The Silent Songbird (Hagenheim #7)(14)

Evangeline dared to whisper back, “Why?”

“We don’t want him discovering your secrets.”

Westley had been nothing but gracious. And he had risked his life to save a little girl. But if Evangeline knew Muriel, the reason she didn’t want him getting too close to her was due to his status as a peasant.



Evangeline and Muriel walked until dark, slept on the ground again, then walked all the next day. Evangeline had never walked so much in her entire life. By the time they reached Glynval, it was dark and they were all weary and footsore.

She and Muriel were taken inside the bottom floor of a building where beds were lined up and nearly all occupied. A servant showed them two empty beds against the wall. Evangeline did not even take the time to get undressed but lay down and fell instantly to sleep.

She awoke to find herself in a large rectangular room. Light streamed in through the small windows. Several rows of beds, now empty, met her curious glance around the room.

“Are you finally awake?” Muriel bustled toward her. “Get up and get ready. Mistress Alice is deciding where we shall work today.”

Evangeline sat up and rubbed her face.

“Most of the servant girls have gone out to the fields to cut the wheat. Here is your breakfast.” Muriel handed her a cloth bundle.

Evangeline unwrapped it and found a bread roll and a piece of cheese. She ate it quickly. Since she had slept in her overdress, she was ready to go as soon as she put on her shoes.

The bright sunlight made her blink as she emerged into a large courtyard of green grass. A young woman was slapping the ground with a stick to keep a gaggle of geese from straying, and a young man was leading a flock of sheep through a gate into a pasture. A wooden platform stood in the middle of the courtyard with a pillory, where a person’s head and hands would be imprisoned between two wooden boards for punishment. The steward occasionally used the pillory at Berkhamsted Castle to punish a servant for thievery.

A young woman was operating a windlass at a covered well. Muriel led her toward it. “Can she have a dipper of water?” Muriel said to the maiden raising the bucket.

“Who is this?” The maiden stared at Evangeline’s face, then looked her over from head to toe.

At Berkhamsted Castle, if a servant had spoken to Muriel that way, she would have given her quite the tongue-lashing. She squeezed Muriel’s arm. Please remember we are peasants now. Evangeline held her breath.

“And who are you?” Muriel leaned toward the girl, her hands on her hips.

“I am the girl with the bucket.” She smirked.

The girl seemed to be about Evangeline’s age. She brought the water bucket the rest of the way up and balanced it on the edge of the wall around the well. She had large blue eyes and blonde hair that came to her waist and was only partially covered with a kerchief. Her beauty was marred only by her smug smile.

Muriel simply scowled at her, a look that would have made Evangeline’s heart race if she had ever looked at her that way. The girl stared back at them, then finally dipped up some water and held it out to her.

Evangeline took it and drank the entire contents. The water was cold and pure and tasted wonderful. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was. She wanted to ask for another dipper full, so she handed it back but held on to the handle longer than necessary. Then she nodded while raising her eyebrows.

“She wants another.”

Muriel’s tone was not very friendly, so Evangeline smiled, hoping to win the girl over.

The girl frowned. “What’s the matter with her? Can’t she talk for herself?”

“She’s mute.”

“Oh.” The girl’s face brightened, though she still had that smug smile, still sizing Evangeline up out of the corner of her eye. She dipped the metal ladle into the bucket and handed over the water. “I heard you came back from Berkhamsted Castle with Westley and the boys.” Her tone was friendlier.

Some water dribbled down Evangeline’s chin and she wiped it with the back of her hand, just like a real peasant. Evangeline smiled as she handed back the empty dipper. No one would ever guess I am the ward of the king.

“And your friend is deaf and dumb?”

“No, not deaf. She is only mute.”

A pain, like a pricking in her chest, evidenced the guilt of allowing Muriel to repeat the lie. She needed to confess to the priest. But she could not offer confession if everyone thought she was mute. How would she ever be absolved?

But she would not think about that now.

“My name is Sabina. I am the miller’s daughter.”

“We are Mildred and Eva. Mistress Alice is waiting for us at the main house. Come, Eva.” Muriel turned away from Sabina and started off across the courtyard.

Evangeline glanced backward. Sabina was putting the bucket back into the well. She was the miller’s daughter then, not a servant.

Evangeline followed Muriel around a stand of trees. In a clearing a castle appeared—a lovely stone castle with towers and stained glass windows but smaller than the palace building at Berkhamsted Castle.

They walked around to a side door. Muriel knocked and a young woman let them into a room where several women were working—two were clearing a long table of food scraps and throwing them into a bucket, while another woman sat at a smaller table. She was using a pen made out of a hollow reed to write on a piece of parchment.