Thrill Of The Knight Page 5

  Anne sighed as she uncovered the tray. “I had thought we could have a long conversation.”

  “I did, too. But there truly isn’t much to tell. Bannaster left for London this morn, so that is a relief. Adalia agreed to run the household for me, so that none of the servants would forget that I’m now supposed to be you.”

  “This must be so confusing for everyone,” Anne said, and then bit into her buttered bread.

  “It is. I finally let myself remain in the great hall for a more extended period of time. All are cautious and quiet, but no one has made a mistake.”

  “But there are so many others to worry about!”

  “I know, but at least I have proof that news of my identity has spread to the villagers. Rachel the healer came up to tend two wounded travelers, and she knew our secret.”

  “Thank goodness!” Anne said as she began to eat her pottage.

  “I can see Milburn’s plans for me.”

  Anne gasped. “But I thought you said—”

  “Nothing villainous,” Elizabeth hurried to assure her. “But he’s finding every reason to keep me from you. That is why I’m so late. He had me tend the travelers, and then assist Rachel.”

  “Travelers?”

  “A bailiff and his clerk.” Elizabeth hesitated, and knew she’d made a mistake by the way Anne’s eyes sharpened.

  “So what is so interesting about these travelers?” Anne asked.

  “They were wounded by thieves,” Elizabeth answered, trying to sound indifferent. “The bailiff ’s leg is broken, so they will be with us until Rachel claims them fit to travel.”

  “I repeat, what is so interesting about these travelers?”

  Elizabeth felt a fiery blush sweep over her face. “The bailiff…looked at me with interest.”

  “As if all men don’t do that?” Anne said, the hint of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth.

  “Nay, it was not the same. Noblemen look at me with a covetous intent—as a prize to win. Hence Lord Bannaster’s behavior.”

  “Elizabeth,” Anne began gently.

  “It is foolish of me to care, I know. I am already a betrothed woman, and I need not concern myself with such men. But Sir John—” she added.

  “He is a knight?”

  “Aye, with the body of a warrior.”

  Anne sat back in her chair. “It is so?”

  “I was forced to help Rachel,” Elizabeth defended herself. “I tried not to look.”

  “But he was looking at you,” Anne said.

  Elizabeth reluctantly nodded. “He watches me as if I’m…just a woman, not an heiress, not a prize.”

  “I have always been worried that some day a man like this would come along to distract you.”

  “William treated me as a woman,” Elizabeth whispered, surprised to find tears so close to the surface. “The romantic letters he wrote me, the way he stared at me whenever we were together. The beauty of his face—”

  Anne hesitated. “You only saw him but once a year, Elizabeth. I know he is dead now, and can never prove himself to you, but—”

  “He had already done so,” Elizabeth insisted. “I will never forget what it was like to be worshiped for my femininity, for my grace. That’s not the way this bailiff makes me feel.”

  “Then how?”

  “I feel…a strange excitement that is of the flesh.” Elizabeth covered her face. “I cannot believe I am speaking of this foolishness. How are you, dear Anne?”

  Anne looked suspicious of the change in conversation, but she accepted it without complaint. “I am lonely, of course, but that is no terrible thing compared to what can befall a woman.”

  “Just tell me what I can bring you to ease your day.”

  “Well, I am taking Lord Bannaster’s advice by reading the Bible.”

  Elizabeth groaned. “Do not let the man hear you say that! His self-confidence already fills every room he enters.”

  Anne laughed, and Elizabeth was pleased by the return of her friend’s good spirits.

  “Bring me things from the sewing room to mend,” Anne continued. “Though I know you think otherwise, there are only so many hours in the day one can create pictures with embroidery.”

  “You have your lute,” Elizabeth said.

  “And no one’s voice to accompany.”

  “I am so sorry,” she whispered, taking Anne’s hand. “All of this is my fault. If you hadn’t been here with me when we were invaded, you would be safe at home.”

  “On my father’s farm, waiting for my parents to find a man they think worthy enough to marry me. The miller was last being discussed, and I guess I should be happy, because he has only one dead wife, two children, and most of his teeth. Nay,” she continued, lifting a hand when Elizabeth would have interrupted, “I am content to help you, my friend.”

  Elizabeth hugged her swiftly. “I will return with your dinner as soon as I can.”

  Anne gave her a crooked smile. “My thanks. So what will you do until I see you next at dinner?”

  “Study how Milburn is running my castle, see how well his soldiers obey him—oh, and take care of two travelers.”

  “Then I wish you good luck, though you won’t need it. You always succeed, Elizabeth. And now that I know Bannaster is gone, I feel much better about your safety.”

  With the covered tray in her hands, Elizabeth looked back over her shoulder at Anne. “I wish I felt safe. I only feel exposed and vulnerable, and so worried for my people. But I will take your courage with me, Anne.”

  When Elizabeth walked through the great hall on the way to the kitchens to return the tray, she felt herself being watched. But instead of her own people’s sympathetic gazes, she saw several soldiers lounging at a table, leering at her. When they realized she noticed them, they called out to her, beckoning as they crudely laughed. She hurried as quickly as she could, still shocked to find herself feeling frightened within her own castle.

