The Loyal Heart Part 11

She wrenched out of his grip as Buxton shouted, "You'll do no such thing!"

Aubrey stopped struggling and Crispin turned to face his master. Buxton had his eyes fixed on Aubrey like a hawk circling its prey. Crispin fought the urge to pick her up and run. "My lord, surely it would harm nothing to let Aubrey visit her friends."

Buxton blanched. "Maybe she would like to join her friends?" His voice was high and reedy. "On the gallows!"

Crispin opened his mouth but Aubrey cut over him with, "Don't be absurd. You can't hang them and you know it." His heart dropped into his stomach.

Buxton chuckled, his eyes demonic. Crispin's blood ran cold. "Crispy, get her out of here." He waved her off as if she was a petulant child.

Crispin grabbed both of her arms and marched her out of the room so fast she stumbled. When he had dragged her down the hallway and up a curved set of stairs to the main hall he spun her to face him and hissed, "Don't ever speak to him like that again!"

Her face went white and she wriggled out of his grasp long enough to smash her palm into the side of his face. His head whipped to the side but he maintained his grip on her other arm.

"I knew it!" she raged at him. "You're no help at all! You're nothing more than his lap dog! You're protecting a cruel, s.a.d.i.s.tic madman!"

He blinked as he realized her a.s.sumptions and held her tighter. "I'm protecting you!" He felt her go limp for a moment and sucked in a breath to steady himself. He closed his eyes and forced himself to calm. "Aubrey, he was about to kill you."

"What? No!" Her voice tipped close to a squeak. Then she blew out a frustrated breath. "No he wasn't."

"Yes, he was." He shook her hard to prove his point.

A flash of movement caught the corner of his eye and he glanced up to see a familiar man with red hair leaning against the wall far at the other end of the hall. The man twitched his hands towards his belt. He had a concealed weapon.

Crispin glanced back to Aubrey. "Aubrey, stay away from Buxton."

"I don't need you to protect me." She struggled out of his grip. Her eyes flicked to the red-headed man and he s.h.i.+fted in his place, dropping his arms.

"Who is he," Crispin rumbled. "I recognize him."

"I don't know what you're talking about." A sharp jerk of jealousy raked across his gut. "I need to see my friends, Crispin." Her tone changed and she leaned into him. "Sister Bernadette could be dying."

He forced himself to breath, to ignore the closeness of her body. She was playing him. She would win if he let her. "They're safe. Sister Bernadette's ribs were bruised, but she's resting comfortably. They're being well looked after. I promise you."

Aubrey relaxed and stood back. As she turned off her charm he felt all warmth seep away from him. It ached. "You can't keep them locked up like that forever, Crispin."

"I know." It took all of his effort to let her go. He straightened and dropped his hands to his side. His face throbbed where she'd struck him. "Buxton is already distracting himself with some other quest for glory. He'll soon get tired of having them around and then-"

"He'll hang them?"

He frowned at her. "He'll let them go. Quietly."

She crossed her arms. "How can you be sure?"

"Because I know him."

She huffed out a laugh. "How can I trust you?"

His eyes snapped to hers, heart hammering in his chest. He could spill it all out to her, tell her everything he felt for her ... and she would slap him again. "Trust me."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. Her doubt shredded him. "Fine." The single word rang with loss. She turned on her heel and marched off. The red-haired man was already gone and she turned down a corridor in the opposite direction.

Crispin stared at the corner where she had disappeared then glanced over his shoulder to the stairs that lead to the War Room. He turned and dragged himself to the stairs. Buxton would be waiting.

Aubrey wound through the castle and pa.s.sed through the kitchen on her way outside. Her hand pulsed with a dull pain where she'd slapped Crispin. Her efforts to set her friends free had been ramming up against wall after wall for days. Ethan had run off to Matlock and Geoffrey had sent his steward Henry to rail at her to come home rather than lending his influence to battle Buxton. She had known the direct approach would fail, but Crispin had swept her away from Buxton so fast she would have had better luck sending him a message by pigeon.

"Oy!" Jack's strained whisper caught her when she marched through the small archway into the castle's back garden. He jumped into step with her as they circled through the garden to stand under the north face of the tower. "I take it your negotiations went belly up?"

She glared sideways at him and crossed her arms, focusing on the window at the top of the High Tower. "Apparently Buxton was seconds away from killing me."

