by Julia Latham
“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.
“Are you not Lady Elizabeth’s maid?” he asked.
“Aye, my lord.”
“How is her ladyship?”
“She is well.”
“Not crying to be let out?”
“Nay, my lord.”
He sighed. “She is a brave woman. Perhaps she will be glad to see me.”
Elizabeth wished she could snort her response to that.
“Has she given her situation thought? After all, she was silly enough to think she could run this estate by herself.”
Without thinking, she responded, “She did so for six months, my lord.”
Milburn broke his usual impassive expression to gape at her.
But Bannaster only laughed. “Aye, mayhap she did. Or mayhap her people helped more than she knew.”
Elizabeth curtsied and moved on to the next hungry man before she could get herself in real trouble.
John was not invited to eat with the viscount. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him retreat to the hearth and prop his leg up as if it pained him.
Her outspokenness had earned her the interest of Bannaster. While he ate, he watched her occasionally, and she did not like the interest in his gaze. He drank too much throughout the meal, and as the day wore on, he continued to drink. Never once did he mention his audience with the king. He was far too jovial at supper, and tried to entertain the occupants of the hall with the great deeds of the noblemen at court.
They all sounded like pompous fools to Elizabeth. She hid her thoughts, even as she was getting better at hiding herself from the viscount’s gaze. She was trying not to get her hopes up that he stayed away from the tower because he hadn’t been successful in his quest.
But early in the evening, as the torches were being lit and the supper dishes were removed, Bannaster slammed his tankard down and rose to his feet. He swayed precariously, caught his balance, and announced to the hall, “Now I go to see your mistress.”
After exchanging glances with John, Elizabeth ran ahead to reach the tower before Bannaster did.
The two soldiers frowned at her. “You do not bring Lady Elizabeth a meal?” said Bannaster’s man.
She had forgotten. And it was too late to turn back now, for she could hear Bannaster’s loud, off-key whistle as he approached.
“Tonight I thought to ask her preference,” she said. “Might I be let up?”
But the soldier, glancing over her head, came to attention, and Alderley’s soldier did as well, though with obvious reluctance.
It was too late for Elizabeth to warn Anne. She turned to face Bannaster, but he merely looked over her head at the soldiers.
“Has anyone dared to defy the guards I placed here while I was gone?” Bannaster asked.
“Nay, milord,” said his soldier.
“’Tis good. I shall go up to speak with her.”
“My lord,” Elizabeth said, drawing his gaze, “I need to come with you.”
“Nay, what is between my lady and me is private.” He gave her a bleary grin.
“But my lord, you cannot see her alone. How will it look to her people—to your people?” she added for his benefit.
“But I care not who—”
As Bannaster waved an arm to encompass the whole castle, he stopped talking when he saw that half a dozen people were nearby, some passing by in the corridor, or like John, coming from the great hall in curiosity.
Bannaster sighed. “Very well, maidservant. What is your name again?”
“Anne, my lord.”
“Then you come with me, Anne, only you.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
She went through the door ahead of him, but he was right behind. It made her nervous to walk up the stairs that hugged the wall of the tower. She didn’t like him behind her, staring at her lower body. She felt like she could hear his breathing.
At the door to the solar, she knocked and called, “My lady? ’Tis I, Anne, and Lord Bannaster.”
For a moment she could hear nothing inside.
She gasped when Bannaster put a hand on her hip and said, “Move aside, and I’ll knock louder.”
But the door suddenly opened, and warm light spilled down the stairs. Anne stood there, looking subdued and regal in a gown of blue silk. “Good evening, Lord Bannaster,” she said softly, as she stepped back to allow them entrance.
Elizabeth entered first and although she probably should have taken her place behind Anne, instead she stood at her side, facing the viscount.
As if the drunken walk up the stairs had winded him, he sank down sloppily onto a stool and smiled. “You look the same, Lady Elizabeth, beautiful and untouchable.”
“I watched you arrive, my lord,” Anne said. “You looked pleased with yourself.”
Elizabeth thought confinement had made Anne increasingly brave.
Bannaster grinned. “So you were anxious for my reappearance?”
“Anxious? Nay, my lord. But what else do I have to do but look out the window?”
She smiled as she said it, but she made her point. Yet Bannaster was just drunk enough that all he did was laugh.
“You are so refreshing, Lady Elizabeth. I will never grow bored with you.”
Anne inhaled. “Let us be direct, my lord. Has the king granted you guardianship over me?”
Elizabeth held her breath.
Bannaster leaned his head back against the wall, and suddenly his eyes looked hooded. “He is contemplating his decision and will advise me of it.”
