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Elizabeth swallowed heavily, but other than that, did not betray herself. Of course a lowly maid would be asked such a thing. Perhaps she could yet escape, if they were away from Milburn’s brooding watchfulness. “Might I find an empty chamber, so that you could work in privacy?”

Rachel nodded. “’Tis kind of ye, Anne.”

Sir John smiled tightly. “I agree. I did not plan to reveal all to the entire great hall.”

With his eyes closed, Philip said, “Speak for yourself.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened with amazement, but Sir John only chuckled.

“Forgive my clerk his impertinence,” Sir John said. “We grew up together and sometimes he forgets to show respect to the one with the greater education and standing.”

Philip opened one eye, muttered, “Hmph,” and then closed it again.

After consulting the chamberlain—and being quite subservient to this man who usually consulted her—Elizabeth saw to the removal of the patients to an empty bedchamber. A groom from the great hall accompanied them and remained by the door in case the strangers proved unfriendly. Elizabeth fetched lard for Rachel to mix with her herbs, kept herself busy at Rachel’s direction, and tried not to stare when the removal of clothing began. Elizabeth, sheltered and protected as a great heiress, had seen little of the manly form, and now found herself far too curious.

Rachel was quite thoughtful, only moving aside one piece of clothing at a time. Elizabeth saw much purple mottling of bruises, but of course she could not help but see the impressive muscle beneath. Though he was a bailiff by trade, Sir John was also a knight, a man at ease with both strength and violence. He must have fought back, as evidenced by the bruises and raw patches on his knuckles.

Rachel was gentle as she rubbed her ointment of lard and agrimony into each injury. There was little blood, except for a cut to Sir John’s lip and a scrape along Philip’s arm, and the wounds of defense on their hands.

Now that her curiosity was satisfied, Elizabeth felt a pressing need to go to Anne, to confide their situation. But she could not abandon Rachel, could not risk behaving improperly for a maidservant.

Yet Sir John continued to stare at her, and she found his interest far too distracting.

Four

John lay back on the bed as each of his bruises was probed, then soothed with ointment. He was glad to be away from the great hall, where so many soldiers had gathered. It had taken all of his will to keep his hand from his sword hilt, as if he might have to defend himself among the enemy. He had to keep remembering that he was a wounded bailiff.

He was appreciative of the ministrations of the young healer—except when she came between him and his view of the maidservant, Anne. A heavy wimple covered Anne’s hair and was wrapped about her chin and neck, as if she were an old woman hiding the folds of her neck. But she was not old. Her skin was creamy and looked soft to the touch, without blemishes or pox scars that so many of the women he’d come in contact with had. Her mouth was generous, made for laughter and kisses. She was as fine as any noble lady he had seen from afar, with slim height and regal bearing. As she moved, her curves were occasionally evident beneath the folds of the plain gown. She had the brown eyes of a doe, soft and limpid and so feminine, with their thick lashes that constantly swept downward as if she needed to hide her thoughts.

When he’d first arrived in the great hall of Castle Alderley, the steward Milburn had made no secret of the fact that Anne was Lady Elizabeth’s personal maid, and Milburn had wanted her alone to assist the wounded travelers.

Why? The only obvious answer was to keep her from her other duties—seeing to Lady Elizabeth’s comfort. Or was Lady Elizabeth being punished? Anne was being kept from bringing her the morning meal, after all. Was she being starved?

But no, he could not jump to conclusions. He had to find the facts. Lady Elizabeth had only been imprisoned a few days, and if she were being starved, Anne would be showing more fear. If Bannaster wanted Lady Elizabeth in marriage, he would be foolish to harm her.

From the moment Anne had been called from the kitchens to tend to him, John had watched her. She was the woman closest to his betrothed. Anne had said that Lady Elizabeth was “secluded,” which didn’t necessarily mean a prisoner. If Bannaster had meant to keep her status a secret, he wasn’t going about it very well. Unless, being the King’s cousin, he didn’t care who knew his intent. And that could make him a dangerous man.

While John had been in the great hall waiting for the healer, he had noticed the unease that marked every servant’s face, the hushed way people went about their work. There were no smiles, no laughter. But there was no open fear, which was a good sign for Lady Elizabeth’s well-being.

Anne might be the key, John had realized almost immediately. Was Anne the only one with access to the tower? He would have to discover that as soon as possible.

He winced as Rachel set his leg in a wooden splint and began to wrap strips of cloth about it.

All right, he’d have to hobble around to discover his answers. Ogden and Parker had done a thorough job making Philip and him wounded travelers.

Rachel began to put away her cloths and jars. She glanced at Anne. “I will return on the morrow to see how Sir John and his clerk are doin’. Will ye need me before then?”

A strange thing to ask a maid, but then the whole household had to be feeling uneasy with their mistress “secluded.”

Anne shook her head. “I will be fine. Are the men healthy enough to remain alone?”

“You could ask us,” John said pleasantly.

Anne gave him a worried look.

Rachel smiled. “You are not badly wounded, though it’ll take time to mend. Stay in here and rest for much of the day, lettin’ the servants bring ye what ye need.”

“Might they come to supper in the great hall if they’re feeling well enough?” Anne asked, blushing.