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She ignored that. “And your attempted seduction of me⁠—”

“I attempted no such thing!” he said, stalking up to her and putting his hand on the side of her face so she’d be forced to look at him. “If I would have wanted to seduce you, I would have done it.”

She slapped his hand away and ducked away from him into the center of the room. “It is not my fault that I know not if I can trust you.”

They glared at each other in silence, both breathing heavily, both full of mistrust.

“Say what you will,” John said, “but you will be my wife. You may think that you preferred my brother, but your body and your lips say otherwise.”

“You are crude.”

“And someday you’ll admit that you enjoy it. Do you still want to escape what Lord Bannaster has planned, although it is to me that you must submit yourself?”

He saw her flinch at his words, but her chin came up. “Our betrothal is binding. I will not dishonor my parents by trying to escape it.”

It almost sounded like she wanted to, and he suddenly felt very tired.

“Then I need a missive written in your hand,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes. “Explain this to me. Please.”

“My men—the two who handed you the parchment yesterday—have found your army.”

She inhaled, and he saw the relief in her eyes.

“But your captain of the guard is loyal to you, and will not take the word of two common soldiers that I am your betrothed. He wants proof from you that he can trust me.”

She looked away, and he knew that she still debated that herself. Certainly she didn’t trust him—she had withheld the truth from him for too long.

“You need to be rescued,” he said coldly.

“But not with an attack by an army.”

“I am a knight. I give you my word that I will attack only as a last resort. But I need soldiers, Elizabeth.”

“What will you do with them?”

“Train them. My men are experts in warfare, techniques from Europe that are only just making their way into England.”

“Warfare!” she cried.

In one stride he was against her, hand on her mouth. “Silence,” he murmured against her ear. “Do you want someone to hear of this conversation?”

She struggled, and he gladly let her go. Touching her only confused him, made him forget everything except that she would be waiting in his marriage bed.

For a moment, he considered suggesting that he take her right now, sealing their union, denying Bannaster. But they were both still so angry, and he didn’t want to begin their relationship like that. And besides, if Bannaster were only concerned about the title, he wouldn’t care if his bride came to him impure.

* * *

Anne strummed her lute in the tower bedchamber, trying to find a cheerful melody, but only haunting, sad ballads came to her fingers. For some reason, the loneliness tonight seemed like a heavy weight that pressed against her. Each night she battled it, hated putting out the candle and surrendering to the darkness, when her fears seemed to expand. She found herself staying awake later and later each night, leaving her more tired when the rising sun woke her.

Suddenly she heard a sound outside her window. Her fingers froze on the strings, her head cocked. Surely it was a bird taking rest, as had happened often in these last days. She would try to coax them into the room as if she could make a pet of a wild creature.

The sound came again, like a giant brush against the shutters.

Could someone be lowering another basket?

She vaulted to her feet, tossing the lute onto a table, and threw the shutters wide. At first she saw nothing in the darkness. Suddenly, something swung in at her, and she stumbled back. But it was only the end of a rope, knotted at intervals, and it was vibrating.