The Loyal Heart Part 27

"I can draw him into conversation and find out what he's hiding." She ignored his command as inspiration flashed through her.

"I'll not have you getting involved."

Aubrey huffed and flung an arm to their disheveled bed. "Already involved!" Crispin's jaw flexed as his eyes bored into her. "Besides, Buxton said Pennington wants to see me."

Heavy silence followed her comment. Crispin dropped his arms. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I."

"I don't trust him."

"Neither do I!" She stared at him as he stared at her. After what they had shared, after what she now knew she craved so much more of, there was no way she was going to let him bully her out of her place at his side. No matter what that meant. "Something tells me I couldn't get out of it if I wanted to. Did you see the look on Buxton's face?"

Crispin and Jack exchanged expressions that made danger tingle down to Aubrey's toes. "I want you to have as little to do with Pennington as you can get away with," Crispin conceded. Aubrey grinned in satisfaction. He ignored her and turned to Jack. "See if you can find out anything more about Prince John's arrival."

"Right." Jack nodded and dashed from the room.

Crispin turned to Aubrey. "The second I see you in over your head I'm sending you back to Windale."

Aubrey scowled, but a new threat of panic laced through her. "Don't send me away, Crispin."

She watched the hardness melt out of his eyes and her heart swelled when he pulled her into his arms. He kissed her forehead, then her lips. "I won't send you away." He dropped his bluff. "I couldn't stand it."

Her face flushed with love and desire. She wished their promising morning hadn't been interrupted. "Nothing is going to happen to me."

Geoffrey rode into Derbywood through a shower of falling leaves, his face set with grim determination. For too long he had idled at Morley, keeping his door locked against threats he was powerless to stop. The world was cruel and he had been walking around in a daze as if he didn't owe it anything.

Word had sped back to Morley about Ethan's battle with Crispin two days before. No two stories of the event matched. He had heard that Ethan had been mortally wounded and that Crispin had been mortally wounded. One version had even claimed that Aubrey had thrown herself in the path of Ethan's sword to protect Crispin. He dismissed it as nonsense. He knew Aubrey better than that. At least he had. All he'd had from her for months were hasty letters telling him that everything was fine.

Orange and red and yellow leaves lay thick on the forest floor. The few still waving in the trees caught the autumn light and flooded golden hues through the undergrowth. "Ethan!" he called, sitting as straight and tall on his horse as he could. "Show yourself!" His shouts were drowned in the thick silence of the forest. "Show me you're not dead, that that b.a.s.t.a.r.d Huntingdon didn't finish what the Turk started!"

His cries did not go unanswered for long. Two men in russet cloaks popped out from behind a stand of bushes. They blended so well with their surroundings that Geoffrey didn't noticed them until they moved. He didn't recognize either of them. They were both young men with pinched faces that had seen hard times. He wasn't even sure if they were Ethan's men at all until one of them said, "Who are you and what do you want with Lord Ethan?"

Geoffrey steadied his horse. "I'm a friend of Windale's." The man glanced to his partner who shrugged in return. "Take me to see him. Now!" Geoffrey struggled to keep his temper in check. He had no time to play games with this rabble. The two men continued to look at each other, casting nervous glances up to Geoffrey and scratching their heads. "Take me to him or I'll run over you and find him myself!"

His threat had the opposite effect of his intentions. One of the men drew a long dagger and the other raised the bow he had concealed under his cloak. Snarling, Geoffrey drew his sword.

"Wait! Wait! He's a friend!" The alarmed voice of Toby stopped the impending fight. Geoffrey's eyes snapped up to see Ethan's servant running towards them as fast as he could, catching his cloak on branches and his feet on roots. The two men lowered their weapons and turned to Toby. Geoffrey kept his sword ready. "Sir Geoffrey!" Toby doubled over to catch his breath when he came skidding to a stop in front of Geoffrey's horse.

"Toby." Geoffrey tried to keep his voice calm, sneering at the two men who were forced to put their weapons away. "Where's Ethan?"

Toby glanced warily up to Geoffrey. "He's back at the camp."

"Take me to him."

Toby held up his hands, half defensive, half supplicating. "Now Sir Geoffrey, I know you and my master did not part on the best of terms-"

"What in blazes does that have to do with anything?"

Toby snapped his mouth shut and dropped his arms, wide eyes gaping. "Well I would have thought after everything that happened-"

"What exactly happened?" Geoffrey narrowed his eyes. He'd also heard rumors that Ethan had publicly denounced Aubrey.

Toby sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I'll let him explain, sir."

He turned and motioned for Geoffrey to follow. The two lookouts blended back into their surroundings.

Toby lead Geoffrey deeper into the forest, turning so many times that he wasn't sure he would be able to find his way out. He knew that they were nearing the camp when they came across more people and an occasional tent with a fire burning out front. His curiosity turned to bewilderment.

