Noble Hearts 03 - The Courageous Heart (20 page)

Joanna let out a breath and rubbed her eyes. It didn’t matter how hard she tried to get away from it or find another way, every road led back to the same problems. Prince John had advised her to seek Matlock’s help. Aubrey had pressed her to convince Ethan to help. Now it seemed that Lucy was advocating for Pennington. Everywhere she turned the choices were bad
and their allies were worse
.

“Thank you, Lucy. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“I wish I had a better answer,” she replied, patting Joanna’s shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will.”

Lucy nodded and went on her way. Joanna shifted on her spot, looking for what to do next. The
nobles that had gleefully watched the execution stood around the
yard
socializing. Tower
servants
scrubbed
the platform and the block, as if preparing for the next victim. That victim wouldn’t be anyone she cared about.

She turned away, setting out for the house where Aubrey was being held. The guards in the front room sat straighter when she entered. One of them stood.

“I’m here to see Lady Aubrey, Countess of Derby,” she announced.

“She’s to have no visitors,” the standing guard sounded too much like his fellow at the gate
as he scanned her from head to toe with a hungry grin
.

Joanna went out on a limb. “Pennington said I could.”

The effect was instant. The seated guards sat at full attention. The standing guard
lost his grin and
searched over her shoulder, as if Pennington were right behind her.

“Alright then,” he caved, “but you’ll have to be quick.”

The success didn’t make Joanna feel a lick better, even as the guard led her up the stairs and down the hall to the room where Aubrey was being held. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Joanna took a step into the room then stopped, jaw dropping.

The room had changed. Rich tapestries hung on the walls. The paltry furniture had been replaced by pieces of such beauty that it was a surprise they weren’t in the king’s throne room. The bed was now hung with rich burgundy curtains and piled with pillows. The rickety table and chairs had been replaced by a marble chess table and two upholstered chairs. Aubrey sat in one reading. She was dressed in a gown finer than the one Queen Eleanor had worn at the audience.

When she saw Joanna, Aubrey threw down her book and stood. “Dear God, Joanna!” She ran across the room and threw her arms around Joanna.

“My lady!” Joanna managed to breathe. “What is all this?”

“Pennington,” Aubrey answered, waving it away. “Just ignore it. How is Wulfric? Is he well?”

“He misses you.” It took Joanna several seconds to drag her eyes from the room’s sumptuous fittings to focus on her mistress. “They’re taking good care of him at the inn. Madeline is doing much better as well.”

“I know. Ethan told me.”

Aubrey suddenly had her full attention. “What? You’ve spoken to Ethan?”

“Once. I was allowed to attend one banquet hosted by the king,” Aubrey said. “It didn’t go well.”

If ever a handful of words was inadequate to explain the fire in Aubrey’s eyes, those were the ones.

“Has Ethan been giving you my letters?” she rushed past whatever story was not being told.

Aubrey shook her head. “No. He told me you had been writing, that he had been bringing the letters to the Tower, but it’s clear they aren’t being delivered. And even though Pennington has brought me everything north of Paris that he can think of to woo me
,
he won’t bring me pen and paper. And after the banquet he won’t let me out of this room, King Richard’s guest or not.”

“My lady, he’s dangerous.”

“Don’t I know it! But never mind about Pennington. How are Crispin and Jack? What’s happening to them?”

“I don’t know,” Joanna fretted. She glanced to the door. The guard leaned against the wall in the hall opposite the doorway, picking at his nails.

“Ethan doesn’t know either,” Aubrey sighed. She started pacing across the bright carpet that now lay on the floor.

Joanna balled her fists at her side. “He didn’t tell me he’d spoken to you. The bastard! Every night I’ve asked him for news
, practically begged,
and he’s tol
d me nothing!
”

“In his defense, and I can’t believe I just said that,” Aubrey
rolled her eyes
, “I don’t think he knows anything.”

“He’s supposed to be finding out,” Joanna growled.

“Well, from what I saw, the king is more interested in making him recount stories of the crusade and seeing who can drink a flagon of wine first than talking about his prisoners.”

Aubrey’s answer didn’t make her feel an inch more inclined to forgive him.

“My lady, we’re running out of time. We have to do something to have Crispin and Jack released soon. I just watched a man being executed in the courtyard.” Her voice wavered as she spoke.

Aubrey blanched. “
I heard it. But
Ethan is the only person I can think of besides Prince John who is in a position to influence the king on our behalf.” She continued pacing. “There has to be some way to
get through to
him, something he wants
in exchange for his support
.”

