She was suddenly alive with excitement as what had been another boring day of routine became rife with possibility. Abandoning her sewing, bidding the women stay where they were, she ran down to greet them, although as soon as she reached the doorway she smoothed her gown, composed herself, and walked out as regally as her aunt Alienor confronting the King. ‘Welcome.’ She gave John a cool, gracious curtsey as befitted the lady of the house to a guest. ‘My father is absent about his business, but he will be happy to see you when he returns. For now, may I offer you hospitality?’ John inclined his head and his lips curled in a mocking smile. ‘Thank you; we would be glad of refreshment – and a bed for the night.’ The words were spoken with the utmost civility into which nothing could be construed, unless one was especially looking for a nuance. ‘We are on our way to meet my father on his return from Normandy.’ He looked round. ‘Your lady mother is not here?’ ‘She is at Conisbrough with my sisters.’ Belle’s face was hot under his scrutiny.
