Noble Hearts 03 - The Courageous Heart (24 page)

“What
is Joanna
doing here, Ethan?” she sighed. “
I thought you said she was safe at some inn.
”

“
She was safe
.” He crossed his arms, fighting
the sense of wrongness that itched its fingers down his back
. “
She took a job at the Tower, although I don’t know why
.”

“
A job
?”
Aubrey
faltered.
“Why? I thought you said your innkeeper friend was providing for her and Madeline and the children.”

The urge to confess was overwhelming. If only he knew what to confess.
“I … I made a huge mistake with her yesterday.”

Aubrey
rested her elbow on the table and her forehead in her hand
. “Why am I not surprised.”

Her disappointment was too much.
“I’ll never be able to do anything right in either of your eyes
,
will I?
” he
complained
.
“
It doesn’t matter how hard I fight or how much danger I put myself in
to protect
you
,
to see that you have a good life,
you’re
just going to charge off and do whatever the hell
you please
.”

“Well maybe that’s beca
use we’re the ones who actually
get things done!”

“
How can you say that?
I’m risking my neck to look out for you!” he fired back. “I fought a war! I turned my life upside down to do what was right and in return I lost everything I ever cared about. The least you could do is show a little gratitude.”

“Is that what this is about?” Aubrey
shook her head.
“You’re still smarting because life didn’t fit the grand pict
ure you painted for yourself?”

He turned away, jaw clenched.

“Do you think I wanted my mother to die when I was a child?
” she went on.
“
Or for my brother to leave me with our dying father?
Or for
Geoffrey
to die at Buxton’s hands?
Do you think I wanted to manage Morley on my own or be forced into an engagement with Crispin?”
She slammed her
fist
on the table
,
making Ethan jump and
sending chess pieces scattering
. “No! But as it turned out, marrying Crispin was the best thing that ever ha
ppened to me and you know it!”

“Well good for you!” he barked, feeling like a prize idiot.
Her speech only drove home how pitiful he must have sounded to Joanna the day before.

“Accept what you’ve got, Ethan,” Aubrey went on. “Stop destroying everyone else’s lives because you’re not happy with your own. I don’t blame Joanna one bit for wanting to stay as far away from you as possible.”

“Something’s wrong
with her
.”
He let his fear get the better of him.

“Why? Because she won’t blindly do what you say?”

“No, because….” He didn’t have an answer, just a feeling. Feelings never led to anything good.

“Maybe
Joanna’s
discovered a way to help us an
d is doing what she needs to do,” Aubrey continued to argue.

“She didn’t mention anything to me
about it
.”

“
And why do you assume you have a right to know everything she’s doing?
”

Ethan sent her a sideways look. “
None of this feels right.
I need to find out what she’s up to.” He crossed back to her
. “If Joanna
visits
you, tell her she needs to stop whatever game she’s playing.”

“I’ll do no such thing.” Aubrey scowled.

“Please, Aubrey.” He grabbed
her
hand. With more feeling in his voice than he intended he said, “Please tell her to stop. I can’t stand the thought of her in danger.”

Aubrey’s lips tensed in confusion. She stared at Ethan’s hands, then met his eyes. “Why do you care?”

He released her, turning towards the door. His feelings for Joanna, the taste of her lips and the brush of her hand, were his to keep to himself. “I owe her,” he said. “Just tell her to get out of danger.”

He left before Aubrey could say anything else. The
guard
who had been lounging in the hall, staring out the window, jumped to attention and rushed to lock Aubrey’s door. Ethan didn’t wait for the man as he stormed down the stairs, heart restless.

“Did you find everything in order, sir?” the guard that had been left behind asked as Ethan reached the front room.

“No,” Ethan grumbled.

He pushed through the front door and back into the Tower yard. The fog had lifted and more servants could be seen rushing about their daily business. Ethan
stopped outside the prison house and
glared
down the row of buildings towards the kitchen
before continuing on to the White Tower
.
If anything happened to
Joanna,
Toby would never forgive him.
He would never forgive himself.

Chapter
Fourteen

Joanna lifted the cauldron of scalding-hot water from its hook near the fire
. She
lugged it to the
area
where the kitchen drudges were scrubbing pots from the midday meal. Her muscles ached and sweat dripped down her back. She’d never worked menial kitchen jobs in her life. Under any other circumstances she would be cross at the
tasks
she’d been given. She was numb.

“When you’ve finished that I’ve got a basket of yesterday’s bread that needs taking to the dungeon,” the second assistant cook called across the noisy kitchen.

Joanna
blinked
, setting the ca
uldron down among the drudges.

“But I’m not supposed to go to the dungeons,” she said. “I was hired to attend the king.”

