“Nicola, this is serious.”
“I realize that. But it won’t be easy to take those kinds of things without being caught.”
“But you will help me, won’t you?”
She stopped and looked at Evangeline. “You love Westley, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then perhaps you should stay here. He will be very angry with you when he sees you ignored his wishes. It might be wiser to do as he asked.”
Was she right? Would it be wiser? She thought for a moment, her mind going over every possible scenario. She tried to think of herself staying hidden in the castle while they went to save Richard and Muriel.
“He shouldn’t be angry. He knows I am no coward, and he would not wish me to be. Besides, he hasn’t exactly asked me to marry him. I don’t have to obey him.”
“That is true.” Nicola actually smiled. “Men are attracted to women with some courage and spirit.”
“I truly know nothing about men. And I so want Westley to love me.” The admission made tears come to her eyes. “And yet I cannot stay here. Even if it means death to me, I must go and do what I can to save Muriel and Richard. But I don’t want Westley to hate me.”
“Evangeline, you are the king’s ward, the daughter of the Duke of Clarence, and the granddaughter of King Edward. You can do anything you wish, and Westley would be a fool not to marry you at the first possible moment.”
Her words made Evangeline’s heart flutter, not with joy or anticipation, but with fear. Would Westley want to marry her only because she was of royal blood?
She did not have time to waste worrying about such things. She and Nicola hurried to find what Evangeline would need.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Westley rode at a brisk walk on his favorite horse, Gallagher. They’d been riding most of the day and only had an hour or two of daylight left, so they pressed on before they would be forced to stop.
It had only taken them about three hours to round up twenty men, gather supplies and weapons, and start out. The road was hard packed and dusty, as they had had little rainfall for a few weeks. Trees lined most of the way, but occasionally they passed close enough to a village to see some fields, mostly empty, as the grain had already been harvested.
Westley still was not sure who all the men with him were. He had been mostly riding and talking with his father and his friends, Robert, Piers, Aldred, and a few others. Finally, when the sun had set and it was completely dark, they halted.
None of them had ridden so far in a long time, and some of them had never sat a horse for so many hours. Westley could see the suppressed groans on everyone’s faces as they dismounted, took out their blankets, and got ready to lie down to sleep.
One of the men raised his voice. “Who are you?”
Westley turned in time to see one of the larger men push the shoulder of a thinner one. “What is amiss there?”
“This one says you asked him to come”—the man pulled the skinny one forward by his upper arm—“but none of us know who he is.”
Westley stepped forward to meet them. The skinny one’s face was mostly covered by an oversize hood. He wore loose leggings and a tunic that was cinched by a leather belt.
Westley took hold of the hood and flung it back, revealing a head of wavy red hair.
Evangeline’s defiant eyes looked back at him.
His heart sank to his toes and his breath rushed out of him. Did his expressed wishes mean nothing to her? She was dearer to him than his own life, and yet here she was, a glaring target for the man who wanted to harm her. She was deliberately putting herself in danger. Did she not understand that he could not bear the thought of Lord Shiveley harming her?
“What are you doing here?” His voice sounded raspy.
“I have come to help free my friend.” She spoke loudly so everyone would hear her.
How would all these men react to having a woman among them? They’d be angry, horrified, or even downhearted. “I asked you to stay in Glynval. What have you done?”
“I can help, but you are too stubborn and proud to admit it.” She lifted her chin, her green eyes sparking.
Heat rose into his face. “You’re being foolish. You know Shiveley wants nothing more than to have you back at Berkhamsted. You will only make trouble by being here.” He clenched his fist around his sword hilt. He should stop talking before he said anything else to hurt her. “What do you plan to do? Give yourself up to Shiveley in exchange for Muriel? Do you want to marry him now?”
Her cheeks turned bright red. “How dare you?”
“How dare I?” No one had ever said that to him before. Now he was seeing for the first time how the spoiled ward of a king behaved.