Elizabeth stared at the floor, because she was afraid her expression would betray her relief.
“You don’t have to look so happy,” he said sourly.
She looked up in time to see Anne’s smile fade.
“Can you blame me?” Anne asked softly. “My betrothed will come for me soon, and I don’t wish your interference.”
“Yet the king thought my wish to protect you was a good one. I feel it is only a matter of time before I win the ability to guide your future.”
He looked down Anne’s body in a way that made Elizabeth step closer to her. Even the two of them together could not stop a man of his size from doing as he wished.
“In fact,” Bannaster continued, rising unsteadily to his feet, “if I take you now, the king would not refuse my right to wed you.”
His true intentions were finally in the open, but Elizabeth never thought he’d be fool enough to resort to rape to get what he wanted.
Anne backed up a step. “Nay, sir, you cannot force yourself upon me.”
“It will not be force, my girl. I am quite persuasive.”
Elizabeth put herself between her dearest friend and Bannaster. She would allow no harm to come to Anne, even if it meant confessing her identity. Bannaster impatiently grabbed Elizabeth’s arm, but before he could push her aside, Anne started screaming. She was impressively loud, and full of enough terror to bring anyone within hearing distance running.
“Shh!” Bannaster said, thrusting Elizabeth aside. “I wasn’t going to hurt you, girl!”
Elizabeth tripped and fell to the floor.
“A kiss is all I ask!” he shouted.
Anne continued screaming.
“One kiss and you’ll see that I can make the best husband!”
Even as Elizabeth stood up, she could hear the sound of pounding feet coming up the stairs. The door burst open and the two soldiers spilled inside. Anne started sobbing, Elizabeth threw her arms around her, and Bannaster swayed and put a hand on his soldier’s chest.
“A misunderstanding,” Bannaster said. “I was just leaving.”
Anne calmed down until her sobs were hiccups. Elizabeth continued to pat her back as Bannaster backed down from whatever he’d planned. She could not be satisfied, though, because he could try again another time. And who could stop him from what he truly wanted to do?
When Bannaster and the soldiers had gone, Elizabeth and Anne hugged each other.
Elizabeth gave her a handkerchief to dry her tears. “You know I would never have let him touch you. This is growing too dangerous. Let me take back my life.”
“Nay! I knew you were going to say that. That’s why I was crying, trying to make him leave before you did something foolish!”
Elizabeth sighed. “You did a fine job scaring him off.”
Anne shook her head, her expression worried. “For now, Elizabeth, only for now. His meeting with the king did not go at all as he’d planned. He seems a bit desperate.”
“Mayhap it was only the drink in him talking. If he’d have wanted to take you, he could have tried it a sennight ago. I promise I will have more of our people keep watch on him and the tower. We’ll make sure he never has a chance to sneak up here.”
Anne nodded, but she looked unconvinced. How vulnerable she must feel! Elizabeth felt terribly guilty, but she knew Anne would reject the offer to switch places.
“Let me bring you up a supper tray,” Elizabeth said. “Food always makes you feel better.”
Anne gave a shaky smile. “You make me sound like a glutton.”
“Nonsense. But surely you’re hungry. I’ll be right back.”
Elizabeth left the solar, closed the door behind her, and began to hurry down the stairs. She’d only taken a few when something rose out of the shadows in front of her. She gasped and fell back against the wall, catching herself.
Lord Bannaster smiled at her, the torchlight gleaming across his teeth.
Oh God, what had he heard? If he’d listened at the door, he knew who she was.
“Anne, you’re a beautiful girl,” he said.
She told herself to relax, that he didn’t know the truth, but something in his gaze made her fear rise instead.
“And I want company tonight,” he continued pleasantly.
He sounded like they were going to spend the evening playing Tables in the great hall, but she knew that wasn’t what he meant. Without a word, she turned and tried to run back up the stairs, but he caught her arm, and she fell onto her knees on the cold stone.
“There, there, you’ll hurt yourself,” he said. “You must be careful. It’s a nasty fall down.”
There was no railing. The tower stairs were made for hand-to-hand combat, where one knight could pitch the other over the edge.
Bannaster helped her up. “Come, let me show you the bedchamber I use here. It was the earl’s, and ’tis magnificent.”
The thought of him dragging her to her parents’ bed made her nauseous. But they were in too precarious a position to struggle. He turned her about, put his arm around her and started walking her down the stairs.
“This is far too slow,” he said, laughing quietly to himself.
She cried out as he picked her up by the waist like a sack of grain. She dangled against his side as he began to take the stairs faster and faster. She hung out over the edge, with the darkness and the torches whirling around her. She couldn’t scream or cry, couldn’t breathe from fear until they were closer to the ground.
