Someone cleared his throat about thirty feet away. Evangeline turned to see Richard and Westley’s father standing there. Her cheeks burned.
The king said, “The servants are preparing a small feast for us in honor of our defeat of Lord Shiveley.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Westley said.
The king smiled as though amused, and Lord le Wyse raised his brows as they turned and went back toward the Great Hall.
Westley’s blue eyes were staring into hers again. “I suppose we should not anger the king, not when I have something so important to ask of him. Shall we go?”
She wanted to say something daring like, “If you promise to kiss me again soon,” but she only whispered, “As you wish.”
Westley held Evangeline’s hand under the table while his father and the king discussed various political situations the king was dealing with. He waited for a chance to speak.
“Westley,” Evangeline said softly, gazing at him with those beautiful green eyes of hers, “will you ask that servant over there where Muriel is?”
He waved to the servant girl, and she hurried over. Evangeline leaned away from the table and asked her, “Where is Muriel?”
“She is with Frederick, my lady.”
“So she is safe?”
“I should say so. They went to the priest to ask him to bless their marriage.”
Evangeline’s eyes widened, but she smiled and thanked the servant. She squeezed Westley’s hand under the table.
Just then, the king finally looked his way and addressed him. “Westley, Evangeline has very good instincts about men, do you not think?”
“Uh, of course, Your Highness.”
“She told me she did not wish to marry Lord Shiveley and was quite emphatic that she did not think he was the kind of person I thought he was. Unfortunately, I did not listen to her and she ran away. Would you not say that showed good insight—even foresight?”
“There is no doubt she is a remarkable and extraordinary woman. And I would like to ask you, if I may—”
“I know what you are about to say.” The king lowered his voice and leaned in close. “It is quite plain that you wish to ask me for Evangeline. But the truth is, I cannot have my cousin marry a commoner with no title.”
Westley’s heart sank. Evangeline had said she would marry him even if the king did not give his consent. Would they have to run away to the Continent?
“I have an announcement I want to make,” the king said.
Did he intend to marry Evangeline off to someone else? Westley’s blood rose into his face. He would defy the king and spirit her away this very night and have their marriage blessed by the bishop near Glynval. They could hide out somewhere in the German regions of the Holy Roman Empire.
Around them sat a few of the king’s knights who had spent the last several days in the dungeon as a consequence of their loyalty to the king and running afoul of Lord Shiveley’s guards. And across the table from Westley sat Father. But in spite of the fact that there weren’t many dignitaries to hear his announcement, the king stood until he had the attention of the entire room. Even the servants who were bringing platters of food stopped and looked on.
“Friends and loyal subjects”—King Richard looked oddly humble—“it appears my fair cousin, Evangeline, daughter of my uncle Lionel, Duke of Clarence, possesses supernatural discernment of character. If she had not rejected the traitorous Earl of Shiveley, he might have succeeded in his plot to overthrow me and usurp my crown. Cheers for my favorite cousin, Evangeline of Berkhamsted Castle!”
The room roared with cheers and foot stomping so loud it was nearly deafening. Evangeline blushed and smiled, acknowledging the crowd with a nod and a wave of her hand. When the noise finally died down, the king resumed speaking.
“I am forever grateful for the bravery of this woman, and also to the men of Glynval, who were willing to sacrifice themselves for the good of England.”
More whoops and shouts went up.
“Lord Ranulf le Wyse and his son Westley risked much to come here and fight for me, and so . . . for his bravery, I shall create a new earldom to replace the Earldom of Shiveley, which upon his execution shall cease to exist, and Westley le Wyse shall henceforth be . . . the Earl of Glynval.”
Loud cheers erupted. Westley’s heart leapt inside him at the thought of being the Earl of Glynval. But was that all the king intended to give him? A title?
Westley stood and bowed to the king. “Thank you, Your Majesty. That is very generous.”
“And because you, along with your father, not only successfully thwarted the evil intentions of my closest advisor and since you obviously have found favor with my fair cousin, I grant you the right . . . to marry the brave and insightful Evangeline.”
Westley could not stop the smile from stretching across his face. “I thank you, my king. I most gladly will marry Evangeline, if she is willing.” He turned to her and held out his hand, then knelt. “Do you accept me?”
