The Silent Songbird (Hagenheim #7)(24)

“Why is John Underhill so angry?”

Westley sighed. “I suppose he doesn’t want to think ill of his father, so he’s remembering the past differently.”

Reeve Folsham nodded and frowned.



Evangeline waited in the entryway. A pretty blonde maiden a few years younger than she called, “Westley! The new servant is here.” She walked away, as if to go find him.

A few moments later, Westley bounded in through the back passageway. “That rude girl was my sister Cate.” His brown hair was calmer than usual, as if he had combed it. “I have a place for us to read. Come.” He motioned her forward with his hand.

She followed him through the passageway toward the back of the house. They passed through a room where some older children were hunched over a chess game, but they did not look up as she and Westley passed.

Lady le Wyse entered the corridor in front of them. She smiled when she saw them. “Westley.”

He kissed her cheek and she patted his.

“Eva. How are you, my dear?”

Evangeline smiled at her.

“How are you doing with your work? I forgot to check on you today. Golda did not work you too hard, I hope?”

Evangeline shrugged and shook her head.

“That is good. Westley tells me you can read and that you wish to read the Bible. It is a noble ambition, to read the Holy Writ.”

Her words buoyed Evangeline’s spirit and dispelled some of her exhaustion.

The back door opened and Lord le Wyse stepped in.

Lady le Wyse’s face lit up as she turned toward him, and Lord le Wyse’s attention was immediately caught by her. He stepped toward his wife with a small smile on his lips. He kissed her briefly and she put her arm around him.

The look they gave each other made Evangeline slightly embarrassed, as if she had peeked in on someone when they thought they were alone, but it also pleased her to see a married couple so obviously in love with each other. Had they married for love?

Muriel should see this.

Westley motioned for her to follow him, and they passed by the lord and his lady, who called, “Don’t forget supper in an hour.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Fine catch of fish,” his father told him as he passed.

“Thank you, Father.”

Soon Evangeline and Westley were out the back door and standing on a flat expanse of green grass encircled by a low hedge. Beyond the hedge was a beautiful garden that fairly glowed in the light of the late-day summer sun.

“This is a spot where my sisters and I come to read sometimes.”

The vulnerable smile on his face seemed to say that he was inviting her to know something personal about himself.

He pointed to the low bench and the cushions on the ground around it, like a comfortable little alcove in the corner against the side of the stone exterior with the bushes juxtaposed against it.

“Here’s the Bible, the Latin one.” He picked up the large book that lay on the bench and held it reverently.

Evangeline gazed into his eyes. Could he see how grateful she was that he was being so kind to her when she was only a servant girl? How grateful she was for his sharing his family’s precious Bible with her? How would he know if she did not speak?

“Sit down, wherever you will be most comfortable, and I’ll give you the Bible. It’s very heavy.”

Evangeline chose a cushion on the ground. Look at me now, King Richard. Your ward, your pawn, is sitting on the ground about to read the Bible.

Westley bent and laid the book in her lap. “I also brought these.” He picked up a wax board and a stick about five inches long and held them out to her as he knelt beside her.

Evangeline’s breath caught in her throat. She had used a wax board when her tutors had taught her to read and write as a child. She took the instruments and immediately wrote in the wax on the small board.

“I am so grateful to you,” she wrote. She winced, as the action of writing rubbed against her open blisters on the inside of her thumb. But the pain was nothing compared to the joy of “speaking” with Westley.

“Now, which book of the Bible would you like to read first?”

She held the stick a little awkwardly to try to inflict as little pain as possible on herself. “I have read the Psalms already,” she wrote.

Suddenly Westley caught her hand and flipped it palm up.

“How did this happen?” He grabbed her other hand, forcing her to drop the wax tablet into her lap. That hand was equally damaged, her pale, delicate skin red and oozing in several places.

Her cheeks grew warm as he continued to stare at her hands.

“Eva.” His voice was breathless as he said her name, making her stomach tumble as he looked into her eyes.

She pulled her hands out of his loose grip and held them close to her chest, hiding her palms.

“Who made you work this hard on your first full day? I shall have them sent away for this.”

Evangeline shook her head vehemently. She grabbed the wax tablet and stylus and wrote, “Please, no. It was my fault. They did not know I had not done this kind of work before.” Was she revealing too much?

Westley handed her another wax tablet, as she had run out of room.

“I could have asked Golda to give me another task. It is all right. Please do not punish her.”

He closed his eyes for several moments before opening them, then stood. “Stay here. I shall return.”