Noble Hearts 03 - The Courageous Heart (7 page)

At David’s words Joanna’s fury dissolved in
to deep shame. “I’m sorry, sir.
”
She shuffled Meg so that she could put the bundle of Toby’s letters in her other pocket, then wiped the tears from Meg’s hot cheeks. “I think I would enjoy a mug of ale, if you could show me where to get it.”

“Right this way, my dear.”

David stretched a fatherly arm across Joanna’s shoulders and steered her towards the inn. She went with him, refusing to let herself check over her shoulder for Ethan’s reaction. If she was smart she would ask David for something stronger than ale. She needed something to drown the chaos her world had just fallen into.

Roderick cursed and spit a stream of blood into the grass. His fury hadn’t been soothed a bit by slitting the throats of the two Derbyshire drivers. He’d secured the carriages but the real prize had gotten
away. His old friend Ethan had
swooped in like a vulture and snatched his prey right out of his hands and b
roken his nose in the process.

Roderick stomped up the steps into the White Tower, flexing his hands, aching to strangle someone. He shoved a richly-dressed old man aside and
marched to
the door. His only consolation was that his dear old friend looked like he’d fallen in a gutter and been chewed by rats, whereas Roderick’s fortunes had taken a different turn.
When the sentry at the door moved to stop him Roderick flashed him a small parchment with a seal. The sentry shuffled back, eyes wide.

Roderick
shot through the door
and took a spiral staircase
to the left
downwards.
The air cooled as he stepped out onto the ground floor. The vaulted dungeon
was
crowded,
but it was hardly the setting for social gatherings like the ones upstairs. The scattered prisoners, those chained to the walls and those in small cells, watched him with envy as he strode through the cavern to where
a handful of
guards was stuffing Crispin and Jack into a cell.

“They’re going to run out of space if they keep detaining half the nobles in England,” the head jailer
complained
as
Roderick
passed. “
They just keep coming.
I don’t know where to put half the new ones that get sent down here. That dark-haired earl was supposed to go in the cell up in the chapel but he refused. Can you believe that? Best prison cell in the place and he refused it. I just don’t know where to put them all.”

“Maybe the king expects you to shove ‘em up your arse,” Roderick snapped in reply.

“Look you,”
the jailer
protested
.

Roderick’s knife was out and at the man’s throat in a
flash
. “You wanna go there, old man? Because you know who I am and you know who I work for and you know exactly what I do for him. And I’m not having the happiest of days today.” The guard shook his flabby, colorless face.

“I don’t care what it takes!” Matlock’s voice echoed across the dungeon
.

Roderick
let the stupid guard go and
marched to face what was coming to him
at the other end of the cavernous room
.

“I came
all the way here to London
with one purpose and one purpose only
.
Y
ou claimed
you would help me if I helped you
,” Matlock blustered on. “I don’t want the earl or his wife or that
peasant
to ever see the light of day again!”

“My dear Stephen,” Pennington cooed, sending Roderick the briefest of nods as he was noticed.
Roderick nodded in return and held back.
“Rest assured,
when the time comes it will be easy
to separate the earl and his
pet’s
heads from their bodies. But it’s not up to me to set a date for their trial.”

“Why not? I thought you had this hellhole in the palm of your greasy little hand.”

Even in the dark dungeon Roderick could see Pennington’s expression sour. “Country folk have no sense of subtlety and strategy,” he muttered.

“You!” Matlock growled
at
Roderick. He pointed at a spot beside him, calling Roderick to heel as if he were a hunting dog. He missed Roderick’s seething look as he finished with Pennington. “I want this handled as fast as possible. The earldom of Derby should have been mine years ago!”

“So you keep reminding me,” Pennington grumbled then quickly added, “It’s not like I have anything against you owning the title. I have my own reasons for wanting the earl out of the picture. I am simply making the point that there is a grander cause in the offing than your tale of revenge.
I called you here to help fry a much, much bigger fish.
First things first, my friend.”

Matlock stared at Pennington with sudden, odd trepidation before shifting his attention to Roderick. “What news do you have about my miscreant daughter?”

No sense delaying the punishment. “She escaped, my lord.
”

“You idiot!” Matlock answered him with a slap across the face. “How could you lose two women and two children?” He hit Roderick again. With his nose already broken the blows cracked like lightning. Blood flowed across his lips.

“They had help,” he grumbled.

“Who?
They don’t
have any connections in London.”

“I don’t know, my lord.” He’d be damned if he revealed what he knew to a
pompous bastard like Matlock.

“I want them found!” Matlock railed, not bothering to question him. “My daughter will rue the day she disgraced my name and whored herself out to that peasant dog.”

“How should I find them, my lord?” Roderick asked, dabbing at hi
s bloody face with his sleeve.

“How am I supposed to know? You’re the conniving one. Think of something!”

“Yes, my lord.” Roderick grumbled. He turned to leave.

“Now
,
about frying our big fish
, Lord Stephen,” Pennington raised his voice enough for Roderick to slow his retreat.

“It’s too dangerous to talk about that here,” Matlock replied. “Prince John may be willing to give me all of Derbyshire if we
take care of his problem, but if
we fail our necks will stretch.”

“
Again no sense of intrigue
,” Pennington went on
with a sigh
, “
Danger is part and parcel of royal politics, my friend. The risk is great, but
the reward
if we succeed
will be great
er
.
Just think about that.
Now if you will excuse me, Sir Stephen, I have far prettier business to attend to.”

