Thrill Of The Knight

by Julia Latham

  “Not everyone,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully, thinking of Sir John. But surely the man was too injured to lower baskets from the top of a tall tower. And why would he, when he knew that Elizabeth was bringing food at every meal?

  “Bannaster’s soldiers want to give me food?” Anne said in disbelief. Then she studied Elizabeth more closely. “You think it might be the bailiff and his clerk. Why would he—unless you’ve been telling him, a stranger, about our troubles? And why ever would you be doing that?”

  “Because he…wants to help,” Elizabeth said, wincing. “But it could not have been him. He is too injured.”

  “Wants to help?” Anne said incredulously.

  “I find myself telling him things about our situation, but he is far too intelligent not to figure it all out for himself.”

  “So he’s intelligent, as well as handsome.”

  “I never called him handsome!”

  Anne grinned. “You didn’t have to.”

  “He’s certainly not as handsome as William was. If William were alive—”

  “If William were alive, you’d be married to him by now.”

  Elizabeth sighed, feeling sadness creep over her again, making everything seem futile.

  “Forgive me,” Anne said, sitting down beside her on the bench and putting her arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders.

  “Nay, there is nothing to forgive. I have been full of self-pity of late.”

  “I would think if anyone deserved to feel that way, it should be you.”

  “It’s difficult to be down below, to see everyone…going on with their duties, with their lives, without me.”

  “You’re right there with them!”

  “I’m something they have to avoid, so that they don’t accidentally reveal my identity. Milburn and Adalia are running the castle adequately now. I think I make things harder on the servants. Perhaps it would be easier if I just—”

  “Accepted your fate? Married a man who has stolen you, who wants you for your wealth, for this castle and a title, so that he can control your people, and subvert what your father intended?”

  Elizabeth gave a small smile. “You have a very persuasive way of making me forget about pitying myself.”

  “Good.”

  “Let me make you feel better. I warned the guards that you had been without your bath for several days, and that I would need the help of servants to carry hot water up to you. I’ll try for tonight.”

  “How thoughtful of you. Have you been able to bathe?”

  “Once in these past two nights, in Adalia’s chamber off the kitchen. It was a hurried affair.”

  “You must miss your bedchamber,” Anne said, looking about the luxurious surroundings with guilt.

  “Nay, I am grateful you are accepting the solitude for me. Let us write this letter and hope we can end your imprisonment.” Elizabeth pulled out a sheet of parchment and her quill pen.

  It didn’t take long; she’d been thinking of the wording all night. She did not call Bannaster a thief outright, but she made it clear to the king that he was behaving illegally, and that she wished to wait for her betrothed.

  As the ink was drying, Elizabeth said, “I sent several of the older stable boys out into the forest yesterday to look for my knights and soldiers. They returned this morning with no news. It is as if they vanished.”

  Anne paled. “You don’t think—”

  “Nay, even Bannaster would not kill an entire army of a hundred men without suffering the king’s wrath. I shall wait a few more days and send someone else. They could just have gone farther away.” Now that the ink was dry, she rolled the parchment carefully, and then tucked it into her bodice, just above her girdle. “I must leave. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  “Do be careful, Elizabeth,” Anne said, following her down to the solar.

  “You be careful, my lady. Remember to find out who sent you the basket.”

  “If they even send another.”

  Elizabeth took the tray and gave a nod as Anne shut the door behind her. She passed the soldiers without uttering a word, and after turning a corner, left the tray beneath a set of stairs, then hurried toward her father’s solar. She listened outside the door for several long minutes, and after hearing nothing, she slipped inside.

  Only one shutter was open to let in light, but she didn’t need much. She knew the coffer that housed her father’s personal items; she’d had to use the ring more than once since her father’s death to seal her official correspondence to the king. But she wouldn’t remain here to heat the wax. She would return to Adalia’s chamber and—

  The latch on the door lifted so suddenly that Elizabeth was caught standing in the center of the room as the door was thrown wide.

  Milburn came up short when he saw her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was sent to clean, master.” She was grateful when the lie came to her.

  “I see no rags or pail. What do you have in your hand?”

  Her heart sank. There was no point forcing him to wrestle the items from her; he would win. She silently showed the wax. He came forward, frowning, then grabbed her other hand, which was fisted.

  “Open it.”

  She reluctantly displayed the ring. His fingers tightened on her wrist until she gasped with the pain. Why did he not name her a thief and call the guards? Scenarios flashed through her mind of imprisonment, and her people trying to rescue her. Deaths all attributed to her—

  Instead, Milburn took both the ring and the wax and stared at them. “No one who wants to steal the priceless ring of an earl also steals wax.”

  As he studied her face, he let go of her arm, and Elizabeth rubbed her bruised wrist.

  “You wanted to seal something with the proof of the earl’s ring.”

  “Nay, Master Milburn. My lady was worried that the ring would be stolen. She wanted it safe.”

  “Show me what you have concealed.”

  He spoke so impassively, without anger or inflection, that Elizabeth knew he would do whatever was necessary.