  Milburn watched her with a frown. “Come here, Anne,” he called, dismissing the soldier he’d been talking to.

  Elizabeth approached him and curtsied. “Aye, Master Milburn?”

  “Lady Elizabeth is well?”

  “She is.”

  “I imagine she used a woman’s tears to try to enlist you to persuade me to release her.”

  “Nay, she did not,” Elizabeth said. “She knows you serve Lord Bannaster and would not disobey him.”

  Milburn nodded. “Very well. But understand that I will no longer accept your disobedience.”

  Elizabeth gaped at him. “But I didn’t—”

  “And now you dare to speak back to me.”

  Milburn took several steps closer, as if to impress on her by his height and scowl that he was her master.

  “I ordered you to see to the needs of our guests.”

  They were “guests” now, not just stranded travelers? Elizabeth thought with suspicion.

  “If you cannot see to your mistress in a more timely manner, then I will assign a guard to accompany you to the tower. Do I make myself clear?”

  Keeping her eyes lowered, Elizabeth nodded. To her shock, Milburn took the tray from her hands and threw it across the room, where it clattered to the floor, spreading its contents. The few servants stared in shock, while the soldiers guffawed. She felt frightened to be the center of so much attention, so very vulnerable. She had thought the plan to exchange places was smart, but now she saw that, as a maid, she was still at the mercy of others.

  Milburn folded his arms over his chest, not even bothering to gloat. Impassively, he said, “Now clean that, and then see to Sir John. As a bailiff, he is a valuable man, one I might find a place for.”

  “Aye, Master Milburn.” Elizabeth saw the threat for what it was. Milburn would use every means possible to keep her busy and away from the tower. What would she do if he assigned someone else to serve Anne in her place? Elizabeth could not afford to anger him again.

  Chapter 5

  When someone knocked on
the door that afternoon, John exchanged a glance with Philip, who quickly got back on his pallet. He’d been observing the inner ward through the window, narrating for John, who felt restless and bored, something he wasn’t used to. By lucky coincidence, the tiltyard was within sight, and they could assess the knights training and count their numbers.

  When Philip was ready, John called, “Come in.”

  It was the maid Anne. John watched her walk through the room, admiring the graceful way she moved. She kept her eyes downcast, and he thought a faint blush lingered on her cheeks. He wished even a strand of hair had escaped her wimple, so that he could form a better picture of her, but she was all done up tightly.

  She carried two tankards of ale that she set on the table between them. When she finally looked at him, he smiled at her.

  Her eyes widened, and then she covered her mouth to hide a laugh.

  John blinked in surprise. “Not the greeting I expected.”

  “If you could see the swelling on your face, Sir John,” she said in a melodious voice that struggled to hide amusement, “you would understand.”

  John frowned at Philip, who shrugged and said, “I wasn’t going to tell you.”

  “And you have two black eyes,” John pointed out.

  “And your bruises have swollen to interesting shapes as they take on the many hues of a rainbow,” Philip said.

  Philip glanced at Anne, who gave him back a curious glance.

  “You speak very freely to your master,” she said.

  “I have given him permission,” John explained. “We have always traveled much together, and the constant politeness and reserve grew boring.”

  “He can be reserved?” Anne asked, wearing a faint smile.

  “I am quite a serious fellow,” Philip insisted.

  John sensed that he had captured her amusement for only a very brief time as already her thoughts were turning to the dilemma that faced her mistress. She was glancing at the door in worry.

  “You are forced to be here with us?” John asked.

  Her gaze darted back to him in surprise—and then anger, with a trace of fear.

  “Forgive me, Anne,” he said before she could speak. “I did not mean you to think that I would ever consider reporting anything you did to the steward. It is Alderley’s steward you fear, is it not?”

  “He’s not our steward.” Her face paled, as she seemed to realize what she’d said.

  She glanced at Philip, who excused himself and left the bedchamber. John was alone with Anne now, and much as it felt very intimate, he wanted to use that intimacy to uncover more of what was happening at Castle Alderley.

  John frowned. “Master Milburn is not your steward?”

  She sighed. “Our steward, Royden, suddenly fell ill and died.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “It is not your fault.”

  “Whose fault is it?”

  She opened her mouth as if she would speak, then she merely sighed and shook her head. “Lord Bannaster gave us the use of his steward.”

  “Out of guilt?” John asked.

  She shrugged.

  “But you wish to be with your mistress.”

  “It is my place.”

  “And someone is forbidding it.”

  She watched him with consideration. He saw a keen intelligence in her eyes, and recognized that he could not sway her so easily. The women he was used to treated a man with subservience for the coin it would bring them.

  John added, “Because Lady Elizabeth is in seclusion.”

  Anne nodded, her impatience evident.

  “Then I guess today I can understand how your mistress feels,” he said.

  Anne’s eyes flared to life. “You are only here because of infirmity, not the will of others.” She bit her lip as if in regret, backing away. “Excuse me, I have duties.”

  John decided to push a little harder. “You’re not saying anything that has not already spread by rumor to places nearby.”

  She halted, and the surprise showed on her face. “People are talking about…my mistress?”

