The Faithful Heart (33 page)

“Jack is a lying, traitorous-”

“Jack is on the verge of sacrificing
everything for the sake of hundreds of people he doesn’t even
know!”

“So?” Ethan shrugged. “When I get Windale
back-”

“Good God!” Joanna threw up her arms.

Tom shook his head. “Jack was right. This
whole time Jack was right. Why did I ever listen to you? He’s out
there, a lord now, working tirelessly for goodness and order while
you’re lazing around in this dungeon.”

“I’m not here because I want to be!”

“You know what?” Tom huffed. “Forget this. I
should have gone with Jack when he asked me to.”

“He asked you to-”

“Yes! And not going with him was the biggest
mistake of my life! I’m through with you, Ethan.” He started for
the door. “Jack needs my help.”

“I need your help!” Ethan shouted after
him.

“No you don’t.” He hardly broke stride. “You
need a swift kick in the ass.” He turned the corner and was
gone.

“Tom!” Ethan shouted after him. “That filthy
peasant bastard!”

Joanna bristled. Toby reached out to steady
her but she was beyond comfort. She marched straight up to Ethan
and jabbed a finger in his chest. He wobbled and gripped the table
for balance. “You can fetch your own pears from now on,” her voice
shook with quiet fury. “It might do you good to work for a change!”
She spun on her heel and charged out of the room.

“Joanna!” Ethan hopped after her, voice
cracking. “Come back! I was only teasing! Joanna, please!”

He lost his balance a few feet from the
table. Toby rushed to catch him, propping him with his shoulder.
With a heavy sigh Toby walked him back to his chair. “Have another
pear, my lord.” He could barely speak through the sadness in his
soul.

“I suppose you’re going to walk out on me now
too,” Ethan said, staring at the pears without taking one.

“No, Ethan, I will never leave you,” Toby
mumbled. He had to bite his lip to keep it from quivering as he
watched the empty doorway, praying someone would come back.

“Sit down then,” Ethan grumbled. Toby slumped
into the chair as ordered. “Eat a pear.” Ethan shoved the plate to
Toby’s side of the table. Toby took a slice but couldn’t bring it
to his lips. After a long silence Ethan asked, “Is there really all
that much money?”

“Yes, there is,” Toby sighed.

Another silence filled up the room.

“What would you do if we found that money?”
Ethan asked at length.

How wonderful that would be. “Honestly, my
lord, I would give it to Jack-”

“-so he can get rid of Lydia and marry
Madeline,” Ethan finished for him. Toby glanced across the table.
So he had been listening to all of their plans and conversations.
Ethan rewarded him with a weak grin. “And what do you supposed Lord
John would do if he was suddenly the richest man in the shire.”

“My lord, you know he intends to give it all
to pay the king’s ransom.”

Ethan snorted and ate a slice of pear. His
expression cooled from petulant to thoughtful. “I want to give that
money for the king’s ransom too, though it will hardly be a drop in
the bucket.” Toby stared at him, wary of where he was going with
his thoughts. Ethan shifted to face him, eyes alight again. “I
could ride a horse, even with this foot. It’s well on its way to
healing anyhow. We know the forest better than anyone else. What if
we were to reclaim the money and take it to London ourselves?”

“It’s sure to be guarded, my lord, and there
are just two of us.”

Ethan shook his head. “With only two of us we
can slip in and take it while they’re sleeping.”

Toby opened his mouth to explain the
impossible logistics of two men, one crippled the other a weakling,
attempting to steal one or more carriages loaded with treasure. He
shut his mouth with a sigh. There was no way it would work, but
Ethan wasn’t going to listen to reason. “I don’t see how that would
help Jack.”

“I don’t care about Jack. But if we presented
the money to the crown I bet the king himself would return Windale
to me!”

Toby’s jaw hung open. He tried to say
something but only blubbering sounds came out. Could Ethan’s
obsession with Windale have driven him mad in earnest? He took a
deep breath and let it out. “Alright, my lord. If you want to go
back into the forest to look for your lost treasure then we’ll go.”
If nothing else he would take Ethan out and show him the truth.

“That’s the kind of loyalty I like to see,”
Ethan sent a confident grin across the table. “It’ll be just like
the missions we used to go on in the Holy Land. You and me, united
against the enemy. We’ll set out at first light tomorrow.”

