and
if they really were in any danger
.
He doubted it.

He tossed his shovel aside and swiped a hand over his unruly beard before walking the wheelbarrow out to the garden. The nagging realization that with a little effort and a lot of sacrifice on his part he could walk into the White Tower and investigate hadn’t let him alone since Joanna had stormed off that morning. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was confident he could do what Joanna couldn’t. And he would too. Because he owed
Toby. Because he owed
her.

H
e
cursed himself and
started
back
towards the stable
.
Movement from the inn caught his attention.
Wulfric Huntingdon stood crouched against the
kitchen
doorpost, staring at him.
The boy’s pale face was dirty and his black hair stuck up at
odd angles. His tunic was rump
led and there was a wet patch on the front of his chausses. But it was his frightened blue-green eyes that stopped Ethan in his tracks.

He stood still, watching the boy who stared at him, no idea what to say. “Who’s meant to be minding you, boy?”

Wulfric didn’t answer. If anything he squeezed himself further into the corner between the kitchen door and the wall, his lower lip quivering.

“
Joanna shouldn’
t have abandoned you,
”
he scowled.

The boy said nothing. He gulped a breath, tugging at his tunic. The poor child was a mess. If Toby could see him he would….

Ethan
jumped into action. He strode forward to the kitchen steps, crouching until his face was level with Wulfric’s. The boy’s
lips quivered and his eyes lit
with
hope.

“Let’s see if we can’t get you cleaned up,”
Ethan
sighed.

He stood, scooping Wulfric into his arms. The boy stank of piss and other things Ethan didn’t want to think about. He pushed open the kitchen door and marched into the hot, noisy room.

“Who is supposed to be minding
this boy while Joanna is gone?”

The maids
didn’t pause in their work or even look at him
.

Bess
at least spared him two seconds to say
, “The inn is full of guests and they’re all hungry. If the boy’s nurse is gone he’ll have to mind himself.”

Ethan frowned. Wulfric grabbed hold of
Ethan’s
shirt and buried his fa
ce against his shoulder. A
full spectrum
of emotion assailed Ethan at once. The sweetness of the child’s gesture warmed his heart. The knowledge of
who he was turned it to stone.

“Does anyone have any boys clothes he can change into?”

“Doesn’t he come with his own?”
Ada
answered. She snickered over her joke with a third maid.

Scowling, Ethan turned and marched out of the kitchen into the courtyard. He thought women were supposed to care about children in distress.
Cursing them under his breath, he marched back to the stable and up a narrow set of stairs to his room on the second floor.

He
set Wulfric down and squatted to rummage through his trunk. “Joanna
knows better than to leave you alone
,” he mumbled half to Wulfric, half to himself. “
She’s always been headstrong, but y
ou are her responsibility, her duty. Toby never would have….” He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw.
It was as if his old friend had come to London with the rest of that Derbyshire lot. H
e took a breath and continued searching.

When he found a cake of soap
, a rag,
and an old shirt he lifted Wulfric into his arms and carried him back
out to
the well.

“You’re too quiet,” he told the boy as he sat him on the wide lip of the well. “I was never that quiet as a boy. It’s unnatural.
Although considering who your father is….
”
He clenched his jaw around the bitter thought.

He set the soap and shirt aside and worked to untie the fastenings of Wulfr
ic’s tunic.
“Joanna used to complain about how much noise I made
, but
she was just as loud as I
was,” he told the boy as if he would understand. “We used to drive Mother crazy,
caterwauling at all hours.
T
oby
would
….” He
sighed
.

Wulfric let
Ethan
slide
his tunic
up over his head and remove his shoes and miniature chausses and drawers. It had never dawned on Ethan that children dressed the same as adults. He always thought they were swaddled or something. Although not at this one’s age.

“How old are you?” he asked as he lowered a bucket into the well.

“Two and a half,
”
Wulfric answered.

Bone-numbing grief struck Ethan. The sounds of the battle,
the crackle
of fire licking the buildings of Kedleridge, of Aubrey crying out in labor as the sword was buried in Toby’s chest.
The hot, sticky smell of blood as he
had
crumpled, senseless, at Toby’s side.
The heat leav
ing his dearest friend’s body.

The wail of a newborn.

Ethan pulled in a shuddering breath and worked muscles weak with grief to pull the bucket of water up from the depths of the well. Unmindful of what he was doing he poured the water over the head of the naked child. Wulfric gasped and sat upright.

“Sorry,” Ethan choked, realizing what he’d done.