Tent after tent of families, men, women, and children, circled around an area of the forest that had been cleared. The concentration of make-shift homes grew tighter as he approached the center where the crisp October sun beamed into a large circular common. At one edge of the common stood a tent that was bigger than the rest. It was draped with Ethan's red and blue sigil. A fire pit had been constructed in front and was tended by a handful of young people. Geoffrey took it all in with an unsettled feeling of awe and horror. It would have looked like any other village but for the tents and the anxious looks on people's faces.

Toby had dashed inside of the large tent when Geoffrey stopped to take a look and now he came out again, Ethan behind him, followed by a sharp-faced young man. The sight of Ethan's petulant scowl brought back Geoffrey's itching curiosity.

"Well, I guess the rumors that say you're dead aren't true."

"Not by half." Ethan's answer was guarded by cold suspicion.

Geoffrey sighed and shifted in his saddle. "So you want to tell me what happened?" Ethan clenched his jaw and stared off at a group of women sewing in a circle. Geoffrey rolled his eyes. "That bad, eh?" Ethan glanced up to him. It must have been miserable if his friend couldn't even talk about it. "I take it Huntingdon is alive too?"

"Yes," Ethan seethed.

"And Aubrey?"

"Chose him."

Geoffrey tensed and his horse danced under him. "Did she throw herself in front of your sword to protect him?" Ethan's silence was all the answer he needed. He sat higher in his saddle, eyebrows reaching to his hairline. "Did you curse her out?" Ethan crossed his arms and glared at a patch of dirt by his feet. "Dammit, Ethan!" He glanced to Toby, who stood watching his master with sad eyes, and the other young man. His eyes snapped back to his friend with an irritated sigh. "What are you going to do now, huh?"

"I'm going to fight them!" Ethan met his eyes, the barest hint of a grin flashing in his expression.

"Fight my sister you mean."

"Yes!"

"Ethan," Geoffrey began like a scolding father.

"She made her choice." Ethan took a step forward, his body bristling with anger. "Isn't that what you've been telling me all along?"

"Of course, but-"

"And I've made mine." Geoffrey sank into his saddle and appealed to the heavens for help. "I don't care who stands between me and my land. Huntingdon, Aubrey, it makes no difference to me. I want what's mine and I will get it!"

"How, you daft fool?"

Ethan dropped his arms, staring off at the tents around the common, eyes glittering with spite. "My land will be the ransom."

Cold dread crept down Geoffrey's spine but he kept his face calm and bored. "And who will you be ransoming, might I ask?"

Ethan stared straight at him, boring a hole through his head. "Prince John."

Geoffrey burst into laughter. "She's just a woman, Windale! No need to get yourself killed over her."

"My name is not Windale anymore. I am Ethan of Derbywood."

Geoffrey threw up his hands and rolled his eyes. "Of course. Ethan of Derbywood, deadly highwayman, kidnapper of royalty." When Ethan didn't share in the joke Geoffrey's face dropped. He gaped at his friend. "You're serious."

"Deadly."

"Dead is more like it if you try."

Ethan shook his head. "It's the only way."

"The only way what? To end up dangling from the end of a rope? If you even get that far." He shook his head at the utter madness Ethan was talking and glanced to Toby for help. Toby bit his lip and silently pleaded with him to talk his master out of it. Geoffrey sighed and turned back to his friend. "What's your plan?"

"We find a way into the castle while the prince is in residence. We create a distraction and take him when no one is looking." Ethan's eyes flashed with purpose and the menacing young man shadowing him licked his lips. For some reason the boy made him think of murder. Toby was near tears as he glanced to Geoffrey.

It was the most feeble excuse for a plan Geoffrey had ever heard. "A distraction. In Derby castle. So you can kidnap Prince John." He puffed out a breath and fixed Ethan with a flat stare. His friend was unmovable. His sister was special, but he didn't think she was worth suicide. His wry smile faded. Ethan was as changeable as the wind, always had been. The only way to stop him from charging off a cliff was to run beside him. "Fine. I'll help."

A self-satisfied smile spread across Ethan's face. Toby jumped forward with a yelp. "Sir Geoffrey, you can't let him-"

"What do you need me to do?" he interrupted.

Ethan took a step back to consider as Toby sputtered between the two of them. When neither man backed down an inch he tossed up his hands and sank to sit in the dirt. Ethan ignored him. "I need someone inside Derby to keep me informed. And I need a map showing where the prince is lodging."

"Done." Geoffrey nodded without even thinking about it. It was about time he rejoined the rest of the world anyhow. "I'll be in place by nightfall."

"And you'll send me a letter with the map, let me know when the prince is coming, how and when I can best strike?"

He sighed and pulled his horse's reins tighter, wheeling him around. "G.o.d help me, Ethan, I will."

"Good."

The two friends nodded at each other as Toby continued to wither into pieces at the turn of events. Geoffrey turned his horse to go but stopped. He stared hard at Ethan one last time. Ethan's grudge went far beyond just his land and it was high time he recognize it.