Joanna pressed her fingertips to her forehead. The memory of the kiss she and Ethan had shared flared brightly in her mind. The attraction between them had been so strong, no matter how hot her anger flared. His feelings for her were as clear as they ever were. Even David could see that.
And her feelings for him … were not something she wanted to think about.

She swallowed her helplessness and let her thoughts turn to the exact thing she’d been avoiding. She’d tried pleading with Ethan, arguing with him, and shaming him into speaking on Crispin and Jack’s behalf, but there was one thing she hadn’t tried yet.

“I could get him to speak for us,” she told Aubrey with a whole ne
w, dreadful kind of confidence.

“Are you sure?”

Her pulse sped up. Her body hummed along with
it
, and that at just the thought of Ethan.

“My lady, I have to go,” she said.
It was suddenly difficult to
face her mistress, her friend.

“What?” Aubrey changed directions to pace to her side. “So soon?”

Joanna took a deep breath. “If I’m going to do what I need to do, then I have to do it before I think about it enough to stop myself.”

“What are you going to do?” Aubrey asked, although from the change in her tone Joanna could tell she knew.

She could only barely meet her mistress’s eyes. “I’d rather not say until I’ve succeeded, my lady.” Her pride couldn’t bear it.

Aubrey arched an eyebrow. “Well,” she began cautiously, “knowing Ethan,
that
might actually work.” She
fixed Joanna with a considering look
. “Think you can go through with it?”

Yes, Aubrey definitely knew what she had in mind. “My lady, at this point I think I could go through with anything.”

Aubrey gave her a half grin. “I’m touched by your loyalty.”

If only she knew.

“I need to go now, my lady.” She gave her mistress a long hug before breaking away.

“Good luck then,” Aubrey raised a hand to her as Joanna rushed towards the door.

“You too, my lady.”

As she disappeared around the corner
, guard following her,
she blew out a breath and clasped a hand to her heart. It thundered against her ribs. She was about to attempt something that could win Ethan to her side, but that could also destroy everything she’d worked not to feel for years. She was about to attempt to seduce Ethan.

The April sun did little to cut through the chill of the morning. King Richard and his courtiers were wrapped in furs and wool as they tore through the meticulously maintained forest on horseback, chasing hand-raised stags. They laughed and shouted to each other with full confidence that their targets would not get away if they didn’t want them to. It was a farce, yet not one of the playful nobles realized how ridiculous they looked.

Ethan pulled Toby’s cloak tighter over his shoulders as the skittish old mount he’d borrowed from David danced under him. Richard had laughed in approval when Ethan had appeared for the hunt wearing a pilgrim’s cloak. He had seen it as a sign of loyalty, a reminder of the crusade. Ethan knew better. I
t was the only cloak he owned.

He smoothed a hand over the bulky, mismatched patches, a lump forming in his throat. The cloak had lost his old friend’s scent years ago, but
Ethan
could still remember the unique smell of cooking herbs and rosewater that had
followed Toby wherever he went.

I
f he wasn’t careful he would break down where half of Richard’s court could see him.

“Sir Ethan! Come this way!”

Ethan lifted his head and searched for the voice that had called him. A woman of middle years, a widow if what he’d heard was right, beckoned to him. Three years ago he would have chased and captured her with relish. Now he hadn’t bothered to learn her name. He raised a hand to wave at her but tapped his horse to a walk instead of a run.

“You’re missing all the fun!” the widow called again. She eyed him like a piece of meat as he rode closer. It was no secret which hunt she was on. When she kicked her horse to dart towards the main pack of hunters Ethan didn’t follow. He was in no mood to be prey.

“What am I doing?” he sighed and muttered to himself. He’d answered every one of Joanna’s angry, cold, mocking protestations for the last
fortnight
by saying he could keep an eye on the progress of Crispin, Aubrey, and Jack’s case if he was near the king. And in the last
fortnight
he’d done nothing.

He continued to trot forward, ostensibly keeping up with the king. The manicured forest was nothing to the Derbywood. The year he’d spent living rough, Toby wringing his hands over every little thing, Toby taking care of him no matter how low he stooped, was a far happier time than the present. Richard had demanded his presence
,
then all but ignored him. Yet every time he’d begged to be released from court he’d been refused. He’d been reduced to a useless royal ornament.