  “We heard of Lady Elizabeth’s imprisonment yesterday morn.”

  “And that is why you came here?” she asked in bewilderment.

  “Nay.” He wasn’t ready to tell anyone his real identity. But these words were common knowledge. He smiled and pointed to his injured leg. “This is why I came here. After all, I am not a man of influence with an army to command. I will admit that I did not believe the rumor. I thought it far too bold for a man to attempt on the daughter of an earl.”

  “He is the king’s cousin,” she said softly.

  “And this gives him the right to imprison an heiress?”

  “He thinks so.” She stiffened. “But this is not your concern, Sir John.”

  “It is obvious I will be unable to travel anytime soon, so I thought it best to understand what was happening.”

  “And you think you know?” she said, with slight mockery.

  She was not a woman used to being under the authority of a man. Was she like Philip, treated as an equal?

  “Nay, I freely confess my ignorance,” John said.

  When she made to leave, he knew he should not push her any further.

  “Wait, Anne. I know that it is not my place to offer advice, but should you ever need someone to confide in—”

  But he had miscalculated. Her eyes hardened and all emotion faded.

  “I met you this morn, Sir John,” she said impassively. “The fact that you are interested in so personal a matter as Lady Elizabeth—”

  “Does she not want aid?”

  “And how is she supposed to know whom she can trust?” Anne demanded. “After all, the cousin of the king himself felt free to abuse his privileges as a guest. Are you trying to do the same?”

  He knew he could not earn her trust in only a span of hours, but there was something about her that made him feel as if he knew her already. She was too proud to show him her fear, had learned too well the lesson that men could not be trusted. He would have to start all over again.

  “Forgive me, Anne,” he said. “It has always been my nature to try to help.”

  “That is not something I find trustworthy,” she answered, lifting her chin. “Already Master Milburn says he might find a place for you here. Think you that that should inspire my trust? Perhaps you are only another dependent of the viscount’s.”

  “Anne, that’s not true.”

  But she’d already turned about and was striding to the door, impressive in her cool anger and contempt. When the door shut, it opened again almost immediately, but John knew better than to be hopeful.

  Philip closed the door behind him. “By the expression on her face, that did not go well.”

  “I am farther away from earning her trust than I was this morn as a complete stranger.” He flopped back on his cushion in disgust, feeling the pain in his leg flare to life.

  “Why do you push so hard?”

  “Because we don’t know how much time we have before Bannaster returns, perhaps with an agreement from the king. And because—” John found himself staring at the door uneasily. “There is something about her that makes me want to befriend her.”

  Philip snorted. “‘Befriend’? So that’s what you call it?”

  John frowned.

  Elizabeth was so angry, she had to force herself to slow down and walk tentatively into the great hall as a servant might. She had lost her temper; she had lost control of her masquerade as Anne. She had argued with a man she knew nothing about, risking discovery.

  What did it matter that Sir John knew of her imprisonment in the tower? With an estate this size, it would only be natural that people would hear of it.

  But then wouldn’t someone come to help? she thought, her stomach tightening, her eyes tearing. Had she no neighbors willing to confront Lord Bannaster?

  It was still early, she told herself. Less than two days had gone by, and just because the news had traveled among
a few men at a tavern, did not mean it would reach her nearest wealthy neighbor, Lord Selby, who was a half day’s journey away. If Parliament was in session, he might even be in London with the rest of the county’s noblemen.

  Elizabeth lowered her gaze to hide her watery eyes. Luckily, only a young groom tended the fire, and a maidservant laid out tablecloths on the trestle tables that had been set up for the coming meal. After one brief glance, both of them studiously ignored her, and she was grateful. She wondered where Milburn was, if he was inspecting her property and cataloguing its worth.

  Elizabeth sat down before the hearth and hugged herself, feeling like she could never be warm again. Nay, Lord Selby would not be quick to help her. His son had been one of her recent foolish suitors. For all she knew, Lord Selby had stolen her sheep to try to force her to accept his son’s protection.

  Maybe her neighbors thought she was too sure of herself, that maybe a man’s guardianship was the best thing to happen to her.

  This self-pity had to end, she told herself, wiping her eyes furiously. She was down here among her people to take stock of her situation, not whine over how she wished things were different. She would go for a walk through the ward, see how her people were being treated by Bannaster’s soldiers.

  She would not think of the sympathy in Sir John’s eyes. He was a simple bailiff, with nothing of his own. He could not help her; she sensed he might only be trying because he wanted to be closer to her.

  And she wasn’t in the mood to be courted as the future wife of a bailiff. She was the future wife of a baron, a man destined to be earl. She barely remembered John Russell except for his awkward body, and the way she’d occasionally caught him staring at her.

  Was he as dead as his brothers? Could she really be a woman any man with an army could take for his own?

  The death of her dreams ached within her heart. She had always thought she’d have a life like her parents, who were friends since childhood, then had a marriage of love and understanding. But her father hadn’t been granted the earldom during those years; there was no great fortune to protect.

  With William, she had thought she could have the same happiness. But she would now have to settle for security—if she was lucky enough to have that.