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Lord Bannaster nodded gravely. “Indeed. And I feel responsible. So I am going to offer you the services of my own steward, Master Arthur Milburn.”

He nodded toward the other man, who was tall and lean, dressed in somber colors and wearing an impassive expression. Master Milburn gave a clipped bow.

Elizabeth knew a rising fear. Nothing was going as expected, and her old nightmares about being hunted down dark corridors came back to life. The castle was out of her control—for the time being. It was even more imperative that she discover what was going on down below, see how truly vulnerable they were.

“My lady,” Lord Bannaster continued, “I fear even my own soldiers would be tempted to take for themselves the riches that come with marrying you. So I have directed that two of them guard your tower at all times—one of my men, and one of yours.”

“Am I forbidden visitors?” Anne asked, for the first time allowing anger in her voice. “Even my priest? How can I not attend mass every day?”

“When I return from London, we shall see how secure your situation is,” he said, shrugging apologetically. “Read your Bible, Lady Elizabeth. A woman’s place is well explained.”

Elizabeth flinched.

“Until then, trust Milburn to see to your affairs—and to your safety. A good day to you, my lady.” He bowed low. “Until I see you again.”

He swept from the room. With another cool look, Milburn followed him and shut the door.

Elizabeth ran to the door and put her ear to it. She could hear nothing but footsteps fading away, and then several male voices speaking from down below, presumably the guards Bannaster had mentioned.

She turned to face Anne grimly. “He had this well planned out. He wants me locked away—and he killed poor Royden, my loyal steward, to ensure that no one would be brave enough to stop him.” Though she was livid with anger, tears finally coursed down her face at such a senseless death.

Anne threw her arms around Elizabeth, and they cried together.

Finally Elizabeth backed away and wiped her face. “We have no time for mourning. There are too many people to protect. I will go see the situation in the great hall.”

“But the servants will recognize you! If Lord Bannaster discovers you’ve deceived him⁠—”

“I vow he won’t. I shall go to the kitchens first and have the cook and her servants spread the news before I enter the great hall. Our people are smart and proud—they won’t want such a man deciding our fate.”

“And then what?” Anne whispered.

“And then I’ll have to think of a plan. I refuse to believe that my betrothed is dead. He’s out there somewhere.”

Two

John, Baron Russell, sat angrily on a bench in a decrepit tavern within a day’s journey of Castle Alderley, the home of Lady Elizabeth Hutton, the woman he’d only recently discovered was his betrothed. The sounds of drunken men laughing and shouting assailed his ears; the hearth fire sputtered, but he paid attention to none of it, so caught up was he in figuring out a way to solve his problems.

He’d spent these many years pursuing adventure, the youngest son of three, forced to make his own way in the world. He’d gone to Europe at sixteen to be squire to his cousin, growing from a needy boy lost in his eldest brother’s shadow, to a man who knew he could rely on himself. He’d been happy in Europe, where his skills on the battlefield had won him the only acclaim he’d thought he would ever need. Tournaments and mercenary work had filled his days, and he’d been proud to support himself, asking for nothing from his family, who’d certainly not expected him to do so well. But the deaths of his older two brothers had made him the baron and given him a noble bride.

He took a sip of weak ale, gripping the handle hard. They were all dead now: his parents, his middle brother, Robert, who’d hoped to be a scholar, and his eldest brother, William, who’d been the epitome of knighthood. Handsome, poetic, and charming, William had won the admiration of dozens of maidens with his flirting ways, even though he’d been promised to Lady Elizabeth. He’d been the measurement that John, overweight and awkward as a child, had always been held to and found lacking by his father.

But now marriage was John’s family duty. He’d returned from Normandy several days before, expecting to find Rame Castle ready to accept his leadership. But Rame Castle, the pride of his father, John’s new legacy, had been neglected, its fields fallow, most of its soldiers and many tenants long gone. His elder brother had been content to enjoy his life in London, anticipating the marriage that would make him rich, and misusing his own resources.

“I still can’t believe what William did to our family name,” John muttered into his tankard.

On his right, Sir Philip Clifford, his fellow knight and man-at-arms, turned from contemplating his own ale. “Your brother neglected his birthright. ’Tis not a reflection on you.”

“But he is my family, and now I am responsible,” John said, slamming down his tankard. Ale sloshed onto his hand. He lowered his voice. “My own brother sucked the life from his estate, leaving me to reclaim it as I can. The steward told everyone that I needed money to live in Europe, that William had to support me.” The words choked in his throat.

“Don’t let yourself believe that William initiated such a lie, John. The steward was a desperate man who did not want to blame perhaps his own mismanagement, as well as his own lord for the castle’s failing.”

John wanted to believe that. Would he always wonder? “Regardless, the rest of the country—even King Henry’s court—must believe that I am as incapable as my brother.” He drained his tankard. “Every coin I have must go to resurrecting Rame Castle.”

“You have to eat. After all,” Philip added, beginning to smile, “you must keep yourself presentable for your betrothed. Is she lovely?”

“I only received her letter; I did not see a portrait of her face. It has been over ten years since last we met, and she was a child then. She could refuse to marry me. After all, she was to marry my brother, a man who everyone thought fit the ideals of a knight.”

“Your parents arranged this marriage long ago, and she won’t dishonor them,” Philip said firmly. “The king wanted your two families joined when he agreed to give Lady Elizabeth in marriage to the Russell heir. You bring to her a castle that defends the coast of Cornwall. And you bring yourself, a great knight of England, the next Earl of Alderley, as the king wished. What woman wouldn’t swoon at your feet? But I ask again, is she lovely?”