The Silent Songbird (Hagenheim #7)(40)

“Sabina,” Lord le Wyse said, “shall I ask you again?”

“I-I didn’t know, my lord. I was trying to hurry and do as Mistress Golda bid me and gather the mushrooms, and I didn’t realize they were the poisonous ones.” Sabina sobbed. “You must believe me. I would never hurt anyone.”

“What kind of mushrooms were they? Does anyone know?”

A woman’s voice rose above the others. “They were fool’s toadstools.”

Someone else said, “Fool’s toadstools are not deadly. They will only make you sick for a few hours.”

Another person added, “They look very much like the harmless moon’s caps.”

“It was just a mistake,” someone else called out.

Reeve Folsham reached the platform. He mounted the steps and stood beside Evangeline. “You all falsely accused this young woman. Now, Eva”—he turned toward her—“what must they do to gain your forgiveness?”

Eva rubbed her arm where she could feel a bruise, then stopped when she realized what she was doing. Everyone was staring at her while Sabina continued to sob nearby.

Eva drew herself up, straightening her shoulders. “Nothing. I forgive them.”

“They will at least ask your forgiveness, every man who laid a finger on you.” He glared at the men standing on the platform with her who had dragged her forcibly from the castle and across the courtyard.

The men looked sheepish, barely lifting their gazes from the ground. “Will you forgive me?” one man said, then the others followed suit, mumbling, “Forgive me.”

“I forgive you,” Evangeline answered.

Sabina cried more quietly now as everyone seemed to have forgotten her.

The crowd trickled away. Muriel took Evangeline by the elbow to help her down the steps of the platform. As soon as she took a step, she cringed at the pain in her ankle and limped down the steps.

“You are hurt.” Westley was by her side when she reached the bottom.

Evangeline shook her head. “No.” She kept her voice strong and steady and her head down as a tear dripped from her eye. She quickly willed away any more tears.

Muriel led her toward the manor house undercroft.

“You have not had your dinner,” Westley said, still following alongside them. “Come to the house. Let my mother see to you. I think you are hurt.”

“I am well. I can walk.” Defiance rang out in her voice . . . in her heart. He had not believed her, had at least half believed the accusations that she had tried to poison them. It was on his face. Why could he not simply leave her alone and let her go to her bed and cry her tears in peace?

She limped toward the manor house undercroft, clinging to Muriel’s arm.



Westley’s heart sank as Eva turned away from him. But he could not let her limp away without finding out how badly she had been hurt by that mob of angry servants bent on punishing her.

“Please.” Westley jumped in front of her to block her way. “I insist you allow me to take you to my mother.”

Eva and Mildred stopped. Eva lifted her head but refused to look him in the eye.

“Perhaps you should,” Mildred said to her. “Let Lady le Wyse make sure you have no broken bones from those evil brutes.”

Eva nodded, still not speaking.

They walked toward the castle. Eva continued to cling to Mildred and look straight ahead as he led them into the house and down the corridor.

His mother stepped out of the Great Hall where they had all been dining when they heard the commotion.

“Lord le Wyse told me what happened. Oh, you poor thing.” His mother, ever eager to nurse someone’s wounds, reached her hands out to Eva. “I shall take good care of you. And, Mildred, you can come too.” She put her arm around Eva’s shoulder and led her away.

Westley followed them, in spite of not being invited.

Mother and the other two women went into Mother’s sick room, where she sometimes treated the servants and other villagers. Mother’s care was an option for those who could not be helped by the village barber, who would bleed the sick person or sew up the injured, or Joan the herbal healer, who prescribed plants and dried herbs for just about everything that could ail a person or animal.

Mother would be able to help her. But he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he could not have saved her the anguish of being wrongfully attacked by a mob—a horrendous thing to happen to a gentle maiden. And he felt even worse that initially he had not believed in her innocence. Thanks be to God for Reeve Folsham, who had been a witness and could vouch for the truth of Eva’s words.

What else might she have been telling the truth about?





Chapter Fifteen


Evangeline followed Lady le Wyse into a room with bandages and vials and small lidded pots on shelves on the walls.

“Mildred,” Evangeline said quietly, “I don’t want you to miss your dinner. Why don’t you go?”

Muriel hesitated.

“I will take good care of her.” Lady le Wyse smiled.

“Very well.” Muriel turned to leave.

Evangeline lifted her head to watch her go—and noticed Westley standing just inside the door. She jerked her gaze back to Lady le Wyse, who motioned for her to sit on a chair padded with cushions.