Pennington patted Matlock’s cheek like he was a green page and strode away and up the stairs. Matlock stood where he was, bristling with impotence. Why Pennington saw fit to rely on a boob like Matlock to
carry out a royal coup was beyond
Roderick
. Nobles like Matlock could only see what was in front of their face. Clearly Matlock couldn’t see anything.

Roderick smirked and sped up his retreat. There were more plots afoot than Matlock could possibly imagine.

“Let me go!” Aubrey shouted and struggled against the two guards
who
manhandled her. They
’d dragged her across the yard to one of the buildings lining the Tower
while
every noble come to see the king watched
. Now they
shoved her up a set of narrow stairs to God only knew where. She’d bit, kicked, and scratched, but their grip remained solid. “I demand to see my husband! Crispin!”

“You don’t want to go where he’s goin’,” one of the guards growled in a London accent. The strangeness of it sent more waves of panic through Aubrey’s gut.

“I don’t care! Take me back to him!” Her efforts to writhe out of her guards’ grip only resulted in them tightening their hold to the point of inflicting bruises. “Let me go!”

“My dear, why bother fussing so much when you know they’ll do no such thing?”

The obsequious voice of Arthur Pennington following her up the stairs stopped Aubrey’s struggles cold.
The guards paused long enough to bow in acknowledgement of the man, their faces suddenly lax with fear.
A deeper sense of dread struck
Aubrey
. When they reached a long corridor with closed doors she twisted her neck to see the oily man smiling at her. A servant carried something in a small box behind him.

“Yes it’s me.” Pennington fluttered his fingers in a wave.

“What have you done with Crispin and Jack?” Aubrey demanded as she was dragged down the hall. One or two inhabitants of the cells shifted to their small barred doors to watch in silence.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about them, my sweet,” Pennington shrugged.

Panic swelled five times stronger in Aubrey’s gut. “If I find that you’ve hurt them, Pennington, I’ll-”

“Yes, well, I don’t particularly care to discuss the earl and
the peasant
at the moment,” he cut her off.

One of her guards opened a cell near the far end of the hall and shoved her inside. Pennington followed.
The guards looked to him as if awaiting orders. Pennington’s
servant rushed to a table under a small window. The cell was dingy and the furniture was worn and stained. Rather than a dungeon it looked more like a badly maintained inn room. The servant opened the box and began unpacking a chess set.

The moment the guard let her go Aubrey lunged for the door. With a grunt the guard caught her and wrenched her arms behind her back. Aubrey struggled.

“I demand to see my son!” she shouted. “Bring him to me at once!”

Pennington’s grin faltered. “Last time I checked prisoners were not allowed to keep their children with them.”

“Actually…,” one of the guards started.

Pennington shot him a warning glare.
The man backed down like a dog who had been struck too many times by his master. Pennington’s
grin returned as he shifted his focus back to Aubrey. “I think you need some time alone to think about what you’ve done.”

“I’ve done nothing!” Aubrey renewed her struggle, stomping on the foot of the guard who held her. The guard shouted. She tried to break away but the ogre of a man held her too tightly.

“Mmm. I always did like your feisti
ness.”

Pennington’s slick comment stopped her struggling. He watched her with a spark in his eyes. Her stomach turned at the sight.

“What do you want?” She stopped struggling.

“Nothing new, nothing new.” He waved away her
demand
with a vague smile. “Would you like to play a game of chess?” The servant had finished setting up the board on the room’s small table. Pennington crossed towards it.

“No,” Aubrey answered without pause.

Pennington feigned offence. “I don’t think I’ve ever been rejected so roundly.” He snatched the white queen from the chess board.

“I find that hard to believe,” Aubrey grumbled.

To her dread, Pennington laughed. “Oh yes. It will be fun to break you.” He kissed the white queen in his hand and turned to go.

“Where have they taken Crispin and Jack?” she demanded before he reached the door.

He hesitated then turned back to her. “To the dungeon, of course, to await trial.”

“But they’re noblemen!” Aubrey protested. “They’ve done nothing wrong.”

Pennington chuckled, studying the white queen fondly. “I believe that may be up for some debate.”

“You have no evidence against them!”

“Don’t I?”

Aubrey’s blood ran cold. She fought down the raging panic in her gut. “Fine. Then take me down to the dungeon with them!”

Pennington shook his head. “Oh no, my lady. That would defeat the purpose entirely.”

“What purpose?” Aubrey’s stomach clenched.

“Why, the purpose of you rising to the place you were born to have, of course.” He caressed the crown of the white queen with a tenderness that made Aubrey sick.

She stared at him, mouth clamped shut.

When she didn’t play along with the dialog Pennington sighed and lowered the chess piece. “I think I might give you the chance to, shall we say, improve your husband and friend’s lots. I have influence, you know, and I have always been fond of you.” He raked her with a leering glance and stepped closer to her. “Perhaps if you are very nice to me, my dear, I might show you my
evidence
.” He stroked the
white queen across her cheek.

Aubrey flinched away but could only go so far with the massive guard holding her. She swallowed, weighing the consequences of kicking the bastard
in his evidence
.

Pennington stepped back with a happy sigh before she had a chance. “Alas, if only there was time. But rest assured, my dear, I will be back to discuss the many various ways you might earn your husband and his peasant reprieve and to play with you. Chess, of course,” he added with a wink, pocketing the white queen.

He swung away and sauntered into the hall. The guard holding her let go. He and his mate rushed towards the door, closing and locking it before she could make a break for it. She didn’t have the strength to try.