Page 81

He still desired her. He had given her the ultimate pleasure, and not received it himself.

Would another man have been so selfless, especially when she had allowed him to continue pleasuring her?

He climbed into the tub and sank down with a sigh, even though the water must only come to his waist. He was a big man who needed a big tub, but the only one large enough was in the family wing, which her father had had built to order. She would have it sent to John and⁠—

She was behaving like a wife already, she thought in wonder, considering his comfort, his needs.

Had she finally accepted that he was to be her husband?

She continued to watch him bathe, lulled into sleepiness by his slow movements as he used a cloth on his skin.

She told herself that he was her last hope, even as deep inside, a part of her warned that she was losing herself to him.

Nineteen

In the morning, Elizabeth left Anne inspecting another basket that had been lowered to her during the night, more sweets and books, even a flute. Had Anne’s music been heard by this mysterious man?

At the bottom of the tower, John was waiting for Elizabeth. She felt surprised that she was so relieved and glad to see him. She knew he could only have been dragged from the castle by force, but still…He turned to walk at her side, limping, and she remembered how considerate he’d been, sleeping on Philip’s pallet instead of sharing the bed with her.

She’d almost been disappointed to awaken alone.

In the great hall, Milburn stepped in front of them, and they both came to a stop. She had a sick feeling of panic, so unusual for her. Had John’s identity been discovered? Had the fact that she slept safe in his room caused too much notice?

Milburn took the tray from her hands and gave it to John. “Lord Bannaster would like to see you, Anne.”

In that moment, her years of training resurfaced, and she found herself becoming calm. There were people all around them; it was the start of a new day, and Bannaster was no longer drunk.

But John stepped forward with his hand on his dagger, and Milburn arched a brow.

She put a hand on John’s arm. “Nay, ’tis all right,” she said quietly. “I will not leave the hall.”

She saw the way his jaw clenched, but he only nodded once. The relief inside her gave way to gratitude—he trusted her to make her own decisions. How many women could say that of the man they would marry?

She felt warm inside just looking at John. Milburn, usually so impassive, seemed almost…amused. Elizabeth schooled her features into stern lines and walked to the dais, where Bannaster sat at the head table, breaking his fast.

The viscount looked up at her, and there was no embarrassment in his expression.

Of course not—he was the kind of man who believed he could have any lowly maiden he wished.

“Anne,” he said, after chewing and swallowing a piece of bread, “you can tell Lady Elizabeth that I heard of her betrothed in London.”

She stiffened in surprise, but only nodded, hoping he would continue.

“Quite to my surprise, the king has received regular reports on him for many years. It seems he’s quite famous in Europe.”

“Lady Elizabeth had heard of his talent as a swordsman,” she said cautiously.

“He’s won many of the major tournaments, and apparently he’s quite in demand as a mercenary. A gifted fellow.”

She didn’t understand what Bannaster’s purpose was in telling her all this.

“But sadly, although he may be gifted, it is obvious he cares as little for family obligations as his brother did, for he’s not come back for your lady.”

She lowered her eyes, for she couldn’t show triumph. And then her good feelings faded away, as she realized that yet another person believed the worst of William.

Bannaster sighed. “William was a pleasant companion, though, and I must admit to missing him. No one could sway a roomful of wenches with his handsome looks as much as William could. He knew just what to say. When he died, I was worried what would happen to this estate. It is only fair that as his friend, I make sure it is taken care of.”

He sounded like he believed everything he was saying, too, as if marriage and an impressive dowry were a great hardship no one wanted to bear.