The Loyal Heart (7 page)

“Hanging off him?” Aubrey growled.

“Yes. Go back to the Great Hall and find Huntingdon.” He cringed at what he was asking her. “Distract him. Tell him … tell him he looks good in black, something like that.” If her back was up any more than it was now she would be floating off the floor. He leaned away from the hand that held the stiletto. “Give us time to get out of the castle and far from Derby.”

“Where will you go?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“We’ll figure that out later. But you can’t come with us.” He hated to put it to her like that, especially when it looked like she would tear his guts out with that charming little stiletto. He had a sudden burning interest to get to know his friend’s sister much, much more intimately.

Aubrey opened her mouth to say something, closed it when she couldn’t come up with anything, opened it again, then balled her fists and glanced up at the ceiling in a temper.

“Oy,” Jack spoke up, “I hate to get in the middle of whatever this is, but we need to get a move on.”

“He’s right.” Ethan glanced to Aubrey. She looked fit to burst. “Aubrey?” He sang her name, gave her his most charming smile.

She wavered, holding her breath. “Fine!” She exhaled, stomping her foot as she pushed away from the wall. She looked at the stiletto in her hand and hesitated for a moment before shoving it flat against Ethan’s chest. She glared at him, tossed her tangled hair, and stepped past him.

She swept along the corridor with her chin up and her eyes blazing. One of the kitchen servants noticed her pass but only blinked once as she continued her work. Ethan watched, free to let an amused smile play on his face, as she turned a corner and disappeared up another staircase.

“Little Aubrey Morley,” he laughed to himself, shaking his head.

“Not so little, if you ask me,” Jack winked. “She coulda killed me, mate.”

“She could have,” Ethan nodded to Jack to let him know that it wasn’t a joke. He hoped he’d get a chance to get her back up again sometime soon. Up against a tree might be fun. But at the moment they had business. “Right. This could get ugly.”

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” Jack drawled.

Ethan ignored him. “We walk through the kitchen and try to pretend that nothing is wrong. If we make it we go out to the stables, grab some horses, and get out of town as fast as possible.”

“Stealin’ horses is what got us here in the first place,” Jack sighed in irritation. “If we get caught we’ll be right back where we started and then some.”

“Then don’t get caught,” Ethan told him with a grin. He glanced to Tom, who nodded, and to Toby, who was busy crossing himself and muttering a prayer. “If anyone tries to stop us,” he raised the dagger in his right hand and handed the stiletto over to Tom, “don’t let them.”

“Gotcha.” Jack’s eyes gleamed.

“Ready?” The Tanners nodded, Toby sighed. “Nice and easy, boys,” Ethan said standing and stepping out into the hall. “Like you belong here.”

Aubrey was still fuming when she reached the Front Hall. She hated being ordered around, especially when the only thing she wanted to do was stay as close to Ethan’s side as she could manage. She was so irritated that she hardly noticed the strange looks she was getting from servants and nobles alike as she made her way along the hallway that lead to the Great Hall. Just how was she supposed to distract Crispin anyhow? The man didn’t like anything, hardly said anything. For all the time they’d spent together the only thing she’d learned about him was that he was Buxton’s lap dog. Buxton. She shivered in disgust.

It wasn’t until she reached the hallway that lead directly to the gallery at the top of the Great Hall that she noticed just how much people were staring at her. She stood where she was for a moment, the cheerful sound of the musicians in the Great Hall at odds with the startled and repulsed looks of the nobles all around her. She put her hands on her hips and glared at each of them as they started to murmur.

“What?” she demanded as some of the murmurs turned to laughter behind hands. She could see the whispering spread into the Great Hall until even the people standing on the gallery were talking behind their hands and looking at her. It was maddening.

Then she remembered what they were all sniggering about.

She heard the sound of Crispin charging up the stairs moments before he whipped around the corner and stormed into the hall. The second he laid eyes on her, face and hair a mess, dress covered in dirt and ripped in several places, his expression exploded into rage. “Aubrey!” he shouted, the nobles standing nearest him taking a step back at the edge in his voice. “What happened?”

