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They led him to one where Philip was gnawing the last meat from a bone. He waved it jauntily.
John put his hands on his hips. “Elizabeth has decided to marry Bannaster.”
Philip tossed the bone into the fire and rose to his feet. “That might mean taking your babe into the enemy’s household.”
John frowned.
Philip put up both hands. “As if I didn’t notice the time you were spending alone with her? I could hardly think you would keep your hands to yourself.”
John turned to Parker and Ogden. “Summon Sir Jasper and his soldiers immediately. The wedding is supposed to take place in the morning.”
“You mean to attack?” Philip asked in disbelief. “Lady Elizabeth doesn’t want—”
Grimly, John said, “For once, she’s not the one in command.”
* * *
Elizabeth knocked on Bannaster’s door—the door to what had been her parents’ suite. It was opened by the man’s squire, who gaped at her, then stepped back so that Bannaster, lounging in a chair near the fire, could see her.
Bannaster gave her a slow grin. “You can tell your mistress that sending you here to plead for her will not work. The wedding will take place in the morning.”
“I am here on my own behalf,” she said simply, trusting in the mystery of her words.
Bannaster cocked his head. Then he nodded at his squire, who stepped out into the corridor, then closed the door once Elizabeth had gone inside. She remained still, not even frightened, feeling calm—and in control. That was all she needed to get through each day.
Bannaster slowly rose to his feet and came toward her. He was not as tall as John, but he was formidable, a man used to power. Instead of stopping before her, he walked about her as if on an inspection.
Before her once again, he took her chin in his fingers and lifted it. She stepped back.
“No touching?” he said, wearing a half-smile. “Is that not what you came here for?”
She removed her wimple and his smile faded as her hair, which she’d brushed to a lustrous sheen, fell down in long curls about her body.
When Bannaster spoke again, his voice was husky. “Seducing me will not stop me from marrying your mistress either.”
“I don’t wish to stop the wedding,” she said. “But you will not be marrying the woman in the tower. You’ll be marrying me.”
He started to laugh, but it faded away in his confusion. “Why would your mistress think I would accept a maidservant in the place of an heiress?”
“Because I am not a maidservant. I am Lady Elizabeth Hutton.”
“Nicely done,” he scoffed.
She went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “I exchanged places with my maidservant so that I could devise a method to thwart your plans. But I could not, so now I surrender to save my people.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Tell your mistress that I will not be tricked into marrying someone else.”
“’Tis no trick, my lord. You have won; you have defeated me. Ask me any questions concerning my parents or the betrothal you are vowing to see nullified.”
“You could have been taught what to say.”
“Ask anyone, far and wide, about my identity. I have struggled every day to keep it from you and from your servants. My sisters even arrived while you were gone, and I had to send them away. Did you not say that your revelation about Lord Russell’s identity came from Rodmarton Castle? And that day you drunkenly tried to force yourself on me—”
“I did not try to—”
“Did you not see how my people rallied to defend me? There was no fire in that kitchen, except the one started by my cook.”
He looked confused and troubled.