“Of course. Yes!” Evangeline’s red hair formed a halo around her face. She gave him her hand.
He got up, bent, and kissed her briefly on the lips. The entire room cheered and roared.
The king lifted his goblet. “I wish you joy, long life, and many children.”
Everyone drank to them and shouted out their goodwill wishes, and Evangeline’s cheeks shone a pretty pink.
Evangeline stood beside Westley as they were wed quietly in the Berkhamsted Castle chapel. Muriel and Frederick, whom King Richard had promoted to the position of steward of Berkhamsted Castle, stood nearby as the priest blessed Evangeline and Westley’s union.
After a few days in Berkhamsted, they traveled back to Glynval. At the next Glynval hallmote, held in the manor courtyard, a jury of twelve sworn men were appointed to collect and present evidence relating to the incident at the Harvest Festival. They found John Underhill and his men guilty of seizing Evangeline and carrying her away and locking her in the dairy, as several witnesses swore an oath corroborating Evangeline’s story, having seen John Underhill’s men carrying a sack just the size and shape to be the maiden. They also found John and his men guilty of seizing and assailing Westley le Wyse, of inflicting a small stab wound in his side, and of threatening to kill him in very specific terms.
The jury fined John forty shillings, and his men six shillings each because they were poor, and they all were ordered to stay in their own village of Caversdown and never to set foot in Glynval again.
“I don’t think John will object to such a light punishment,” Evangeline said when the hallmote was over and they were having dinner with Westley’s family.
“You should have seen his face,” Westley said, “when he found out you were the king’s ward and I had been made an earl.”
Evangeline laughed.
“And Sabina has accepted an offer of marriage from someone in another village and she has already left her father’s house.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” Lady le Wyse said. “Sabina’s mother came and told me herself, and apologized if her daughter had done anything to upset Evangeline.” Lady le Wyse raised her brows in a knowing way.
Evangeline nearly said something ungracious, but she squeezed Westley’s hand under the table instead. She was too full of joy to wish anyone ill, even Sabina.
“Mother, tell her,” Cate said suddenly with a wide smile.
“Tell me what?” Evangeline asked.
Lady le Wyse wiped her lips with her cloth napkin and laid it in her lap. “We insist on you two having a wedding at the Glynval Church, where the villagers can be present for their young lord and lady’s wedding.”
Evangeline’s heart leapt at the thought. “Can it be just like a peasant’s wedding?”
“A peasant’s wedding?” Cate said.
“The same sort of festivities, with flowers and food for everyone?”
“Of course,” Lady le Wyse said, chuckling. “Just as you wish.”
Th
e day dawned bright and clear, and the cool smell of autumn was in the air. The people all followed them in eager procession to the church door, where the priest had them repeat their vows.
When the priest’s blessing was done, the people followed them back to the courtyard, waving brightly colored ribbons and small boughs covered with flowers. They also brought cakes they had baked as gifts to add to the great feast the servants had prepared.
The festivities included music and dancing. In between songs, the people all insisted on hearing more stories about how their lord and his men had saved the king of England from the evil Earl of Shiveley, liberating Evangeline, the king’s ward, from his tyranny, and then how King Richard had bestowed upon Westley the title of Earl of Glynval.
Westley kissed his bride as everyone around them was smiling, singing, eating, and drinking.
“I am so glad you came to Glynval, Evangeline of Berkhamsted Castle.”
“I am also glad I came to Glynval, Westley le Wyse.”
“Don’t you mean, my lord, Earl of Glynval?”
She laughed and kissed him, aware that Lord and Lady le Wyse were looking on, as well as many others. Evangeline only hoped that the rest of them could be as full of joy as she was, could escape whatever evil fate the devil had planned for them, and could feel as grateful to God as she did for lifting her out of loneliness and pain and bringing her into the lovely life He had planned for her all along.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to my editor, Becky Monds, who is amazing in her insights into my stories and the ways to improve them, along with all the other things she does to bless my publishing experience. You’re the best!
Also many thanks to Julee Schwarzburg, a wonderful line editor who goes above and beyond her duties. I feel so blessed to have you and Becky on my side!
My agent, Natasha Kern, is a powerhouse of knowledge, tact, and friendship. She is an award-winning agent with an award-winning attitude and capabilities. Thanks for all you do, Natasha! God is blessing you.
