Page 72

Seventeen

The next afternoon, Viscount Bannaster returned with an armed troop of guards. Word spread before he was even in the great hall, and Elizabeth found herself instinctively looking for John, but he was not in the castle. She ran to the double doors in time to look down upon the inner ward, and the chaos of Bannaster’s arrival. Dogs barked and ran about the horses, people darted away from the pawing hooves of the ill-controlled animals, and Lord Bannaster rode in the center of it all.

Looking too well pleased with himself, Elizabeth thought. Nausea swirled through her stomach. She looked about anxiously for John, and finally saw him limping toward the castle from the tiltyard, Philip right behind him. Oh heavens, was she already starting to depend on his presence? She looked up at the tower and wondered if Anne was watching, too.

Was it already too late? Elizabeth had come up with no method to free herself that would not hurt other people. So little time had passed since Bannaster had left for London; King Henry must have needed little persuasion. What if the king had skipped guardianship and settled on marriage as an end to the problems of Elizabeth and her dowry?

Bannaster swung his leg over the side of his horse and jumped from the saddle. His fur-lined cloak swirled about him, and he tossed it back over his shoulders. He left his soldiers to deal with the horses, and came up the steps to the great hall two at a time. Elizabeth stumbled back, and to her relief he didn’t even notice her as he swept by. She was only a lady’s maid he’d met once, after all.

“Bring me an ale!” he called. “Travel parches my throat.”

A dozen or more knights followed behind him, laughing too loudly, pushing each other like boys, and looking about as if for prey.

For women.

And Elizabeth felt very vulnerable against the wall. Just then, John came through the door, and his big body was between her and the rest of the hall.

“Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice.

She nodded, absurdly grateful for him, though she knew he could do nothing should Bannaster’s men decide to amuse themselves at her expense.

“So this is the man who wants to take what is mine?” he said near her ear.

That annoyed her, and she flashed him an angry look. “It is all still mine,” she answered.

He rolled his eyes. “Has he revealed anything?”

“Nay, though does he not seem far too pleased with himself?”

John drew her hand into the warmth of his elbow, and turned to watch the viscount again. She found herself clutching John tightly.

“He is exhilarated,” John said, “but he hardly seems like a man who’d show uncertainty. And he could not have stayed in London more than one night, to arrive back here so soon.”

“I thought we would have more time,” she whispered.

She was startled at her own use of the word “we,” and tried to tell herself that she was including Anne. John glanced down at her, but didn’t remark on it.

“Patience,” he murmured.

She was reminded of that same word written on the note in the basket.

John continued, “I cannot believe that the king could break a betrothal contract so easily.”

“Maybe he simply named Bannaster my guardian.”

“Then let us find out.”

Though everyone had just finished the midday meal, Bannaster and his men were starving. Servants swarmed out of the kitchens with some initial offerings of bread and cheese, while poor Adalia must have been working frantically to reheat what was left of the meal.

Milburn greeted his lord civilly, and then sat at his right hand to relay his own report. John and Elizabeth walked casually around the perimeter of the room, hoping to get close enough to overhear them.

Instead, Milburn looked up, saw them, and called, “Sir John, please attend to us.”

When Elizabeth released John, Milburn motioned her toward the kitchens. “Bring more food, Anne.”

As she walked away, she looked back over her shoulder as John was introduced to Bannaster. When she returned carrying a tray of salad bowls to the high table, Milburn was explaining about the illness of Hillesley’s bailiff, and John’s ability to take over quickly.

And Bannaster was looking distracted, as he broke off a piece of bread and slathered it with butter. When she set his salad down, he looked up and paused. The recognition in his eyes chilled her.