“We will,” Toby returned his enthusiasm with
a sad smile. “Everything will be alright.

Even riding at top speed through the rain it
was still dark by the time Madeline made it to Kedleridge. Most of
the cottages had their shutters close and the half-constructed
homes Jack was having built for the forest people were covered with
tarps and tents. She dismounted as far as she could from the
brightly lit manor house. As important as it was for her to speak
to Simon it was even more important that she avoid Lydia. She
didn’t trust her boy’s clothes to be disguise enough where that
witch was concerned.

The family who already lived in the
incomplete house was more than happy to care for her horse when she
told them she was a friend of Lord John’s. She left the mount there
and slipped through the rain-drenched streets to the orchard. The
manor’s back door and pantry were far enough away from the heart of
the house that she was able to creep inside without anyone more
than the kitchen maid Imogen seeing her, and Imogen knew her.
Madeline held a finger to her lips to keep the girl quiet. Imogen
nodded and glanced up to the second floor of the house before
walking on to the main hall. Lydia was upstairs. The only thing to
do was wait.

Lucky for her she didn’t have to wait
long.

“My lady, what are you doing here?” Simon
whispered as he strode town the servant’s hall toward the pantry
where she stood dripping. “Imogen said-”

“I had to speak to you, Simon,” she surged
forward and grabbed his arms.

He held her in return. For a fleeting moment
Madeline felt as though she was safe in a loving father’s arms.
Simon glanced back over his shoulder. “Lydia hasn’t gone to bed
yet. Where is Jack? Did he come with you?”

She shook her head. “He’s busy at the castle.
Pennington, the emissary from London, has come back. Simon, he’s
planning to take everything in Derby Castle’s treasury to London
immediately.” Simon’s frown darkened. “We need to get our hands on
Lydia’s money now.”

“Have you had any luck finding it?”

“No,” she sighed. “And Jack cornered me in
the castle today.” Her cheeks flared pink at the memory of his
kiss, his arms around her, the passion that nearly boiled over.

“What did he say? Did he upset you?” Simon
narrowed his eyes.

She gazed up to him. “He said that you should
have been the lord of Kedleridge. Is it true? Was the late lord
your father?”

Simon let go of her and stepped back,
glancing away. “He was, much good that it did me.”

A thrill of hope zipped through her at the
confession. “No, Simon, it does us every good!”

The emotion drained out of his face and he
stood with his back rod-straight, fatherly warmth gone. “My lady,
it is late. Perhaps I can persuade a local family to let you stay
with them for the night….”

“Simon! Where are you?” Lydia’s whine cut
through the conversation. “Simon!” Her footfalls echoed closer.

Simon’s eyes widened. “Hide!” He grabbed her
arm and spun her around towards a small door, opening it and
shoving her inside what turned out to be a broom closet. He closed
the door on her before she had a chance to protest.

“There you are!” Lydia’s voice sang a moment
later. “What are you doing all the way down here?” Fury shot down
Madeline’s spine at the seductive drawl in the witch’s words.

“I was just cleaning up.” Madeline’s eyebrows
shot to her brow as Simon answered her with the same heated purr in
his voice. Her heart dropped to her stomach.

“Well,” she heard Lydia slide her arms onto
Simon’s shoulders. “Since we have the whole manor to ourselves
maybe we should scrub it from top to bottom, very, very hard.”

Madeline screwed up her face, feeling
sick.

“I thought you didn’t like to clean,” Simon
replied in that voice that was the opposite of everything she knew
about him.

“I suppose I could be persuaded.”

“You could always be persuaded, Lydia.”
Madeline’s skin prickled. “By just about anyone that crossed your
path if I remember correctly.”

“Were you jealous?” The witch didn’t even try
to deny Simon’s implication.

“Was I?” Simon didn’t answer her
question.

“I think you were. I think you married
Charlotte to get back at me.”

The sound of Simon pushing Lydia away
filtered through the door. “I married Charlotte because I loved her
very much.”

“Now, now, Simon, don’t be like that.
Charlotte is dead, so what does it matter. You and I were the ones
who were meant to be together.”

“We were?”

