by Merry Farmer
“What, are you on her side now?” Ethan interrupted.
“How dare you treat my brother like he’s your lapdog!” Joanna marched back to Ethan’s chair, towering over him. “Don’t you know he-”
“Joanna!” Toby shouted to stop her from saying anything more. He scurried to the table to take a look at the offending pears for himself. “They look quite good, my lord,” he spoke as if coaxing a child. “Maybe if you just….” He dipped one of the slices in the sauce and handed it to Ethan, eyebrows raised.
Ethan took the offering and bit off the end. “You’re right, Toby, they’re quite good.” He sent Joanna a wink and popped the rest of the pear slice into his mouth.
“So help me God,” Joanna started, rushing towards Ethan, fist raised.
“Tom and Madeline have just returned from the forest!” Toby stepped between the two, arms outstretched.
“What did you find?” Ethan’s teasing humor turned to seriousness in a flash. He stretched to look around Toby at Tom.
“Nothing,” Tom shrugged, glancing away, his face flushed with shame on Ethan’s behalf. “They weren’t there. They aren’t anywhere.”
“Come on,” Ethan slouched. “They have to be somewhere. They couldn’t have gotten that far with a couple of strongboxes.”
“Oh please!” Joanna rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, stomping to sit in the chair on the other side of the table.
“What?” Ethan grabbed another slice of pear.
Toby exchanged a pained glance with Tom. He cleared his throat. “My lord, the forest outlaws have amassed considerably more than a few strongboxes worth of spoils.”
Ethan sighed. “We’ve been through this before, Toby. We stopped a dozen carriages at most in the last year.”
“We did,” he scratched his head, wincing, “but the others, Roderick, Connor, that lot, well, my lord, they kept busy.”
Ethan puffed out an incredulous breath. “I don’t think they were in much of a position to do anything. Besides, I gave them strict orders to monitor traffic through the forest only. They wouldn’t disobey my orders.”
Joanna laughed out loud. “Are you sure you didn’t break your head instead of your foot?”
The teasing light in Ethan’s eyes went hard. “I’ll have you know that I don’t tolerate impertinence in everyone,” he scolded her. “I let you get away with it because it amuses me.”
Joanna’s brow arched so high Toby was sure she would fall over. “Is that what you think?” She stood. “I’m not putting up with this anymore.” She headed for the door.
“Joanna!” Ethan called after her. “Joanna stop!” He pushed himself out of his chair and stood on one foot, using the table for support. “Please don’t go!”
Toby blinked wide at the genuine pleading in his master’s voice. His surprise deepened when Joanna froze, clenched her jaw and her fists, drew in a breath, and turned around to face him.
Ethan hopped a step forward. “Okay, for argument’s sake let’s say that the forest people were up to more than I was aware of.” Joanna rolled her eyes. Tom blushed darker and stared at the floor. Toby was fairly certain he was on the verge of bursting into tears. “If they weren’t obeying my orders then whose orders where they obeying?”
“Roderick’s,” all three of them answered simultaneously.
Ethan was taken aback. “You’ve never even met Roderick,” he challenged Joanna. “Besides, Roderick is fifteen. He’s fond of me. He would never disobey me.”
“My lord,” Toby winced. “Roderick is a murderer. And you did throw him off in the end there.”
“No I didn’t,” Ethan argued with a nervous laugh.
“Yes you did,” Tom backed him up.
“And Lydia happens to be his aunt.”
“Ah. Lydia.” He glanced to Joanna, unable to meet her eyes. Joanna’s cheeks darkened several shades. Toby felt a familiar panic begin to rise. “I don’t see why Lydia should matter so much.”
“She pays attention to him,” Toby tried to explain. “She says sweet thing to him.”
“So?” Ethan shrugged.
“A compliment now and then goes a long way,” Tom snapped with enough energy to make Toby jump.
Ethan crossed his arms, leaning his hip against the table for balance. “I compliment you.”
“Not much,” Tom muttered.
“What are you, a girl?” Ethan snorted.
Joanna yelped.
“Anyhow,” Ethan waved the argument away. “That’s not the point. The point is that you are all fooling yourselves if you think that Lydia or Roderick or whoever has more than a few farthings in their pockets as they roam the woods.”
“My lord,” Toby cleared his throat. “I’ve seen it. Tom’s seen it. They have a fortune. Somewhere.”
Ethan furrowed his brow in confusion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tom huffed out a breath. “We did tell you, Ethan. We told you every day. We brought word that Roderick and Connor were getting out of hand. We told you about the carriages being waylaid. We even tried to give you reports about the money. You refused to listen.”
“You weren’t trying hard enough then,” Ethan glared at Tom.
“We weren’t trying hard enough?” Toby took a step back at the sudden explosion coming from Tom. “We were working our fingers to the bone trying to keep things together while you were in your tent rutting with whatever skirt came along! Sorry, Joanna,” he muttered at the end of his rant.
“Not at all,” Joanna’s reply was shrill. She glared fire at Ethan.
“Thanks a lot, Tom!” Ethan’s anger boiled over. Toby wasn’t sure whether his face was flushed from anger or embarrassment.
“I’ve done nothing but watch your back for more than a year!” Tom went on. “I lost my brother because of you!”
“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. “Ea
t 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.