Page 29
“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?”