He was toe-to-toe with her in three long steps, hands reaching out but not quiet touching her. For a moment she could only stand there and blink up at him. His eyes burned with more than just fury and for a moment she leaned closer to him, heat rushing through her. She recovered by clearing her throat and saying the first thing that popped into her head. “I was robbed! Outside of the city on the way home.”

“In broad daylight?” he pressed her. He narrowed his eyes at the whispering observers. His expression served its purpose and they began to move off and find other places to go.

“Yes.” Aubrey committed to whatever story came out, faking breathlessness. “I … I was alone so I guess he thought that I was an easy target.” She let him take her arm and put a hand on her back as he steered her out of the hallway. His touch sent unexpected shivers through her. He took her across to a balcony with wide archways that looked out over the courtyard and the city. “I was at the edge of the woods when he stopped me and pulled me off my horse.”

“Did he hurt you?” His tone suggested murder.

“No” Aubrey shook her head. “He wasn’t interested in me, just my money.”

“What did he look like?” He brought her to the low stone wall of the balcony and helped her to sit with her back against one of the pillars.

“He wore a mask.” Aubrey’s voice faltered. She glanced out over the courtyard in time to see four figures running at full tilt from the kitchen towards the stables. She gasped before she could stop herself. Crispin frowned and began to turn to see what she was looking at. Panicked, she reached out and grabbed both of his hands. His attention flew back to her. “He wore a … a mask that hid his face. And he was small. Small but tough.” She felt dizzy as the words left her mouth.

“The Bandit,” Crispin growled. His hands tightened around hers.

“I don’t know.” She shook her head, glancing down and hoping he interpreted it as shyness instead of trying to get a better look at the courtyard. A couple of servants and a guard had burst out of the kitchen now and were scattering in the courtyard, trying to figure out where Ethan and the others had gone.

“I’ve run into this Bandit before,” Crispin was saying. “He is dangerous. There is a price on his head, but perhaps it is not enough. I will have it raised.”

“Really?” Aubrey turned a delighted grin to Crispin before she could stop herself. If she had known it would be this easy to raise the price on her head she would have tried it ages ago. Out of the corner of her eye she saw four horses leap from the stable and clatter across the courtyard towards the gate. Ethan’s sun-golden hair and Jack’s bright ginger stood out in the setting sun.

This time they made enough noise that Crispin noticed. With an annoyed scowl he turned to see what the commotion was. When he saw the tail end of the four horses shoot through the gate he jumped to his feet and leaned out over the edge of the balcony.

“Guards! After them!”

The effect was instantaneous. Men dressed in the blue and green of Buxton’s guards came flooding out of corners where Aubrey didn’t even know they were tucked. They jumped into action and streamed out through the gate. Crispin started to charge off himself.

“Wait!” Aubrey leapt to her feet and clung to his arm to keep him from going. He stopped and turned back to her. Her gaze flickered out over the city as she tried to make sure that Ethan and the others had made it past the gates. “I’m … I’m frightened!” Crispin glanced at her hands clutching his arm. She’d made a mistake. He stared into her eyes as if her statement was ridiculous. “Stay with me?” she entreated him.

He swallowed. His shoulders dropped and for one fleeting moment he looked helpless. She caught her breath. “Aubrey,” he began, but nothing followed. Her face flushed with guilt. When he looked at her like that…. “I … want … to stay.”

“But you can’t,” she finished his sentence, disappointment flooding her. For a fraction of a moment she thought she saw something in him besides Buxton’s lackey. “I see where your loyalty lies.” She dropped his arm and faced the archway. She scanned the city, looking for a sign that Ethan had made it out.

“Aubrey.”