He ducked under a low-hanging branch, plotting a course to avoid the king’s party without looking like it. Joanna was probably scribbling away on another letter to Aubrey right now or begging David to let her out of his sight and out of the inn so she could go to the Tower. Or else she was sitting
with Madeline
as she recovered from her fever, insisting that things would be alright and Madeline had nothing to worry about. His heart sagged with guilt and longing. He should be helping her, for Christ’s sake. For Toby’s sake. Instead he was playing noble.

A stag shot out from a copse several yards away from him. He raised his bow and trained an arrow on the animal but didn’t fire. He didn’t have the heart. In his mind he heard Toby’s voice reminding him that he couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with an arrow from three paces away anyhow. For half a second he smiled.

“You nearly had him there, Sir Ethan!” King Richard startled him with his booming cry as he galloped closer.

“I chose to save him for you, my liege.” It was a lame answer, but one that made Richard laugh. Ethan smile twisted with self-loathing.

Close to a dozen nobles rode up into the space around him and the king, fine furs ruffling in the breeze. Pennington was among them. He eyed Ethan with a cautious nod. Ethan’s horse grew as skittish as he felt.

“You’re a good man, Sir Ethan.” Richard’s voice was loud enough to frighten every stag in the forest. “We shall reward you with a new cl
oak when we return to London.”

“God knows he needs one!” an unseen noble added.

The courtiers laughed.

“Now, now,” Richard defended him. “Sir Ethan chooses to remind us of the glory of our holy mission. Either that or how pitiful this soggy island is.” He winked at Ethan then rode on after the stag. The cluster of nobles followed.

Heart bitter, Ethan raised his bow and trained it on the king. After everything he’d witnessed in Acre he would be doing the world a favor by letting th
e arrow fly.

The corner of Toby’s cloak slipped off his arm. He lowered the bow. Deep gloom
made his arms and back heavy.

“You disappoint me,
Sir
Ethan.”

Pennington’s off-handed comment had Ethan jumping in his saddle. He spun to find
the man
still standing near him
atop his horse
.

“Why am I not surprised?” Ethan grumbled in return.

“I, for one, would have been terribly interested in seeing what would have happened if you’d fired that arrow.” Pennington’s smile set Ethan’s teeth on edge.

“What do you want?” he sighed, putting his arrow back in its quiver and laying his bow across his saddle.

“It’s not what I want that matters.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, turning his horse
away
. “I’m not interested in playing your games.”

“Aren’t you?” Pennington stopped him from riding off. “It seems to me that’s all you’ve been doing this week, playing games.”

The itching down Ethan’s back flared. “You’re wrong.” He nudged his horse forward.

“What does that beautiful maid of
Sir Crispin’s
have to say about it?”

Et
han froze.

“I saw you making eyes at her at the king’s audience,” Pennington stated as though he didn’t care.
“I have it on good authority that you’re seeing her often.”

Ethan pulled his horse to a stop and turned to glare at his foe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His face flushed and his heart raced. What did Pennington know about Joanna?

“Come now,” Pennington chuckled, walking his horse closer to Ethan. “We’ve all been distracted by a pretty pair of … eyes before. There’s not a bit of shame in it.”

The hair on the back of Ethan’s neck stood up. “And you choose to give me this kind bit of advice because?”

Pennington’s smile widened. “What would you say if I told you I could give you everything you want?”

Ethan barked a laugh. A voice of warning, Toby’s voice, whispered through his brain. “I’d say that you had too high an opinion of yourself.”

“We’re at court,” Pennington argued, spreading his arms and glancing around at the perfect forest. The sounds of the hunt echoed through the trees. “Anything is possible at court.”

“I’m not interested.” Ethan pulled his horse around to walk away.

“What would you say if I told you I could convince the king to return Windale
manor
to you?”

Ethan’s heart stopped. He twisted in his saddle to stare at the man. “I was right. You do think too highly of yourself.”

But what if he could? The thought pulsed through him with each shallow breath he took.

“It’s simple math, really.” Pennington shifted to lean on the front of his saddle. “One estate minus one earl equals one vacancy.”

Prickles of energy danced across Ethan’s skin as the itching in his back became unbearable. “You’re forgetting the fact that the earl in question says he’s innocent.”

Pennington shrugged. “Innocent, guilty, it doesn’t make a difference. I’m sure you know that since you were a favorite of the king’s during his campaign. Oh yes, I did some checking up on you,” he finished.

“Then I’m sure you discovered that I don’t care for politics.”