The second assistant cook laughed at her. “Well aren’t we miss high and mighty. Do as you’re told, girl.”

Joanna shut her gaping mouth, taking up the basket that the cook shoved at her. Pennington would have her hide if he knew she was crossing his plan.

As soon as the thought hit her
,
dread like a hot stone
sank into
her stomach. She couldn’t be one of Pennington’s toads already.

“Yes miss.” She dropped a curtsy to the fat woman and turned to scuttle out of the kitchen.

“Hurry back,” the assistant cook
hollered after her
. “We’ve got supper to start and as usual the king is entertaining this evening.”

Joanna kept her head lowered as she rushed across the green. It was crowded in spite of the hour. She had to dodge a few loitering nobles on her way to the White Tower. As many times as she reminded herself that no one could see into her head
,
she knew each and every one of them suspected why she was there.

When
someone bumped her
as she reached the top of the stairs she gasped
.

“Watch where you’re going!” a familiar voice shouted.

Joanna
’s knees went weak with relief
to see the maid Lucy glaring at her.

Lucy’s
hard expression
softened and she smiled. “Oh, it’s you!
Here
to spy on your master in the dungeon again?”
She backed into the Tower entryway and drew Joanna
with her to
the shelter of the stairwell.
Nobles passed by and ignored them.

“Lucy.”
Joanna
managed a smile. “No, I’ve taken a job in the Tower.
I really do work here this time.
”

“Smart.” Lucy winked. “
Now that’s the way to keep an eye on your people.
”

“Maybe.”
Joanna
glanced down the twisting stairwell, imagining the expression Crispin would wear if he found out what she was really there for. “I haven’t come here to spy on anyone,” she told Lucy, clutching the basket of bread.
“I
… I
need money is all.”

“
Ah,” Lucy nodded in understanding. “Well you’ve come to the right place then. The pay is good around here.” Lucy waited, lips twitching as she studied Joanna’s face.
“
I’ve been cleaning his majesty’s bedchamber,” she shared with a twinkle in her eyes
when Joanna didn’t fill the silence
.

Joanna was surprised to be impressed. “You’re allowed into the king’s private chamber?”

“Of course I am,” Lucy laughed. “
It’s just upstairs, off the banquet hall.
Someone has to clean up the mess his majesty makes
.”

Her words had an uncomfortably prophetic feel to them.
“What an honor.”

Lucy shrugged. “The head that wears the crown is still attached to the
ass that uses the chamber pot.”

The conversation
was cut short by the flash of gold brocade and oil-slicked hair crossing through the doorway into the Tower.
Joanna
gasped and Pennington started as their eyes met. Joanna’s gut went cold
as Pennington’s expression turned to sharp suspicion.
He smoothed his expression and walked on.

Lucy made a noise low in her throat. “You’ve taken my
advice about him, haven’t you.”

Joanna avoided meeting her new friend’s eyes.
S
he bolted down the stairs to the dungeon
, leaving Lucy without word
.

At the bottom of the stairs a twist of shame squeezed her throat.
If she jumped at shadows how could she do what Pennington demanded she do? How could she buy her master and mistress’s freedom?

She took a breath to steady herself. If Pennington saw she was afraid of him he would take advantage of it. The last thing she needed was for him to go back on his word to help exonerate Crispin and Aubrey and Jack because he didn’t think she had the courage to
kill a man
.
If only she was sure she did.

Her glance shifted up the spiral staircase. She could just run. And Crispin and Jack would die.
She’d be no better than Ethan.

She
gathered her courage
and began circulating among the prisoners in the dungeon. They stood eagerly from their places in chains around the open room
, thrusting their hands through the bars of their cells
. For prisoners they were polite. None of them pushed or snatched. They weren’t starving, although after one morning in the kitchens Joanna had heard enough to know they weren’t well-fed. She had the impression that even if they were starving they would still queue for their bread. The Tower did not hold ordinary prisoners.

“
Oy, now t
here’s a sight for sore eyes!”

Joanna heard Jack’s call across the room as she slowly made her way towards him and Crispin. Heat rose to her face and her hands went numb. They would know. They would know something was wrong the moment they saw her.

“Joanna,” Crispin called. “Joanna.”

She wouldn’t be able to avoid them. A part of her didn’t want to avoid them.
A part of
her
wanted to rush to Crispin and beg him for help.
She took her time all the same, traveling the long way around the room handing out bread until she couldn’t ignore them anymore.

“It’s good to see you,” Crispin spoke as she drew near
their cell
.

It took all of her will power to raise her head and meet
his
eyes. “My lord,” she dropped a curtsy.

Crispin had lost weight. Not enough to do him harm, but it was noticeable. Jack was thinner as well. Both men were pale from lack of sunlight and smudged with dirt. From their smell she could tell they hadn’t had a significant bath, probably since being taken prisoner. The sight filled her with despair.

