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Bannaster scrutinized her again. “You make sure to tell Lady Elizabeth what I said.”
“Of course, my lord.” She curtsied and turned away from him.
John was waiting for her before the hearth, propped on his crutch. He’d been right about his brother all along, and she’d doubted him.
She walked toward him, and he smiled, and even the pull of his scar made her all soft inside for him.
When she stopped before him, he said, “Milburn has asked me to record the amount of sheep grazing Hillesley’s pastureland.”
“I can be ready to leave.”
He arched a brow.
“For Hillesley, anyway,” she amended.
In a lower voice, he said, “Are you well? What did he want?”
Elizabeth looked about, but the hall was emptying except for a few valets who cleaned the trestle tables. “I’m fine. He wanted to slur your name.”
Surprised, he glanced at Bannaster, but the man was already talking to Milburn as he walked toward the double doors leading outside.
“My name?” he echoed, amused.
“It seems the king has been following your famous exploits. I would have thought the king’s interest in you would bother Bannaster, but he seems far too sure of himself.”
“How is that a slur?”
She took a deep breath. “He compared you to your brother, and said that you obviously cared as little for your obligations as he did.”
Silently, John watched her. His eyes were so warm with understanding that she could have cried. Oh, how she was sick of these emotions she could so little control.
She sighed. “So it seems the king is an admirer of yours. That might help us someday. I don’t want to be caught unaware, so tell me of the condition of Rame Castle.”
“You know, I’ve come to believe that William might not truly have known what was going on there. The steward could have been the one deceiving him.”
“John, you don’t have to protect me. Regardless of whether he knew or not, William should have visited his family seat, evaluated its condition with his own eyes. And he didn’t.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, sweetling,” he murmured. “Rame will be yours as well, and I know how you take care of everything that’s yours.”
She wasn’t just giving her property away, she realized. He was offering to share his own. “Come, you can tell me all about it on the journey to Hillesley.”
As they walked outside, she felt as if she finally put the ghost of William to rest. Though he had tried to please her in ways that mattered to a little girl, he’d had his flaws. And he might have ruined Castle Alderley and all its property, if he had taken control from her.
But not John. She trusted that he would know that she had the best interests at heart of all of her people. He seemed to value her help and her opinion. If all he had wanted was her property, he wouldn’t care what she thought.
Could this be love? she suddenly wondered. Was she finally growing up, realizing what was important in her life?
She went on with her day, feeling better than she had in a long time. She was going to make this work. The king would want to hear John’s side of the story. Patience might be all she needed to cultivate.
* * *
After supper that evening, Adalia hesitantly approached Elizabeth when she came into the kitchen for a tray for Anne.
“Might I speak with ye a moment?” Adalia asked.
“Of course,” Elizabeth said with concern. The cook did not seem her usual sunny self. Was something else about to go wrong?
As Elizabeth had promised, she turned to see if John saw them. He nodded to her, and she told herself she wasn’t asking permission, only granting him a courtesy so that he would not have to worry about her.