Their conversation was interrupted as a pair of stags tore through the trees near them. The rowdy pack of nobles with the king charged closer, arrows notched and ready. Ethan kicked his horse to move out of their way. Pennington followed him to the edge of the copse. If King Richard or any of the other nobles thought it strange that two of their party had lost all interest in the hunt they didn’t seem to care.

Ethan took advantage of the situation to fish for information h
e could use. “Where’s your friend
Matlock? Busy turning over rocks looking for his daughter?”

Pennington’s answering grin unnerved him. “No, you have her too well hidden and Matlock is too big of a fool to look in the back streets.”

The more Pennington said the more Ethan panicked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We could go around in circles all day,” Pennington sighed, “but I’ve got better things to do.”

“Why doesn’t that comfort me at all?” Ethan mumbled.

“Matlock is a boob.” Pennington’s tone shifted from toying to deadly serious. “I called him here to help with a little project of mine, but so far he’s been of no use on that front. He was eager to speak against your friend the earl and his sidekick, to take Derbyshire for himself. He insisted no one would challenge him. Then you came along.”

“Sorry to ruin his day.” Ethan was anything but.

“The problem is that I need the earl out of the way
too
.”

“Why? What’s Crispin ever done to you?”

“He has something I want, something Buxton promised me long ago but was prevented from delivering.”

Cold dread joined the itching down Ethan’s spine. “Aubrey?”

“Come now, don’t give me that look. You know how delicious she is.”

The thought made Ethan sick. “She hates you. If you kill her husband she’ll hate you even more.”

“Ah, but you see, I won’t kill her husband, Richard will. And you’ll help.”

Ethan huffed a laugh. “What makes you think I would lift a finger to help you abduct a woman I admire and consider a friend?”

“Because I could offer her a life of power and luxury like nothing she’s ever imagined,” Pennington gave his nonchalant answer. “And because if you do help I can guarantee the safety of Lady Madeline and your charming young maid. Oh, and I can make sure that King Richard gives you your estate of Windale back and all of Derbyshire to boot.”

The air in the forest stilled. Even the birds stopped singing.

“You don’t have that kind of power.”

“Would you care to bet on that?” All traces of humor were gone from Pennington’s eyes. “I’ve been building
my
position since King Henry’s time. My allies are more powerful than you can imagine. I can give you everything you want and maybe even offer you the chance to let that arrow you were pointing earlier go.” He nodded to the side.

Ethan twisted to see the king slowing to a stop on his horse. He had one of the stags cornered. With the puffed up chest of a warrior he raised his bow and fired, striking the stag in the head. The poor beast fell. Richard roared with laughter.

Ethan swallowed. “I don’t want anything to do with any of this.” He turned back to Pennington. “I just want to go home.”

“And I can give you a home to go to,” Pennington insisted. “All you have to do is speak to the king and tell him that your countrymen are as guilty as sin. That’s all.”

Ethan wavered. It seemed easy, too easy.

“Imagine how that lovely young maid will glow with pleasure when you tell her she can be a lady at last.”

Ethan’s heart squeezed harder. Joanna always had been destined to be mistress of Windale, one way or another.

“Oh, and I might just have something in an old chest somewhere from Buxton that implicates Sir Crispin of Huntingdon, Earl of Derby, in a certain murder many years ago.”

“What?” Ethan’s eyes flared and his heart pounded harder.

“Possibly. It would be fun to add murder to the list of charges against the earl, wouldn’t it. And let’s not forget that good old Lord John is a horse thief. I might have the documentation to show he’s been condemned once before too.”

Ethan gaped. He’d had no idea how close he was to getting Windale back. Not only that, once he spoke to King Richard and told him what he knew he could get as far away from the man and his memories as possible.

“And as for the Lady Madeline, Matlock need never find her. I’ve already got him looking in the wrong place for her. One word from you and I’ll convince him she’s gone to France or Venice or the Levant. He will follow.”

Pennington was so cool, sitting atop his horse spouting plot after plot with ridiculous confidence. Ethan stared at him, looking for signs the man was lying. A cry of victory rose up from the hunting party through the trees. He could get away from all this, take Joanna and Madeline with him. All he had to do was let Crispin and Jack die. Aubrey wouldn’t forgive him, but she would live like a queen.

“I see you need some time to think about this,” Pennington broke through his thoughts. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day. I’ll tell Richard you had urgent business to attend to. Go back to your little inn and spend some time with that
charming
maid.”