“What’s wrong?” Crispin asked, his expression turning dark, worried. “Is it Aubrey? Have you seen her? What’s happened to her?”

“I haven’t seen her
, my lord
,” Joanna confessed, lowering her head and her eyes.

“Is it Wulfric then? Is he well? Has something happened to him?”

“Wulfric is being well cared for,” she told him. “Lady Madeline and Meg as well. Lady Madeline is doing much better,” she told Jack.

“Better?” Jack dropped his arms, alarm pinching his face. “What was wrong with her?”

Joanna winced. “She was ill after the journey, but there is a healer at the inn where we are staying. Lady Madeline is on her way to regaining her full health.”

Jack cursed under his breath,
rattling the bars of their cell
as if he could break free and run to his wife. Joanna looked away.

Her eyes caught the form of Pennington standing by the stairs. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes were narrowed. In the shadows of the dungeon he looked nothing like the fattened peacock that strutted through London as if he owned it. He was every bit the executioner come to do his work.

“
I have to go,” Joanna mumbled.

She tried to move away but Crispin grabbed her arm.

“What’s going on?” he asked, a low rumble like thunder.

“Nothing is going on, my lord,” she lied. “I … I have a job to do.”

“What job?”

She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve taken a job
in the Tower kitchens. It’s to
earn money for our keep while we’re stranded here.”

“Did you send for Simon?” Jack asked. “Only he’ll bring money from Kedleridge to pay for everything, I’m sure.”

“Yes, my lord.” She kept her eyes lowered. “We did send for Simon. But Derby is a long way away and it
could
be
another week
before he gets here. We are wanting now.”

Her excuse had the opposite effect than she’d hoped for. “Wanting?” Jack fretted. “What kind of an inn are you at
, mate
? Are you sure Madeline is safe there? If her health is fragile she-”

“She is fine, my lord,” Joanna interrupted him. That liberty made her blush with shame.
That shame pounded to her throat as fear as she caught Pennington moving closer to listen to them.
“The position became available so I took it.” With any luck they would leave it at that.

“Are you in trouble?” Crispin stepped closer to her,
pressing against the bars and
speaking almost as a father.
He noticed
Pennington.
“Has something happened that you’re not telling me about?”

“No, my lord.”

“Does this have anything to do with Ethan,” his voice lowered even further.

“No.” She shook her head, weighing whether she was bold enough to shake her arm out of his grasp. “Please, my lord, I have a job to do.”

“What do they have you doing?” Crispin pressed on. Joanna writhed in discomfort. “Are they working you too hard? Are you safe?”

“My lord, please let me go,” she
choked, near tears.

“Something isn’t right, Joanna. Tell me you’re safe,” he continued.

“I’m safe, my lord,” she gulped.

“Are you sure? I-”

His words cut short as Pennington
reached
them. Joanna gasped, feet itching to run. Crispin dropped her arm and stood tall.

“Sir Crispin, there will be no harassing the Tower staff.” Pennington’s voice was hard, piercing.

“What is going on here, Pennington?” Crispin demanded.

“A prisoner is treading dangerously close to revolting, Sir Crispin,” Pennington answered him coldly. He shifted to Jack with a sneer and said, “Well, some of them already are revolting.”

Jack surged towards him, fists balled. Pennington stepped back as Jack reached
through
the
bars
. “Guard
s
!” he called.
“Teach this dog to heel.”

A
pair of
guard
s
stepped forward and
unlocked the cell. One swung the door open while the other grabbed Jack by his tunic. He yanked Jack out of the cell and
pummeled
him
in the gut
with the blunt end of his mace
. Jack doubled, groaning and coughing, and sank to his knees. Joanna
toss
ed
her basket of bread aside and
sank
to a crouch
by Jack’s side,
put
ting
an arm around his shoulders
.

“Leave him, girl. You have other things to do,” Pennington ordered her.

Joanna rocked back, rising to her feet and swallowing to keep from crying.

“I’ll not have you ordering my vassals around like they are your toys, Pennington,” Crispin roared.
The guard who had opened the cell
wrenched
Crispin’s arms behind his back.

“No?” Pennington arched an eyebrow.
To the guard he said, “R
emind Sir Crispin who is in charge here.”

The guard
twisted to
slam
his fist
into Crispin’s
face
.

“No!” Joanna shouted. “Please. Please stop. I’m going,” she told Pennington. “I’m going. I won’t talk to them anymore. Just please don’t hurt them!”

“I would never dream of hurting them,” Pennington drawled. He gave Joanna a sick smile then turned to the guard. “
Take Sir Crispin and move him to the
chapel cell
.”