“Oh, Muriel, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.” Her horror reduced her voice to a hoarse whisper. “I would never wish any pain on you, please believe me. I should have come back to Berkhamsted with you.” An ache stabbed her heart as if it truly were breaking in two.
“No, Evangeline.” Muriel shook her head. “You always think everything is your fault, but it’s not. This was Lord Shiveley’s doing, not yours. Besides, I knew this might happen, but I risked it because I . . . wanted to be with Frederick.”
“Frederick came to tell us you were in the dungeon and he was afraid of what Shiveley would do to you. He is the reason we came, to save you and to save the king. He thinks Shiveley eventually hopes to usurp the throne.”
“Yes, poor Frederick. And now he is in the dungeon. I just saw them taking him there, along with Lord le Wyse.”
Someone pounded on the door, making them both jump.
“Hurry up in there! Get dressed, or I’ll come in there and dress you myself.”
“That’s Shackelford.” Muriel dashed over to Evangeline’s trunk to pull out her best dress. Her hands were shaking as she held it up.
“Muriel, I’m so sorry for what they did to you.”
“Never mind that. Let us make haste.”
“But I learned some things while I was in Glynval, how to defend myself. Perhaps I could help us both escape.”
“Shiveley has too many men. They would only capture us again. He is determined to have you, Evangeline.” A haunted look shone out of Muriel’s eyes, something completely unfamiliar. “We cannot escape.”
She did not want to be the cause of further punishment for Muriel, so she hurried to get out of her men’s clothing. “Do not worry. We’ll get out somehow.”
Muriel nodded but did not look at her. They both worked to get Evangeline’s clothing off her and the dress on. As soon as it was in place and laced up, Shackelford pounded on the door again.
“She’s ready,” Muriel called.
The door opened, and Shackelford stepped forward and took hold of Evangeline’s arm, then addressed Muriel. “You go down ahead of us.”
Muriel went out the door and they started down the stairs.
As Evangeline entered the Great Hall, Lord Shiveley looked up at her and smiled. “Here she is, my king. I told you my men would find her.”
Richard’s face was like a mask as he stared at her. “Evangeline, you made us very sad when you ran away.”
She stared back at him. Richard, please realize that this man is not your friend. He is evil! She wanted to scream it out. But if she did, good people would get hurt, or even killed. Muriel. Frederick. And Lord le Wyse. It felt like a bad dream, seeing the king but not being able to ask for his help.
“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.