He stumbled when they reached level ground, and Elizabeth fell and rolled away from him. Her breath came in gasps; she realized her face was wet with tears she didn’t remember shedding. She stared up at him, not concealing her fury and her fear.
Bannaster frowned as he looked down at her. “I was very careful not to drop you. Why are you on the ground? Come, let’s get up, girl, so we don’t frighten the soldiers.”
He reached for her, and she had no choice but to take his hand and allow herself to be pulled up. When he opened the door at the base of the tower, she ducked past him, between the soldiers, and started to run.
“What fun!” he called. “A chase!”
He might have been drunk, but he was fast. She couldn’t quite get away from him. Though she led him through mazelike corridors, she never lost him. The occasional servant pressed himself against the wall as she flew past, but she didn’t stop. But why didn’t he pass out?
Whenever he got close, he laughed like it was a childhood game; to her it was a childhood nightmare come back to life. When she was a girl, before her betrothal, there had always been men visiting Alderley, pushing themselves or their young sons on her, making her feel hunted. She had stopped sleeping from the nightmares; her appetite had faded, until finally her parents had taken her away—
To John’s family castle, the first place she remembered feeling at peace. The betrothal had protected her, made her feel safe again, but all of that was gone. Would she ever in her life be able to stop running?
The need for John was like a sudden, vivid ache in her chest, but she did not lead the viscount to him. John would protect her even if it got him imprisoned or killed.
And she didn’t want him dead.
At last her lungs could no longer bear the strain. She couldn’t stop alone in a corridor, knowing what would happen. She could only go to the great hall in hopes that Bannaster could be distracted.
She ran beneath an arched doorway and to the hearth in the great hall. Soldiers were dancing with maidservants to the music of a pipe and lute. Milburn was playing Tables, moving his pieces on the board; he looked up and frowned at her. She could only imagine what she looked like. Her face was hot with perspiration, and she wished she could pull the wimple from her hair and toss it into the fire.
Though her breathing was unsteady, she tried to walk instead of run across the room, but the muscles in her legs were shaky. John was there; he had been seated beside Philip on a bench, but he had risen to his feet at the sight of her. His brows drew together ominously, and his hand went to the dagger at his waist.
Nay, she had not meant to involve him—what had she been thinking? She shook her head frantically at him, and was grateful when Philip grabbed his arm from behind.
“Anne!” Bannaster shouted her name. “You’ve had your fun.”
He was right behind her. He whirled her about, pulled her to him, and kissed her. Though the soldiers cheered, even Elizabeth heard the unnatural silence that descended on the rest of the great hall.
The viscount lifted his head and looked about, his drunken smile uncertain. “Who stopped the music? I wanted to dance with Anne.”
“Fire
!” a voice shrieked.
Bannaster let go of her immediately, turning about, and Elizabeth did the same. She saw no evidence of fire—but Adalia, the one who had shouted, was motioning frantically to the kitchens.
Everywhere people started running—many of the soldiers fled for the great double doors to the outside, but her own people, bless them, went running for buckets. Bannaster, probably fearful that his hoped-for home would not be ruined, followed everyone toward the kitchens.
Elizabeth would have also, but someone caught her from behind. She cried out instinctively.
“’Tis me!” John said.
With a shudder, she threw her arms around him. He picked her right up off the floor and held her.
“Did he hurt you?” John said against her ear.
“Nay, I am just frightened, and so weary from leading him about the castle. Even drunk, he can run!”
John put her down, and she awkwardly stepped away from him. “Is there truly a fire?” she asked, suddenly shy about the way she’d reacted to him. Surely she was so frightened that anyone but Bannaster would have served the same purpose.
“I doubt it,” he said. “But we’ll go see.”
There were shouts coming from the kitchen, and only the smallest wisp of smoke. Bannaster stood in the doorway, looking at the confusion within, and just before Elizabeth and John got there, a bucket of water drenched him.
He stumbled backward looking down at his wilted silks and brocades.
John pulled Elizabeth back against him, his arm about her waist, and she didn’t protest. All around them her people gathered in a close group, maidservants, valets, and grooms, leaving the center of the gathering to Bannaster, who sputtered as water dripped down his face.
“My garments are ruined,” he said, wringing out the skirt of his doublet. “Anne, I’ll need you to—”
He broke off as he saw the people around him. No one smiled or offered to help. Bannaster’s gaze focused on her, and he couldn’t miss John’s arm about her waist, and the protective way he held her.
“My lord,” said a young man, who had pushed his way through the group and now stared about with uncertainty. “I unpacked your coffers in the master suite. Shall I help you change?”