"She's just a woman, Ethan, and now she's someone else's woman." Ethan glared bitterly at him. "Move on."

A day later Aubrey still hadn't been able to get a good idea of what was going on, but not for lack of trying. Pennington seemed delighted to have someone other than Buxton to talk to. A little too delighted.

During their first meeting Pennington had learned she had run Morley by herself for a time, been engaged to Crispin and had the engagement broken off by her brother, how and where Geoffrey had been wounded, and that she had spent countless days and nights playing chess with her brother. She had learned that Pennington liked chess and women who were outspoken. And not much else. She had a world of second thoughts about spending time with him and started carrying Crispin's wolf-head dagger concealed in her boot. She kept at it though. They needed to know what he was really doing in the castle, Crispin needed to know.

"In London," Pennington explained as they sat on either side of a chess table in front of a roaring fire, "a woman like you would vie for attention with Queen Eleanor herself, Lady Huntingdon. "

Aubrey smiled and cleared her throat. His eyes made her feel as if her dress were too low cut. "As I understand it," Aubrey slid her queen across the board to a fortified position, ready for attack, "the Queen Mother cares more for her possessions on the continent than England."

Pennington shrugged as he studied the board, elbow propped on the arm of his chair. "What the Queen Mother does not care for is rivals, so perhaps it is best that you remain in Derby."

"What do you mean?"

He smirked at her with leonine grace. "Don't tell me you can't see the way every man in the castle looks at you, my lady." The room went hot. When she didn't reply he continued. "Why the looks your husband alone gives you would make the Queen purple with jealousy."

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, trying to stay just as cool as he was. "And what do you know about it?" It was a clumsy attempt to get him to reveal something, but all of her smooth attempts had been complete failures.

"I can see that your husband values you more than any worldly possession," Pennington turned the conversation right back on her.

"Really? What makes you think that?"

He moved a bishop to a point threatening her queen. "You are beautiful, you are intelligent, and, I suspect, you have talents that I have not yet seen."

"Such as?"

Pennington laughed. "I would not dare to presume." His eyes raked her. Her face went red. "Just don't let Buxton see how devoted your husband is to you."

Her skin crawled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

They both knew that she did. She concentrated on the chess board so she wouldn't have to see where his eyes wandered. "And then there is the problem with Derbywood."

Like the pieces on the board, Aubrey felt as though she was being pushed into an undefended position. She moved her queen out of the danger she had been put in with a shrug. "Forests are a good place to hide," she deliberately misunderstood him. "Are there forests near London?"

"London is a hot, miserable, smelly city."

His evasiveness was driving her crazy. She went out on a limb as she studied the chess board, eyes turned down under long dark lashes. "Are you married, sir?"

He laughed and moved a p.a.w.n into the path of her attack. "Alas, my duty is not one that lends itself to marriage." Aubrey tried not to scream in irritation. He was teasing her now and she couldn't figure out how to get away from it. "But I will remember that you asked." He arched his eyebrow and smoothed his oily moustache.

She grinned back, although inwardly she crawled with disgust. "I suppose being a servant of the crown is very time consuming. Do you travel a lot?"

He nodded to her and his overly warm expression did not change. "Incessantly."

She felt as if she were on the edge of a discovery and on the edge of a very deep hole she had dug herself. "Have you met Prince John before?" she asked, taking one of his p.a.w.ns with her knight.

"Of course," he shrugged.

She raised her eyebrows. If Pennington already knew Prince John, then why did he need to come all the way to Derby to discuss peace? "I have never met him." She feigned the same expectation she had heard from the ma.s.s of n.o.blewomen loitering around the castle. "What's he like?"

Pennington took his time in answering. "He is a man of great ambition," he answered. He picked up his queen and moved her all the way across the board, taking the p.a.w.n in front of her king. "Checkmate," he said with a solemn nod. Aubrey sighed, kicking herself that she hadn't seen his sneak attack before. "Tell me, Lady Huntingdon, have you ever played a game of human chess?"

Still stared at the board trying to figure out where she had gone wrong before hearing him. "Human chess?" Something about the idea didn't sit well with her. "No, I don't believe I have."

"It is more or less the same game we play at this table, only the board is laid out in a courtyard or great hall and the pieces are people."

She kept her face relaxed and interested in spite of her suspicion. "How does it work when a piece is taken?"

"The men playing the pieces fight. The winner takes the square."

"What, regardless of the actual rules of chess? Wouldn't that be an extravagant danger to the men playing?"

"The rules of combat supplant the rules of the game." He spread his hands with their many rings wide. "It is quite intriguing to watch." Barbaric was more like it, Aubrey found herself thinking. He seemed to see her thoughts. "They do not fight with real weapons, Lady Huntingdon, but with practice lathes and padded clubs. No one is hurt." He shrugged. "Unless that is the point of a particular game."

"I see." She smiled. "It sounds fascinating."