Jack's eyebrow twitched. "Was he?" She stared at him, jaw clenched. "Right. Well you showed Crispin then, didn't'cha."

"He deserved it." She fought the urge to gloat.

"Whatever you say, mate." Jack's expression blossomed into humor.

Aubrey bit back the urge to smack him as hard as she'd hit Crispin. She turned her attention up to the small window at the top of the tower. "Have you seen them?"

"Nah." Jack crossed his arms in mirror of her. "Not since yesterday." He frowned. "MP looked like she wanted to say somethin' but there was guards crawlin' everywhere."

Aubrey nodded. "She'd have to shout to be heard."

Jack s.h.i.+fted his weight, dropped his arms, and raised a hand to stroke his goatee. "Not if I was at that window right there." He pointed to another small window several feet below the North Room. "What's up there, do ya reckon?"

"Guest rooms, if memory serves."

"Any guests?"

The thrill of a plan shot through Aubrey's blood. "Not that I know of." Her small mouth widened into a grin as she and Jack shared a mischievous glance. "It's just one floor under the top of the tower."

"With its eight guards," Jack finished. "We could take 'em. What with you dressed as the Bandit and all."

He was teasing her. Strangely enough she didn't mind. She shook her head. "My clothes are still packed. Besides, if the Bandit is seen in the tower we'll have bigger problems on our hands than nuns."

"What about after dark then?"

They could sneak up to the High Tower, find a way to draw Madeline or Sister Bernadette to the window, and let them know that they were doing their best to free them. They might even be able to give them a clue as to how to work around Buxton and his cronies. Hope at last.

"Tonight." Aubrey nodded once. Her shoulders relaxed for the first time in days. They were going to do something.

Chapter Eight.

With no festivities to draw gawking n.o.bles, Derby Castle was sleepy after dark. Aubrey had expected to have to press herself into shadows and hide in alcoves to avoid being discovered. But by the time she and Jack snuck up the dark stairs to the High Tower, most of the servants had gone to bed and neither Buxton nor Crispin had been seen for hours.

The lack of opposition set Aubrey's nerves on edge. She took the lead, creeping up flight after flight with silent steps. Jack could keep quiet when he had half a mind to. They made it to the landing below the top floor of the tower without so much as a sneeze.

The m.u.f.fled sound of guards chattering drifted down to them. Aubrey strained to listen but couldn't make out a word. Good. She turned to Jack and gestured across the hallway. He jumped out in front of her, blending into the dark as he felt his way along the torchless hallway to a door at the far end. A long coil of rope was wrapped around his waist. Aubrey had been far too wary to bother asking him what it was for. She held her breath as he creaked the door open and listened for any sign that they had been heard as Jack rushed into the room.

There was a m.u.f.fled thump and thud. She rushed into the room behind Jack as he sc.r.a.ped himself up off the floor and righted a dusty chair.

"Didn't see it," he muttered. He made far too much noise as he sc.r.a.ped the chair back to the table before hurrying on to the window. Then he banged open the shutters and thrust his head out into the June air. "Oy!" he called up to the North Room.

"Jack!" She hissed. He ignored her. "Ss.h.!.+"

He whistled, focused on the window above. She glanced over her shoulder, panic rising through her stomach to her throat. There was no point in talking to their friends if Jack's noise got them caught.

Sparing one brief glance at him hanging so far out the window that a strong wind could have blown him to his death, she dashed into the hall. When she reached the landing she climbed a few stairs to listen to the conversation of the guards to judge if they'd been overheard. The tone of the conversation had changed. They still chattered, but it was no longer the dull drone of bored men.

Jack braced himself on the sill and studied the window above him. The shutters were open to let the cooling night breeze in. "Oy! MP!" He was a blithering fool for making so much noise, but he couldn't help himself.

He s.h.i.+fted against the windowsill and opened his mouth to call again when a shadow appeared at the window. He burst into a grin.

"Jack! What are you doing?" Madeline's close-cropped hair and slender shoulders with a gray shawl around them popped through the window.

Her face was bathed in shadow. "I'm tryin' to talk to you," he drawled, his heart light enough to give him wings.

She giggled. In light of the circ.u.mstances it was enough to make him lose his grip, and a lot more. "Jack, you shouldn't be here. If the guards catch you...."

