The Silent Songbird (Hagenheim #7)(6)
Richard suddenly laughed. “She has quite the humorous streak, Shiveley. A bit of rebellion, perhaps, but Evangeline is as sweet as honey. Aren’t you, my dear?” Richard’s lip quirked up in a smirk, but a brittleness shone in his eyes.
Heat rose into Evangeline’s cheeks. Thinking of her half-packed bag in the bottom of her trunk allowed her to smile. “I enjoy music, my lord. And decorative sewing and reading. I am afraid I have no other talents.”
Lord Shiveley lifted his thick lips in what must have been an attempt at a smile. “Your modesty becomes you. And if you wish to learn archery, I am sure that can be arranged.”
How magnanimous of you.
“And His Majesty has graciously agreed to allow you to bring any servants you wish to take, anyone you are attached to, and of course, as your personal companion, Muriel will accompany you.”
They carried on a three-way conversation until Richard began talking with Muriel. He had known her since he was a child and always remembered her name. Most of the other servants would have been struck speechless, and possibly senseless, if the king spoke to them. Muriel was amazingly unintimidated by him. She spoke with the confidence of a duchess, and he seemed to like that.
“You will enjoy my country home,” Lord Shiveley said quietly, bending his head toward Evangeline. “I will not require you to travel with me when I am with the king, but you may join me at the king’s favorite residence, Sheen Palace, when I accompany the king there.”
His gaze dipped to her chest. Evangeline cringed and leaned away from him, but he did not seem to be bothered by her reaction. His small, alert eyes did not seem to miss a thing, in spite of how low his eyelids hung.
“I hope you are as eager for the marriage as I am. The king has said no one else has asked for you, no doubt because your birth was illegitimate.”
Evangeline’s face burned. “I should be thankful you are willing to marry me, then?”
His smile disappeared. “Marriage to me will greatly improve the way you will be remembered. Any woman in England would be glad to marry the king’s closest advisor.”
“I am surprised you do not marry someone more worthy of your status, then. After all, I am illegitimate and have neither fortune nor title.”
Lord Shiveley’s nostrils flared. “Be that as it may, you have royal blood, which is what I want, and tomorrow you will be my wife.” His voice was low and harsh. “Whether you wish it or not.”
Her stomach churned. If only she could wipe the smirk off his face. He must think he had Richard completely within his power, proclaiming himself the king’s closest advisor.
“It grows late,” King Richard said. “Evangeline, you go on and enjoy yourself. I am too tired from my travels to join you for the feast in the Great Hall, but Lord Shiveley will keep you company.”
They all began to take their leave of the king, but Evangeline hung back. “Your Majesty, may I speak to you alone for a moment?”
She sensed Lord Shiveley standing behind her, waiting for the king’s answer. Was the king shocked at her boldness?
Richard stared at her for a moment. “Everyone leave us. I will speak with my childhood friend.”
The others shuffled out the door as she locked gazes with the king. Finally, all were gone except for two guards who stood discreetly in the corners.
“Now, what is it, Evangeline? You must have something important to say.” The warning in his voice was unmistakable. “But before you say anything, I want you to understand that it is quite an honor to you that I have granted Lord Shiveley permission to marry you.”
“Yes, he has made it clear that I am fortunate to be marrying him, since I am only an illegitimate daughter of the king’s dead uncle.”
“Who left you without any fortune.”
So this was the king’s attitude toward her. She needed to be strong, to stand up in dignity to him, even if he thought her selfish. Crying would only confirm to him that she was but a weak female. She bit the inside of her mouth.
“It is true, I have no fortune.” She carefully considered what she would say. “But you do not resent allowing me to live here, do you? I have not cost you much, have I? All I ask is that you not force me to marry Lord Shiveley just yet. Delay the wedding.” It was all she could possibly hope for.
“What is the matter, Evangeline? You are of age. Seventeen is quite old enough for marriage.”
“But I do not wish to marry Lord Shiveley.” Her voice sounded so desperate, surely Richard would take pity on her.
“My dear,” he said after a short pause, “marriage is nothing to be afraid of. And none of us marry who we wish to or whom we have fallen in love with. Love before marriage is for peasants, a foolish notion invented by poets and minstrels. I was fifteen years old, as was Anne, when we married. Two and a half years later, our marriage is as peaceful and pleasant as anyone could wish. I have no doubt that you and Shiveley will be the same.”
This was as she had feared. The king not only would not come to her aid and postpone the marriage—during which Evangeline hoped something might happen to prevent it—but he thought she was selfish and unreasonable for not accepting his will.
“As a king, my situation is always precarious. I must take care to make alliances with the most powerful people I can to preserve our country’s well-being, not to mention my own. I married the woman I believed would bring me the most powerful and influential allies in England’s struggles against her enemies. And I have my own personal enemies, Evangeline, of which you could know nothing. You are safe here at Berkhamsted Castle, while I am the object of hatred for some, not the least of which is the Duke of Templeton, who is even now trying to turn the opinion of the nobility and parliament against me. He would have me deposed and would set up his own puppet in my place. Even though I despise Templeton and he would stab me through the heart if he could, I would gladly marry off my daughter, if I had one, to his son, simply to ensure that he would not someday put that knife through my heart, either literally or politically.”