The Silent Songbird (Hagenheim #7)(52)

Her heart ached, but it was a lovely ache. She would remember this moment for the rest of her life, just like the moment after she saved him from drowning, the moment she realized he was alive and she had saved him.

She stood very still, afraid if she moved he would break the closeness. But he continued to hold her until they heard footsteps in the corridor outside.

Evangeline pushed away, breaking free from his arms, keeping her face turned away from him.

She walked over to where she had left her broom. “I should get back to work.” She reached for the broom, rubbing away the tears from her cheeks with her other hand, but Westley touched her shoulder.

“Don’t look at me.” She lifted her apron to wipe her nose. “I must look like a red, blotchy mess after all that crying.”

“I just want you to know,” he said, his hand still warm on her shoulder, “that I think you are very brave and that I understand. I will speak with my father, and we shall find a way out for you, out of this unwanted marriage.”

“You won’t tell the king I am here, will you?” She gazed up at him before remembering her tear-streaked face.

He caught her hand in his. A strand of hair fell over her eye. Just as she was about to push it out of the way, Westley brushed it back, his hand grazing her forehead. The breath stilled in her throat.

“I think you are lovely, even after all that crying.” A tiny smile raised the corners of his lips.

Her heart flipped inside her.

“I will do everything I can to keep you safe.” He hurried out of the room, leaving her staring after him.



Westley rushed out of the library, his heart pounding, before he completely lost his mind.

Eva—Evangeline—had finally broken down the wall he had always felt with her, had opened her heart and told him the truth. She had looked so vulnerable, so desperate and determined . . . and so beautiful. Her lips were plump and red and her eyes sparkling and bright green from the tears swimming in them. Holding her made him feel completely alive. He’d never wanted anything so much in his life as to kiss her.

He could not be thinking this way. His mind was churning even faster than his heart was beating.

He practically ran through the house. His father was walking down the staircase.

“Father, I need to speak to you.”

“Let’s go into the library.”

Eva—Evangeline—was in there. “No, let’s go . . . in here.” Westley led his father into a small empty bedroom.

“What is it, son? Did you see John Underhill again?”

“No, Father, but I did see the Earl of Shiveley’s men. They came here looking for a red-haired maiden who ran away from Berkhamsted Castle two weeks ago.”

He rubbed his cheek beneath his black eye patch. “Your mother told me you suspect Eva is Evangeline, the king’s cousin and ward.”

“I just spoke to Eva and she confessed it, without me even asking her.”

“She is the girl they were seeking.”

“Yes. It seems the king wants her to marry Lord Shiveley.”

“And she does not wish to?”

“Exactly.”

Father took a deep breath and sighed. “What did you promise her, Westley?”

His face grew warm. “I said what anyone with any kindness and mercy would have said. I told her I would do whatever I could to keep her safe. I don’t think she even knows that Shiveley probably murdered his first wife.”

Father was already shaking his head.

“Do not make me out to be a child who does not know anything of the world, Father.” Westley’s ire rose. “The Church says a woman cannot be forced to marry someone she does not wish to.”

“But you know as well as I do that women are often coerced to agree, especially in situations such as this. She is the king’s ward. She is obligated to do whatever the king asks of her. People of her birth do not have a choice whom they marry. They agree because they know it is their duty.”

“Are you saying that it is right? That she should do her duty and marry a man who will beat and mistreat her?”

“No, but—”

“Evangeline will never agree to marry Lord Shiveley. You should have seen her, Father. She was crying and saying she would run away again if I tried to send her back to Berkhamsted.”

“We do not want it on our consciences that we forced a maiden, no matter who she is, to marry someone she is determined not to.” Father sighed again. “If nothing else, we can help her find refuge at Rosings Abbey.”

“Perhaps she could hide here until the king and Shiveley forget about her.”

“I suppose it is possible, but sooner or later it’s likely the king’s men, or Shiveley’s, will find her. After all, if those men had asked almost any other person in Glynval besides you, they would have known the men were looking for Eva, and they would have said so. But let us hope they do not return.”

“If the king believes we are knowingly hiding his ward from him and from the man he wants her to marry, we could lose everything, could we not?”

“Yes.” Father looked thoughtful but not afraid. “Losing everything is sometimes the price one must pay for doing the right thing. I could not save my cousin, but perhaps . . . perhaps we can save the king’s. And if it comes down to it, we will seek an audience with King Richard and tell him what we know about Shiveley. He isn’t likely to believe us over one of his advisors, but we can try.”