The Silent Songbird (Hagenheim #7)(74)
“Come, my dear.” Lord Shiveley motioned to her. “Sit by me.”
She moved cautiously forward and sat opposite Lord Shiveley and at King Richard’s left hand.
“Evangeline,” the king said, “are you sorry now that you ran away? The world is a harsh place, after all.”
He wanted her to thank Lord Shiveley for bringing her back. Well, she could play along, to keep her friends safe.
“The world is a harsh place, King Richard. A place where women are used as pawns.”
The king’s face grew hard, so she changed her tone. “But being a peasant and trying to keep body and soul together is not an easy life.”
“Lord Shiveley tells me you were on your way back to Berkhamsted Castle when he and his men found you this morning.”
“That is true.”
“Lord Shiveley also tells me you have agreed to say your marriage vows before the priest this very evening.”
“Oh? I don’t remember agreeing to that.” Evangeline’s heart beat hard against her ribs.
Shiveley gave her a dark look.
“It is late.” Evangeline tried to smile. “And the priest will not have time to prepare . . . for the ceremony.”
The king’s jaw hardened again. “It’s time to put away your childishness, Evangeline. We wish the marriage to take place tonight.”
“If neither of you are too tired, I suppose I cannot object—after we have all eaten, of course.” Evangeline wanted to scream. Instead, she clenched her fists under the table.
A servant hurried to bring her a trencher, and they all were served a large square of meat jelly. Evangeline did her best to eat a few bites of the heavily spiced jelly before a large pheasant was placed on the table in front of them. Lord Shiveley placed a portion on her trencher. She merely stared at it.
She would have to get away tonight, even though she had no weapon and no plan, and Shiveley’s guards were everywhere. And she dare not think about Westley except to believe that God had rescued him from the moat.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Westley made his way slowly and carefully to the palace building, pausing in the shadows to look around. It was quite dark now. He did see one guard—one of Shiveley’s men—at the door where he had seen the earl, Evangeline, Father, and Frederick enter.
When he was nearly to the door, he took the rock he had picked up by the bank of the moat and threw it so it hit the side of the stone wall. The guard turned his whole body to face the sound. He put his hand on his sword hilt and took a few steps in that direction.
Westley ran forward and struck the guard on the back of the head. He fell facedown on the ground.
Westley stripped the man of his sleeveless surcoat, which bore Shiveley’s colors. He pulled it on over his head. Then he took the man’s dagger from his belt even as the guard began to moan and awaken.
Westley hurried into the palace through the door and hid himself in the shadows. He heard voices in the distance, growing fainter. Hearing nothing from above, he took the steps two at a time, soon reaching the upper floor. But which room belonged to the king? Thankfully, no guards were in sight. If the king was at dinner in the Great Hall, the guards would be with him, or at least near him. Westley went to the door that looked the most like where the king might sleep, opened it, and snuck inside.
Evangeline kept alert for any way she might speak to Richard without Shiveley hearing her, but he was just as alert, speaking only to the king and to Evangeline during the meal. She could think of no way to tell the king that Shiveley was evil that would convince him and still keep the earl from sending someone to the dungeon to kill Muriel and Lord le Wyse.
As the feast was beginning to come to a close, Evangeline’s hands shook. She stared desperately at Richard, but he didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. Finally, Shiveley spoke.
“I would like to take Evangeline and have our wedding blessed by the priest. Will you be the witness to our marriage vows, my king?”
“Of course. I shall go up to my room for a few moments and rejoin you in the chapel.”
Evangeline watched him go. Shiveley already had hold of her arm and was pulling her toward the stairs. “If I remember correctly, the chapel is this way.”
She glanced around. Two guards were watching them as they departed through the doorway. Two more were behind them, meeting her stare. Even if she could get away from Lord Shiveley, she could not get away from so many guards.
Westley, where are you? Was he alive? Had he been able to get out of the moat before he drowned? Her heart twisted painfully. God, I pray he is safe, and I pray You will help me escape.
There was nowhere to run to as they climbed the stone steps to the chapel, surrounded by Shiveley’s men.
Westley crouched against the wall. When no guard came at him, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He was alone in a large bedchamber. He walked over to a trunk against the wall. Did this room and this trunk belong to King Richard? How could he know for sure?
Perhaps he should check the other rooms to see which was the largest and most sumptuously furnished. But that would take time, and he might get caught. The guard whose clothing he had stolen could be awake now and spreading the news that an intruder was in the castle.
A long garment lying across the bed caught his eye. It was purple and had ermine trim. Surely not even the arrogant Lord Shiveley would wear purple and ermine in the presence of the king.