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“Anne, come out to the stables when you are ready,” John said.

“And you will be able to ride with your leg broken?” she asked.

“Nay, I plan to ask for the use of a cart. You can ride at my side.”

“Not behind you, like a good maidservant?” she asked sweetly.

“At my side will do,” he said softly. “Someday I’d like to show you other ways to ride.”

When they both started laughing, Elizabeth looked between them in confusion. She guessed he had said something lewd that she did not understand. In a huff she turned away and almost strode right toward the head table, where Sir Charles lounged like the lord of the castle, a position he obviously coveted. She ducked down the first corridor she came to, and wished she could escape from all men.

When Anne left them, John’s smile faded.

“Whatever you’re doing,” Philip said, “I don’t think ’tis working.”

“I’m not so certain about that.”

“She seems angry.”

“I think she’s angry because she likes me too much.”

“And you’re angry because…you like her too much?”

“When I rescue Lady Elizabeth, how can I allow Anne to remain as her servant, after the way I’ve treated her, after how she makes me feel? Anne will never be able to trust me.”

“’Tis not her who needs to trust you, it is Lady Elizabeth. And she’ll be so grateful for the rescue, that she’ll forgive your methods.”

“But Anne will be hurt,” John said quietly, looking at the empty doorway through which she’d disappeared. “I fear flirting with her is becoming far too easy. But I cannot stop.”

* * *

Elizabeth perched on the seat of the small cart as Sir John guided it beneath the portcullis in the gatehouse and out into the countryside. The sun was warm on her face, and for a moment, she reveled in it, closing her eyes and letting the heat soothe her after the never-ending damp chill of the castle. The road jarred them repeatedly, and she had to catch hold of the crutch so that it wouldn’t bounce right out of the cart. She kept it between them, like a line neither of them should cross.

Sir John glanced at her occasionally, his eyes inquisitive and amused. The sun glinted off his light brown hair and sparkled in his blue eyes, and she found herself feeling…breathless. She told herself that the scar represented a man scarred within as well, but she couldn’t believe that.

He was taking her away from prison and into freedom, and for only a moment, she imagined being a simple maid, courted by a handsome knight. But even simple maids often weren’t free to choose their own destiny, and if she ran away with her handsome knight, Anne might be killed when the deception was discovered. Nay, the burden of Castle Alderley was Elizabeth’s. She would bear it and free her people.

As the road curved and the castle disappeared from view, she leaned back, cupped her hands around one knee, and glanced at Sir John. “By your title, you are a knight,” she said, hoping that by keeping him talking, she could distract them both from other things.

His lips curved in a small smile that she found mischievous.

He flicked the reins. “Aye.”

“You have no land of your own?”

“None. I am the youngest son—like your lady’s betrothed.”

“Ah, so you feel you understand him.”

“Nay, I only know my own situation. My father had but one estate, and it went to my brother.”

His voice and eyes were serious, and she sensed there was much he did not say. He kept his gaze on the road ahead, and she was able to study his profile.

“But you think you could have done better than your brother?” she asked.

“Aye, there is no doubt of that, but it is useless to talk of the past as if one could change it.”

“So you studied to be a bailiff while you were training as a knight?”