Wulfric glared at him, his eyes so much like Aubrey’s when she was in a temper that a short laugh escaped from him. At least his mistake had soaked the child. He dipped the rag in what was left of the water in the bucket and rubbed the soap through it. He hesitated for a moment, soapy rag in one hand. Were you allowed to wash another man’s child?

He rushed to scrub the rag over Wulfric’s back and shoulders. If they were stinky enough an
d no one else was there to do the job
, then the answer was yes.

The answer came to him in Toby’s voice.

Ethan swallowed and bathed Wulfric as fast as he could. He kept his eyes turned away just in case. When he was finished he drew another bucket of water and rinsed the boy, more gently this time. He’d forgotten to fetch a towel, so there was nothing to do but slip the boy into his old shirt soaking wet.

Wulfric looked ridiculous
, hair dripping,
in a shirt he wouldn’t grow into for another fifteen years.
He wasn’t complaining though. Ethan swept him into his arms and bent to pick up the boy’s soiled clothes. He took them as far as the laundry tub at the other side of the garden before heading back to the kitchen.

The maids had been no help at all, so he marched through to the hall and up the stairs to the room that Joanna and Madeline had been given. He knocked.

Rebecca’s voice answered, “Come in.”

Inside the tiny room
Madeline lay asleep, white as a sheet with red patches at her cheeks. A rush of anxiety curled through Ethan’s gut.

“There’s the little lord.
”
Rebecca smiled when she saw Wulfric.

Wulfric buried his face against Ethan’s shoulder.

“Is she dying?” Ethan croaked, nodding to Madeline.

Rebecca’s smile stayed firml
y in place. “Not any time soon
.
”
S
he
spoke
as much to the red-headed baby in her arms as to Ethan. “I see you’ve found
a friend
.
”

Wulfric clasped his arms around Ethan’s neck and lay his sleepy head against
Ethan’s
shoulder.
“Joanna abandoned him,” Ethan grumbled as the warmth of the child’s ready affection spread through him.

“Did she now?” Rebecca arched an eyebrow.

“Does he have any fresh clothes?”
Ethan sighed
.
He wasn’t in the mood for one of Rebecca’s thinly veiled life-lessons.

“No, but we’ll find something,” she answered
. She read
him enough to turn her attention back to the babe in her arms.

Ethan
bent to put Wulfric down. The boy
whined
in protest and clung to him. Ethan straightened awkwardly, perplexed that he had failed
to do something as simple as putting a child down.

“
You won’t be getting rid of him that easily
,” Rebecca chuckled.
“Nor his nurse, I’m thinking.”

Ethan sighed and lowered his head. “
Joanna
hates me. And with good reason,” he added in a mumble.

“Perhaps.” Rebecca shrugged, bouncing
Meg
in her arms. “But at least she feels something for you.”

Ethan’s frown darkened.
“I’m going to have to go to the Tower for her, to find out what happened to her friends.”

Rebecca’s lips quivered as though he’d just shared a grand joke. “And this is a great tragedy, is it? Your willingness to help
Mistress Dunkirke
in her hour of need
?”

Ethan stared at the floor, grinding the ball of his foot against the wood.
There was no way
Rebecca
could understand what going to the Tower represented to him. It was a door he
’d
never intended to open again.

Rebecca
took a breath. “You’ll have a hard time getting them to tell you anything at the Tower.” She leaned over to check Madeline as she stirred.

“No I won’t,” he muttered.
That was the problem.

He was spared the hassle of explaining himself at the sound of thumping coming up the stairs. Wulfric still in his arms, he stepped through the open door into the hallway. His frown doubled at the sight of Joanna. Her face was red and covered in sweat and she
struggled with
a trunk that was too big for her to be carrying in her arms.

His relief at seeing her in one piece was so huge that he barked, “Where did you get that?” before thinking better of it.

Joanna was far too winded to answer. Ethan put Wulfric down, successfully this time, and lunged to take the trunk from her. She let it go and
rested
against the wall. Wulfric ran to her and buried his face in her skirts as Ethan carried the trunk into the room. He set it on the floor as Joanna sagged into the doorway.

“Ethan
Windale!
” she panted
.
“
W
hat in God’s n
ame
did you do to this
boy
, drop him in the well
?
”

“Where have you been?” He
ignored her question and rounded on her, arms crossed
. “I’ve been wor
ried sick about you all morning!
”

“You lost your right to worry about me
five
years ago
!
”

He
opened his mouth
to reply but
Rebecca shushed them both
.
Madeline stirred on the bed. Ethan and Joanna froze in their battle stances. Rebecca laid a hand on Madeline’s forehead.

Ethan waited until Madeline had settled before saying, “The boy was filthy. I gave him a bath.”