She barely registered him speaking her name. At that moment four figures on horseback shot out into the field surrounding the city walls and galloped towards the forest. A triumphant grin danced to her face. They’d made it. In a matter of minutes they would be safe in the woods. The guards who chased after them could search all they wanted, but they wouldn’t find them. Ethan was far too clever for that. By nightfall they would give up and return to the castle empty-handed. Aubrey wished she could see the look on Buxton’s face when that report came in. The man would probably throw a fit that they could hear all the way from Morley. Her heart felt light, but she forced her face into a worried pout when she turned to face Crispin.

He was gone. Her forced distress disappeared to genuine surprise. She craned her neck and looked up and down the balcony, walking back to the hallway and searching for any sign of him. He was nowhere. She hadn’t even heard him leave. She pursed her lips with a frown and wondered where he could have gone.

“Careful, you idiots, careful!” Buxton snapped at the guards who carried the Madonna and Child down the aisle in Derby Castle’s chapel. Crispin walked ahead of them, taking short backwards steps and glancing over his shoulder now and then as he lined them up with the pedestal that had been built to stand behind the altar. The altar itself had been shoved to the side, its brittle copy of the Bible falling off the far end. “I paid much too much to have that thing stolen and I’ll not have you louts dropping it!” Buxton walked behind the odd procession, hands on hips.

“Mind the crack,” Crispin muttered, his patience for the process at an end.

He looked over his shoulder as they reached the pedestal and turned back just in time to see one of the guards catch his foot in the crack made by the heavy altar. Eyes wide, he reached out his long arms as the Madonna fell towards him. He caught her shoulders and was wedged against the pedestal as the two guards fumbled their grip on her base. There was a loud chink and clunk. He grimaced at the weight pinning him but ignored the sound.

“My lord.” His voice strained as the air was crushed from his lungs. “A little help?”

Buxton strode around the guards to stand parallel to Crispin and his burden. “Oh, I don’t know.” He tilted his head to the same angle as the statue. “You look like you’re doing a fine job. Carry on, Crispy!”

Crispin’s scowl was hidden by a grimace of pain as sweat broke out on his forehead. “Bring the base this way,” he ordered the guards and tried not to grunt as the full weight of the Madonna scraped up over his chest and hit his long nose. He steadied the statue as best he could, hearing the clunk again when it was vertical, and took a deep breath as it settled in place. He stepped away from the altar, dabbed his bleeding nose on the back of his sleeve, sniffed, and stopped dead.

Aubrey had entered the chapel and leaned against the wall by the door. Her blue-green eyes sparkled with mirth and her pert mouth was curved in a grin. He pretended to ignore her, heart pounding, as he strode to Buxton’s side.

“There, you see?” Buxton slapped him on the back, causing waves of pain to radiate across his bruised ribs. Buxton leaned in closer and glowered at the statue while saying, “Never trust a woman.”

Crispin paled and willed Buxton not to turn and see Aubrey. He leaned forward to check the base of the statue for damage, drawing Buxton’s eyes with him. Buxton’s words meant more than he wanted them to. He hadn’t been able to shake the memory of Aubrey’s behavior the day Ethan escaped. The guards in the dungeon had reported that a woman had been involved, though they were tight-lipped about what that involvement was as they nursed their bruises.

He frowned as he made a half-circle around the Madonna, stealing a glance at Aubrey while Buxton was directing the guards to move the altar back into place. She smiled at him and waved. He sent her a warning frown.
Never trust a woman
.

“Stop fussing, Crispy, will you?” Buxton interrupted his thoughts. “We’ve got better things to do. We need to do something to really drive the point of Prince John’s generous gift home.” He stepped closer and hooked a hand over Crispin’s shoulder. Crispin lowered his eyes to stare at the fingers that dug into him. “Something public … but not too flashy. Something that will draw a lot of attention but … but will have an exclusive feel. We want rumors of grandeur without having to actually pay for it.” He ended by tickling his hand down Crispin’s back and turning to step off the chancel. When he saw Aubrey his cheerful grin burst into a sour sneer. “Oh what now?”