"Nah. Them guards'll never catch me. Hold on." He ducked back into the room and unwound the rope from his waist. A large knot had been tied in one end. He leaned out the window holding the rope. "Think you can catch this?"

"I...," Madeline stammered then nodded with another giggle.

Jack swung the rope and tossed the knot up to Madeline. She missed. "'S alright. Try again." He swung again. This time she caught it.

"Now what do I do?"

"Tie it to somethin' heavy."

She disappeared into the room and Jack let the rope slide through his hands as she found something to tie it to. The rope jerked for several seconds as she worked, then went still. She reappeared at the window. "It's tied to the bed."

b.l.o.o.d.y good choice.

"Right. I'm comin' up."

"Jack, no! It's too-"

Madeline's protests were in vain. Before she could finish he had heaved himself hand over hand until he gripped the outside of her windowsill, face inches from hers.

"Oy, lovely evenin' we're havin'." He grinned like a fool as Madeline slapped her hands to her mouth. The North Room was small but richly decorated. Sister Bernadette lay in its one large bed and both she and Madeline wore threadbare nightdresses. A small pile of dishes from their evening meal still sat on the table and their habits were folded across the chest at the foot of the bed. "Nice place you got here."

"Young man," Sister Bernadette's voice wavered as she struggled to sit up, "you will remove yourself from our window at once."

A streak of temper ruined Jack's fun. "I'm tryin' to organize your rescue."

"Your efforts are not appropriate." She flicked a glance to Madeline that flushed the young woman's cheeks scarlet. "We will be released in good time."

Jack blew out a breath, knuckles white on the windowsill and arms beginning to ache. "From what I hear Buxton's not the sort to let his guests give him the slip."

Sister Bernadette was unruffled. "Sir Crispin has given us his word-" She stopped short at Jack's derogatory snort and stared hard at him. He withered under her look.

Jack glanced to Madeline, drawing her closer with a flick of his head. "How is she? Only, Aubrey said she's hurt."

Madeline's lips pinched in worry. "I think it's worse than she's letting on. She's been stoic but," she glanced over her shoulder, "she's not eating much and her ribs are too sore to touch. If I could just get her back to the convent. We have a hospital there."

"Right." Jack nodded, adjusting his grip on the ledge and leaning closer still. "If we could just-"

"That's quite enough of that, young man!" Sister Bernadette misinterpreted his closeness to Madeline.

"Look, I'm sorry I-" His words caught in his throat as Sister Bernadette leaned over and began picking at the knot tying the rope to the bedpost. "You'd never!"

"I suggest, Mr. Tanner, that you descend before I free this knot."

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l," Jack muttered under his breath, earning a gasp from Madeline. His muscles ached as he clasped the rope.

"Wait! Jack!" Madeline dashed to the bedside table to grab a folded sc.r.a.p of parchment then flew back to the window. Jack's wide eyes met hers. "I ... I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to get this to you." She held the letter out to him.

He stared at it, hands tight around the rope. "Right." The rope jerked against the windowsill. Panicked, Madeline shook the letter for a moment before cramming it into his mouth. He raised his eyebrows at her then s.h.i.+mmied back to the window below.

The rope shook as he reached the window and swung for the ledge. He cursed and the letter spilled out of his mouth. For half a second he watched it flutter down to the garden below and hissed a louder curse. He grabbed the windowsill and pulled himself into the room as the rope came loose and slithered out the upper window.

As he thumped to the floor Madeline screamed.

Aubrey stood on the landing at the base of the stairs, listening to the guards. They paused. She swallowed and climbed a few more stairs. Slowly the conversation resumed. She snuck higher. The conversation paused again.

"... probably just praying or something."

"Praying? At this time of night?"

Aubrey swallowed and climbed as high as she could without being seen.

"I dunno, maybe just talking. Nuns can talk, can't they."

"We should check on them." A chair clattered as someone stood. Heavy footsteps followed.

She surged into action, mounting the last few steps into the light of the hallway with as calm an expression as she could manage. The guards stopped what they were doing. The one who had jumped up from his stool and was only feet from the door to the North Room paused and turned to her. The others scrambled to their feet and two or three of them reached for their weapons.

"What are you doing here?"

"I ... I want to see the nuns," she sputtered.

The guard frowned and marched towards her. "They're to have no visitors."