The Loyal Heart Read Online Free Page A

him when…”
    “When?”
    “When he was saved.” He soured into a bitter frown at the memory. Buxton’s mouth hung open in mad suspense. He released Crispin before shouting, “Saved? By who?”
    “Ethan of Windale.” Crispin’s voice dropped several registers. His hand closed over the wolf-head dagger in his belt.
    Buxton’s face twisted. Then he erupted into laughter. “No!” He clutched his chest as his body shook with mirth. “You don’t say? Windale! Back from the Crusades at last.” Crispin shifted and glanced up at the ceiling with raw irritation. “Sir Ethan of Windale. The same Windale where-”
    “-I am lord now,” Crispin finished for him, lowering his cold blue eyes to meet Buxton’s.
    Buxton held his breath for a heartbeat then burst into a belly laugh. “What a dilemma,” he teased. “Do you think Windale will ask for his land back?”
    “My lord,” Crispin fought down the bile in his throat, “I have had possession of Windale for almost two years. I have made numerous improvements to the land. The waterwheel has just been finished. The profit I have made, that I will make-”
    “Oh relax, Crispy.” Buxton nudged Crispin’s chest with his stubby fingers. “It’s not like I’d actually give it back to him anyhow.” Crispin let his body unclench a fraction. “It would be cruel to take away your land after you worked so very hard for it.”
    “Thank you, my lord,” he swallowed his offence. He had indeed worked too hard, done too much for what had been given to him to lose it over something as inconsequential as his sense of decency.
    “Besides, Windale was a thorn in my side before he left.” Buxton waved his hand and walked to his hutch. “Always pestering me about his father. Who knows what kind of trouble he would get into if I let him have what was rightfully his.” He glanced up to Crispin with a sinister twinkle in his eyes.
    Crispin lowered his gaze. “He will challenge your authority, my lord.”
    “I wouldn’t worry too much about Windale if I were you,” he sniffed away the problem. “He’s probably tired and war-weary. His only friend is that cripple Morley and what can he do?”
    Crispin’s only answer was to nod. The fire that he had seen in the man’s eyes the night before wouldn’t let him believe for a second that he would slink off and disappear. “My lord, if I may take my leave.” He let his hands fall to his sides. “The gallows need to be prepared for this evening’s entertainment.”
    “Oh yes!” Buxton gasped like a child. “I love a good hanging. How many do we have today?”
    “Just two, my lord,” Crispin muttered through clenched jaw.
    “Guilty of?”
    “Stealing horses.”
    “How charming,” Buxton sighed. “Carry on.”
    Crispin bowed and rushed to leave. He clutched the handle of his dagger and reminded himself of the low hills and swaying fields of Windale as he strode across the hall and started down the long, winding stairs. The land that was now his was worth the price he’d paid for it.
    He descended into the wide front hallway of the castle, dodging busy servants as he fled through the castle’s front door. Buxton was hosting a display far grander than a simple hanging that evening and he was the one who had to organize it. He stopped at the top of the long stone stairway leading to the courtyard and glared at the assortment of merchants delivering their wares and the craftsmen constructing the gallows.
    His heart stopped and his tension melted at the sight of Lady Aubrey riding through the front gate. She sat astride her chestnut horse wearing a flowing green kirtle with a vermillion under-dress. Its wide neckline set off her pale skin and her long neck. She wore her wavy brown hair loose, brushing her shoulders. He could feel her smile across the courtyard. It spread through his chest and filled him with warmth to the pit of his stomach. And lower. She was beautiful.
    For a flicker of a moment he wore a hint of a