“Oh yes. You were my first. You never truly
get over your first love.”

Simon made some sort of noise in his throat
that may or may not have been agreement. Madeline wished she could
see his expression. The hall grew too quiet. Dear God, she hoped
they weren’t kissing!

“It’s late, Lydia, and I have work that still
needs doing.” No, his voice was too far from Lydia for them to have
kissed. “Go to bed.”

“Alone?” she coaxed.

“For now, yes.”

Simon’s voice was silken once more. Madeline
frowned.

Lydia sighed. “I suppose the least I could do
would be to go to bed and dream of ....” She left her sentence
hanging, the sound of rustling cloth filling the silence.

Madeline held her breath and listened for all
she was worth. She heard the swish of Lydia’s gown and the tap of
her footsteps as she walked away. They disappeared but it was still
several minutes before the door to her closet flew open and Simon
pulled her out. His face was flushed. He marched her a few paces up
the hall to another door. This one lead to a small bedroom. He
carried her in then shut the door behind him.

“What are you doing?” she burst into a
whispered accusation, unable to help herself.

“Playing to Lydia’s weaknesses,” he answered
without apology. “My lady, you need to leave here at once. It’s far
too dangerous.”

“Too dangerous? Too dangerous? That’s all
anyone ever says to me!” She threw up her hands. “I’m made of
stronger stuff than anyone seems to think.”

“Yes, my lady, I agree. And so is Lydia.”

Madeline opened her mouth to protest but
thought better of it. She had a mission. “So you are the rightful
heir to Kedleridge, aren’t you?” she launched back into the infant
plan she’d been working on since Jack revealed the truth.

“I am not,” he shook his head, gesturing for
her to be quiet. “Jack was granted that privilege by Prince
John.”

“But if he hadn’t been then it would be
you.”

“Bastards are not considered heirs at all, my
lady.”

“But it has happened before. Illegitimate
children have inherited their father’s titles when no legitimate
heirs exist, don’t deny it.”

He narrowed his eyes as he caught on to what
she was suggesting. “In the very rarest of cases.”

“So if you were made lord of Kedleridge
instead of Jack then he, well, he would just be Jack Tanner again,
wouldn’t he.”

“No.” Simon’s answer was as firm as if he had
written it in stone.

“But if Jack were no longer a lord Lydia
would want nothing to do with him. He would be free!”

“It is impossible, my lady. And even if it
were possible I would refuse.”

Madeline heaved out a frustrated sigh. “But
why, Simon? Why would you refuse when it could very well save
Jack’s life? His soul?”

“Because it would damn mine!” he shouted. As
soon as the words were out he winced. “It would damn mine,” he
repeated in a whisper.

She bit her lip, frustration making her
squirm. “How would claiming a title that should have been yours all
along damn your soul?” she lowered her voice to a soft murmur.

“Because….” To her surprise he blinked up at
the ceiling as if he, Simon McFarland, would cry. He took a deep
breath, squaring his shoulders. “Because for me the position comes
with blood on it.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

He dropped his shoulders and his head.
“Roderick, my son, my only living child believed his whole life
that I was the rightful lord of Kedleridge. He … Lord Hugh did not
treat him well. He didn’t treat anyone well,” he admitted with a
sigh. “Roderick continually spoke out about how I should be lord.
He spoke out too much and was punished. And then one day I came
back from overseeing the planting to find my son with a knife stuck
in my father’s throat.”

Madeline gasped, covering her mouth as tears
sprung to her eyes.

Simon rubbed his forehead and went on. “He
said that he’d killed Lord Hugh so that I could take my place as
rightful lord of Kedleridge. He did it for me. He killed a man, a
lord, my father, for my sake.” He swallowed. “When I brought him to
justice instead of taking control of the estate as he’d intended he
turned on me. That’s when he escaped and ran away. The shock broke
his mother’s heart and she-” He choked on the words, blinking and
turning away. Madeline’s tears burst. Simon recovered enough to
finish. “I wish he’d never been caught, my lady, but I can’t change
what he did. I … I care very deeply for Jack and for you. More than
you can imagine. But if somehow you are suggesting that I attempt
to usurp Jack, no, I will not. He is the rightful lord by royal
decree.”