  “I have nothing, master.”

  “Your bodice is loose. What do you have hidden there?”

  She flushed with anger and humiliation, and then removed the missive, knowing he would have stripped her until he found it.

  Milburn unrolled it and read without expression. When he looked back up at her, he said, “Your mistress is a fool. All this has done is earn her a day without food. It has earned you—”

  There was a knock on the door, and he gave it an impatient glance. “Who is it?”

  The door opened, and in limped Sir John, leaning heavily on his crutch. He came up short when he saw Elizabeth. She was grateful for the interruption, glad that there would be a witness to her whereabouts. Milburn could so easily put her somewhere to keep her out of the way.

  Sir John nodded. “Forgive me for the intrusion, Master Milburn. You had told me to come discuss a business opportunity with you.”

  “I also told you to come in the afternoon.”

  Sir John shrugged his shoulders. “I was walking by and thought I’d see if you were here.”

  “Aye, you have been walking much today,” Milburn said musingly.

  Elizabeth looked between the men, trying not to show her interest. She had known Milburn had some sort of plan for Sir John. She hoped they would discuss it and forget about her.

  But Milburn gave her a speculative glance. “Sir John, you have come at an opportune moment. I was going to ask your help with a nearby manor whose bailiff has become ill.”

  Elizabeth was bursting with the need to ask who the ill man was, but she remained silent. She had no idea why Milburn needed to discuss this now, when she waited anxiously for her own punishment.

  “I cannot offer a permanent position at the moment, but would you consider supervising this manor on a temporary basis?”

  Sir John smiled. “Master Milburn, I would be happy to accept. Even if only temporarily, it will give me a chance to
replace some of the earnings that were stolen from me.”

  “Good. We will discuss your payment at another time. You will need an assistant.”

  “Philip Sutterly—”

  “Will be busy. I am assigning him to be the clerk to the captain of the guard. He needs someone to keep the account book as he supplies his troop. The captain informs me that your clerk has become familiar to the soldiers and should work well with them. And to you,” Milburn said, allowing a trace of sarcasm to enter his voice, “I offer the assistance of the maid Anne.”

  Elizabeth stared at Sir John in confusion. Her punishment was to act as a clerk?

  Nay, it was to keep her from the tower as much as possible. It was an effective punishment.

  “Master Milburn,” she began, “my lady needs—”

  “Your lady’s needs will be met. But she does not need someone who will help her in rebellion.”

  “But I didn’t—I don’t even know what the missive says!”

  “I know you are not to blame, girl,” Milburn said gruffly. “Your mistress has to learn to accept the consequences of her actions. Her punishment is greater, do you not think?”

  “Might I tell her what has happened?”

  “Nay, I think we shall let her wonder for today. Sir John, the manor is at Hillesley, a small village several miles from here.”

  As Milburn told Sir John what he’d been able to glean from the servants, Elizabeth tried to remember who the bailiff of that particular property was. And then it came to her—Master Wilden. He was an older man, whose wife had died and whose children were grown and married. He used to give Elizabeth apples from his orchard whenever she visited with her father.

  “I just need an accounting of what is going on at Hillesley,” Milburn was saying.

  “Master Milburn,” Elizabeth interrupted, “do you know if the bailiff will live?”

  “The healer has been to see him, and he will be unable to work,” Milburn said shortly. “That is all I needed to know.”

  “Thank you for the opportunity,” Sir John said. “I will let you know what I discover.” He opened the door. “Anne?”

  She hesitated. Milburn would hide her father’s ring in a new place, and she might never see it again. Had Bannaster been looking for it? Had she just made things easier for him?

  Milburn arched a brow at her, his lips thinning. There was nothing she could do. She curtsied, preceded Sir John out of the chamber, and turned toward the tower with determination.

  “Anne,” Sir John said from behind.

  She ignored him and started to walk.

  To her surprise, he caught her arm.

  “Let me go,” she said angrily, trying to pull away. “He hasn’t told the guards yet. They’ll let me up to see my mistress. I can explain—”

  His arm slipped around her waist from behind and she sucked in her breath in shock as he pulled her against him.

  Against her ear, he murmured, “Cease this foolishness. You will only bring more trouble down on yourself and your mistress.”

  “But he’s not going to allow me to feed her!”

  “For how long?”

  “Today.”

  “Will she starve?”

  Reluctantly, she breathed, “Nay.”

  “Then leave it be. Your mistress will understand.”

  “She’ll be frightened and worried,” Elizabeth whispered, tears stinging her eyes.

  He squeezed her waist gently and released her. She was left with the impression of warmth and now solitary cold. She hugged herself.

  “Mayhap, but she would rather you, her dear friend, be safe.”

  She turned around and looked up at him. “How do you know she considers me her friend?”

  “Because of the way you speak of her. You were raised together. How could I not tell?”

  He looked at her with so much sympathy that she wanted to cry. She wanted to break down and tell him everything, to lean on him for comfort and assistance.

  And this shocked her, because she knew nothing about him. She stiffened and gave him a suspicious glare. “And why did you happen to enter the solar at just that moment?”

