The Silent Songbird (Hagenheim #7)(25)

What was he about to do? Would he bring Golda here and force a confrontation? Her heart pounded. After what she did to the reeve, if she caused their cook to be sent away, everyone would hate her even more than they already did. Should she run after him? What if she couldn’t find him and Lord or Lady le Wyse found her wandering around their home?

She had to make him see that it was her fault and the cook was not to blame. If she had to, she would beg him not to punish Golda.

Westley suddenly returned and knelt beside her, holding a small pot, such as one might use for perfume or salve, and in the other hand he held a roll of bandages.

“Give me your hands.”

She held them out, and he dipped a finger in the small pottery container.

“This is a healing salve my mother makes for scrapes and minor cuts. It will keep your open blisters from becoming septic.” His voice was grim, but his expression softened when he touched her hand, then proceeded to smear the thick, golden salve on her wounds.

“Am I hurting you?”

She shook her head.

“I wish someone had been looking out for you,” he said softly.

Her heart trembled. She’d never known a man could be so kind and tender, so compassionate and gentle, and yet so masculine and appealing. His touch sent warmth and pleasant sensations all through her.

Surely if God loved her, He would let her marry this man.





Chapter Nine


Westley’s heart turned over at the suffering that had been inflicted on this sweet maiden. When he had mentioned sending away the person who made her work this hard, she was horrified at the thought of causing anyone to be punished. And yet her hands were actually bleeding.

He brushed on the healing salve as carefully as possible so as not to inflict any further pain on her, first on one hand and then the other.

His mother always followed any application of her healing salve on one of her children with a kiss next to the wound. What would it feel like to kiss that delicate spot on the inside of Eva’s wrist?

What was he thinking? After all the times his parents had warned him not to take advantage of female servants in any way, he should know better than to allow such a thought into his head.

When he finished applying the salve, she just sat quietly, but he was very aware of her watching him. He picked up the roll and wrapped the cloth bandage around her hand. He cut it and tied it off, then repeated for the other hand.

“Not too tight, is it?”

She shook her head, then picked up the wax tablet and stylus, holding them awkwardly in her bandaged hands. “Thank you,” she wrote. “No other lords in England could be as kind as you.”

“Perhaps it makes up for some of the unkindness done to you.”

She nodded and ducked her head. Perhaps she wanted to read.

“I’ll let you get started. It’s a long book, and you may not be able to finish it before supper.”

She seemed to appreciate his weak jest, as she smiled up at him.

She opened the book with great care to the Acts of the Apostles and started reading.

He went for a walk in the garden, examining the rosebushes and tearing the leaves off a small limb that had fallen out of a tree. A butterfly flitted in front of him, and he was reminded of how joyfully Eva had chased the butterflies on their trip from Berkhamsted Castle. He’d thought her so childlike and full of life. But since coming here, she did not seem quite so unbridled in her joy. In fact, she had seemed horrified and sad, more than once. And no wonder, with being forced to work until her hands bled. Perhaps she would hate it here and she and her friend would leave.

That thought made his heart sink. He didn’t want her to go. He didn’t want anyone mistreating her. He wanted to keep her safe. But perhaps that was foolish. She had only just arrived here. He was not responsible for her. He did care about her, though. No one deserved to be mistreated, least of all someone who had already been so mistreated in her life, someone as innocent and fair of form and face as Eva.



When Evangeline reported for work at the manor house the next morning, Mistress Alice pulled her aside. “Someone told me you were injured. Rest your hands for today and we will examine them again in the morning.”

Evangeline worried about not being useful to the household for an entire day, and she ended up wandering through the meadow where some sheep were grazing, past the pigpen.

All day and no work to do. If only she could read some more in the Bible, but she did not have the courage to ask Lord or Lady le Wyse. She might be brave enough to ask Westley if she were to find him, so she walked toward the river. Perhaps he had gone fishing.

She wandered along the bank. She smiled to think that Muriel would warn her away, afraid she would fall in, if she were here. The water made a pleasant rushing sound in the still morning air. Even the birds were quiet here. Trees grew right up to the edge of the bank, and it truly was a peaceful place, more beautiful in its wildness than the cultivated and perfectly trimmed bushes of the gardens of Berkhamsted Castle.

Finding a large, smooth rock, she sat down. Wildflowers grew everywhere in Glynval, around the rocky places as well as the open meadows, a whole new world of beauty and wonder. Such a pity that Muriel wanted to go back to her old life.

Evangeline took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If only Muriel could be content here in Glynval. But it was unfair to expect it of her. Poor Muriel. Evangeline had only been thinking of herself, and now, what would the king do to punish Muriel when she returned to Berkhamsted? Of course he would force her to tell where Evangeline had gone.