The Silent Songbird (Hagenheim #7)(64)

As they followed her inside, he gave Evangeline an apologetic look.

“Your mother is right. Let her take care of it.”

“What happened?” Lady le Wyse led the way into her small room where she kept the bandages and her homemade remedies.

“John’s man stuck me with his knife.”

Evangeline and his mother gasped at the same moment.

“Nothing more than a scratch. A prick of the knife point while he was forcing me to walk with him into the woods. It is not as if he stabbed me through my liver.”

Westley laughed, but neither Evangeline nor Lady le Wyse even smiled.

His mother ordered him to sit on the stool in the middle of the room, and Evangeline hovered close where she could see. Lady le Wyse lifted his tunic, exposing his side and a swath of his lean stomach as she peered down at the wound. “Hold this,” she said, and Westley took the hem of his tunic from her, holding it up so she could see.

“It is not very deep,” his mother said.

“I told you,” Westley muttered.

“Evangeline, get me that jar there, will you?” Lady le Wyse pointed to a shelf behind her.

Evangeline fetched the container. Lady le Wyse finished wiping the blood from the wound, which seemed to have almost stopped bleeding.

As his mother smeared the healing salve on the small puncture wound in his side, Evangeline said softly, “I’m so sorry I didn’t even notice you were bleeding.”

“It is nothing.” Westley gave her a jaunty half smile. Evangeline’s stomach flipped.

Lady le Wyse took up a roll of cloth and wrapped it twice around his middle. “It should heal without much more bleeding, but it is difficult to tell with puncture wounds, since I don’t know how deep it is.”

“Thank you, Mother. I’m sure it will be fine. Evangeline will think this is too much fuss over a little knife prick. She is so tough herself—working all day every day with bleeding hands.”

“My hands are not bleeding anymore.” She smiled back at him as his mother took the shears from her and cut off the bandage, then handed them back to Evangeline and tied the bandage in place.

“There.” Lady le Wyse stared at him, then blinked rapidly.

“Mother, please, do not cry. I am very well, as you can see.”

“But you were nearly killed.” She placed her hand over her mouth.

“There, now.” Westley looked a bit awkward as he stood and embraced his mother, patting her shoulder. “I don’t think John would have actually killed me.”

“He would have left you in the river to drown.”

“Yes, but Evangeline will not allow anyone to kill me, you see.” He pulled away from his mother and gave Evangeline another jaunty smile and a wink. “We are both safe as long as we have each other.”

“And Reeve Folsham,” she added.

Lady le Wyse turned to Evangeline and threw her arms around her. “Yes, thank you, my dear. You are our guardian angel. I could not bear it if anything happened to Westley.”

Nor could I. “I am only grateful I was able to help. God guided me, no doubt.”

“Of course.” Lady le Wyse sniffed, drew out a handkerchief, and dabbed at her eyes. “God is merciful and has kept us all safe once again. Forgive me, my dear. I am just a bit overcome at the thought of someone trying to harm my son.”

“Of course. There is nothing to forgive.”

“Come, come,” Westley said, his voice loud as he laid one arm around each woman’s shoulder. “This is a strange way to spend the Harvest Festival. Let us go and enjoy ourselves.”

Lady le Wyse clasped Evangeline’s hand and looked into her eyes, her gaze at once penetrating and kind. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Mother . . .”

“Very well. Go on.” She took a few steps away from them. “I must check on my youngest son and daughter upstairs, and all three of us will be there soon.”

Westley was already holding Evangeline’s hand again, heading toward the door.

“See you at the singing contest,” Westley said as they left the room.

“I nearly forgot.” Evangeline put a hand over her mouth.

“Forgot you will be singing this evening?”

“Yes.”

“I should get some food in you so you don’t faint on the stage.”

Evangeline laughed. “I won’t faint. I have sung for—” She stopped herself.

They seemed to be alone as they walked through the castle toward the front door, but she still did not think it wise to make any indiscreet announcements.

As they reached the door, Westley stopped and whispered near her ear, “You sang for the king. Is that what you were about to say?”

“Yes.”

“Evangeline.” He moved to stand in front of her, the smile gone from his face. “I know you are far above me in social status. You are the granddaughter of a king and King Richard’s cousin, but do you think you could—?”

“Westley! There you are.” Lord le Wyse started toward them from the other end of the corridor.

Westley seemed reluctant to tear his gaze from hers and glance at his father. Evangeline turned to face him as well.

“We must discuss what to do with John Underhill. He is making all sorts of threats. And when the men from Caversdown hear we have their lord locked away . . .”