  He grinned. “I was following you.”

  “Following me?” She took a step back.

  “I was practicing with my crutch, getting to know the layout of the castle. You walked by a corridor I was in and set down your tray in a corner, instead of taking it to the kitchens.” He shrugged. “I was curious.”

  “And what else did your curiosity prompt you to do?” she asked with sarcasm.

  “I listened at the door and overheard why you’re being punished. Your loyalty to your mistress is commendable, but—”

  “Your opinion does not interest me.” She whirled around and started to march away.

  She could hear him following, his heavy step alternating with the sound of his crutch hitting the wooden floor. He kept up very easily.

  “You’ll become used to how freely I offer my opinion,” he said. “We’ll be spending much time together.”

  She gritted her teeth and said nothing.

  “It will not be a terrible punishment, I assure you. I am not an evil master.”

  Whirling to face him, she said, “You are not my master. And this is not a punishment for me so much as it is for Lady Elizabeth. They want her so lonely and desperate that she’ll accept anything, not simply the guardianship proposed, but even marriage with that—that—”

  “I would keep your voice down, now that the viscount is temporarily in control of Alderley.”

  She let out a heavy sigh and folded her arms across her chest.

  “It is not marriage the viscount says he wants?” Sir John asked, his head tilted.

  “There is a binding betrothal contract with the Russell heir. For now, the viscount is petitioning for guardianship, but my lady sees his method for what it is: just the first step. Once he has guardianship, he has legal control of my lady and her assets. If Lord Russell does not return soon, Bannaster will use his absence as proof of his death, as proof that the instability that King Henry hates still exists in this part of England. He’ll bribe an archbishop and—”

  “The betrothal will be overturned,” Sir John said softly.

  He gave her a measuring look, and she felt confused. He took a breath, opened his mouth, and then shook his head.

  “I wish I could help your mistress solve all of these problems,” he said with a sigh.

  “One man alone cannot.”

  “And your mistress thought a missive would help?”

  “It would at least alert the king to the danger,” Elizabeth said with determination.

  “Instead she has alerted Milburn that she is not as meek as he had hoped.”

  With a groan, she stalked away from him.

  “Be ready to leave after the midday meal,” Sir John called. “I need to see Hillesley.”

  Elizabeth was furious with herself—her own stupidity had led to her banishment from the castle a good part of each day. What if someone tried to get into the tower while she was gone?

  She could hardly delude herself that her presence was any protection against such an occurrence. Nay, what she was really worried about was being alone with Sir John. He was far too interested in her, and she in him. She would use him if she had to, but already she felt her control of the situation slipping away. Every time he touched her, she thought about him, not her mission to save herself and her people. Now she was going to be spending even more time in his company. She had to prove stronger than the lure of a man treating her simply as a woman. She was not destined for that sort of life. The legacy her father had begun and strengthened now rested with her; she would not cheapen it by pretending she could be a normal woman.

  Even if such feelings made her understand for the first time what it felt like to be desired for herself.

  Chapter 8

  Elizabeth spent the rest of the morning feeling restless and useless. She’d meant to take Anne’s soiled garm
ents to the laundry maids, but had forgotten to bring them down in her excitement over the letter. Elizabeth wasn’t used to having nothing to do. Finally Adalia had allowed her to chop carrots.

  When Elizabeth entered the great hall for the midday meal, she was greeted with fearful, wide-eyed looks from several valets and maidservants. She came to a stop, frightened and confused—until she saw one of her suitors, Sir Charles. He was already seated at the high table next to Milburn. Elizabeth whirled about and tried to retreat to the kitchens.

  “Anne, come sit beside me,” Sir John called from one of the far tables. “We have much to discuss.”

  Elizabeth pretended to have a coughing fit as she walked toward the far side of the hall, keeping her head lowered and turned away. Thank God for the wimple. She was about to seat herself across from Sir John, but he slid down the bench and gestured for her to come nearer. Since she couldn’t call any more attention to herself, she sat down beside him, keeping as close to the edge as possible. She knew that her rational mind turned to mush when he touched her.

  He leaned nearer. “Coming under Bannaster’s influence solved one problem for your mistress.”

  “What is that?” She kept her gaze fixed on her empty plate, trying to pretend that she did not feel the brush of his sleeve against hers.

  “That is one of Lady Elizabeth’s suitors, is it not?”

  “Aye. He is Sir Charles, son of Lord Selby.”

  “I overheard Milburn telling him in no uncertain terms that Bannaster will be named her guardian soon, and not to return until then.”

  “Though my lady will be glad to know that there is one less man fighting over her, she is still locked away, starving.”

  “Is she truly starving?” he asked with concern. “She has no food or drink in the tower?”

  She hesitated, remembering the basket. “I guess she has enough to get by today.”

  “Then I guess you had better not get into any more trouble, eh?” he asked, smiling.

  She didn’t smile back.

  “I was attempting a jest,” he said, elbowing her.

  “I guess it wasn’t funny,” she told him.