“I tried to get him to remember what a hard man his father was, how he had beaten those two men in the weeks before the uprising before they killed him.”
“John is still angry about his father’s murder. He has found someone to blame in you and me. I am still not convinced John tried to kill you, but if he did, he will probably try again. I don’t want you going anywhere alone, and the same for this servant girl. From now on I want her to work and sleep here at the castle. You will probably regain your memory, and when you do, if Eva was telling the truth, we will need to send for the hundred bailiff.”
His father’s words lowered a heavy weight onto his chest. Thinking that his old friend could kill anyone, especially him, brought home the very unpleasant truth of how much John had become like his father—irrationally angry, suspicious, and violent.
Westley fingered the petals of a red rose as he stood in the flower garden. He should stop standing around, stop waiting to see if Eva would come and read with him.
“Westley!” his mother called to him as she walked out to meet him. When she was still several yards away, she said, “Your father just told me that someone may have been trying to kill you when you fell in the river. Why did you not tell me?”
“I did not know until two days ago, Mother.”
The pained look on her face only made his heart sink a little lower than it already was.
“Do you think Eva is telling the truth about John being the one who struck you?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed, then pulled off a loose rose petal and made indentations with his fingernail in the easily bruised flower’s flesh. “At first I was angry that she would even accuse him. But I don’t want to falsely accuse her of lying either. It’s just so hard to believe that John would try to kill me. Why? He has no reason to hate me.”
“You have not seen much of him the last three years, have you?”
He shook his head, still watching the rose petal grow more limp and wilted in his hand.
“What did she tell you about why she lied about being mute?”
“She said she was trying to avoid marrying someone. I suspect she may have meant the Earl of Shiveley.”
“Oh.” His mother’s mouth opened and her expression changed. “Did you tell your father that?”
“I don’t think I did.”
“Don’t you remember that your father’s cousin was Lord Shiveley’s first wife?”
“I had forgotten that. What was her name?”
“Margaret. It was nearly fifteen years ago. She married him, and for the next few months, every time her mother and father saw her, she had bruises on her face and arms. And then she was dead. We all suspected that he murdered her.”
“Was nothing ever done about it?”
“Nothing. It is difficult to cast suspicion on an earl, especially one as wealthy as he is.”
“I don’t remember you telling me anything about that.” He felt a burning in his stomach.
“Well, you were only a child at the time. We didn’t want to tell you something so sordid and terrible. And you did not know poor Margaret.” Mother’s face was sad as she stared out into the distant trees.
Just the thought of Eva marrying someone so despicable . . . No wonder she was so desperate to leave him, to disguise herself however she could to get away. But again, he did not know if she was fleeing Lord Shiveley. Even so, it was his men who had come after her.
“But don’t you realize? If she was to marry Lord Shiveley, and if she was living at Berkhamsted Castle, she must be . . . the king’s cousin, the one who supposedly sings so beautifully she can enchant the birds out of the trees.”
Westley’s mind raced. Could it be? After all, she knew nothing about the work of a servant, and her hands had blistered so badly she obviously had never done any hard work. But she knew how to read Latin and owned a Psalter—and she had a beautiful voice. He had heard her sing in the clearing near the river. Had he been so distracted by the fact that she had lied about being mute that he hadn’t realized hers was the same voice he’d heard from the upper window of Berkhamsted Castle?
“We must protect her!” Mother’s eyes widened and her expression was intense. “We must keep her hidden until we can tell the king what we know about Lord Shiveley’s first marriage. Surely he will not force his cousin to marry someone who murdered his first wife.”
“But the king might not believe that.” Perhaps we can keep her here forever, and the king need never know.
Mother bit her lip. “I cannot bear to think of her being mistreated the way Margaret was. I shall speak to your father about this.”
Westley watched her go.
Eva is the cousin of the king of England.
Westley and Aldred walked around the North Meadow where the Harvest Festival would take place. Sellers would come from miles around with their booths and wares, and they would need plenty of room.
Horses’ hooves sounded on the road just beyond a stand of trees. When they came into view, the horsemen spotted Westley and Aldred and proceeded toward them.
They wore the colors of the Earl of Shiveley.
Westley stepped forward.