I want to thank Jenny Sherwood, chairman of the Berkhamsted Local History and Museum Society, for helping me with my research on Berkhamsted Castle. It is one of the oldest motte-and-bailey castles in England, which disappeared, for the most part, from the landscape but will never be forgotten thanks to historians like Mrs. Sherwood. Thank you for your helpfulness and for sharing your knowledge with me.
I want to thank Kathy Bone, Mary Freeman, and Terry Bell for their brainstorming help, as well as Joe, Grace, and Faith Dickerson for listening and helping when I’m in the throes of plotting a story.
I am extremely grateful to God for giving me this wonderful task to do, which I love so much, and for you wonderful readers out there. Thanks for supporting and encouraging me! You are very much loved. I hope you enjoyed my Little Mermaid–inspired story.
Discussion Questions
Why did Evangeline wish she was a peasant instead of the ward of a king? Would you have felt the same way? Why or why not?
When Evangeline wanted to disguise herself and hide from Lord Shiveley, she pretended to be mute, since her voice was a big part of her identity. What kind of disguise would you use if you were trying to hide your identity?
When Evangeline encountered the poor woman at the market who was begging for food, she gave her money and some of her bread rolls. Muriel scolded Evangeline and said the woman would probably lose the money. Do you think Evangeline did the right thing? Why or why not?
When Evangeline tried to work as a servant, she found she wasn’t very good at some of her duties, but she still managed to make friends. What things did she do well? What things did she do badly?
Evangeline struggled with understanding the story of Ruth. Are there passages in the Bible that puzzle you? What do you do when you don’t understand something? How do you express or deal with confusion or doubt? Is it possible to understand everything in the Bible? Why or why not?
Evangeline feared that no one could love her if they thought she was selfish. Have you ever feared people couldn’t love you if they discovered something about you or something you have done? Have you ever tried to hide a part of yourself from others?
Evangeline wondered how she could get absolved from the sin of deceiving Westley into thinking she was mute. Have you ever struggled with guilt over something you’ve done? How did you, or how can you, overcome your guilt?
Why did Evangeline carve “Absolve me” and three crosses into the wall of the church? What do you do when you want to get God’s attention?
Evangeline felt peace when she realized she didn’t need a husband or a friend to take care of her; she only needed God. What thought gives you peace?
Westley was very upset with Evangeline for defying his order for her to stay in Glynval. Do you think he was right to ask her to stay behind? Did you understand why she did not stay behind? What would you have done?
Evangeline and Westley were both willing to sacrifice themselves for each other. How do husbands, wives, family members, or friends make sacrifices for each other in today’s world?
In this story, what parallels or similarities did you see to “The Little Mermaid” fairy tale?
How did you feel about seeing familiar characters again from The Merchant’s Daughter? Did their lives end up the way you imagined they would? In what ways?
AN EXCERPT FROM THE GOLDEN BRAID
Chapter One
Late winter, 1413, the village of Ottelfelt,
Southwest of Hagenheim, the Holy Roman Empire
“Rapunzel, I wish to marry you.”
At that moment, Mother revealed herself from behind the well in the center of the village, her lips pressed tightly together.
The look Mother fixed on Wendel Gotekens was the one that always made Rapunzel’s stomach churn.
Rapunzel shuffled backward on the rutted dirt road. “I am afraid I cannot marry you.”
“Why not?” He leaned toward her, his wavy hair unusually tame and looking suspiciously like he rubbed it with grease. “I have as much land as the other villagers. I even have two goats and five chickens. Not many people in Ottelfelt have both goats and chickens.”
She silently repeated the words an old woman had once told her. The truth is kinder than a lie.
“I do not wish to marry you, Wendel.” She had once seen him unleash his ill temper on one of his goats when it ran away from him. That alone would have been enough to make her lose interest in him, if she had ever felt any.
He opened his mouth as if to protest further, but he became aware of Mother’s presence and turned toward her.
“Frau Gothel, I—”
“I shall speak to you in a moment.” Her mother’s voice was icy. “Rapunzel, go home.”
Rapunzel hesitated, but the look in Mother’s eyes was so fierce, she turned and hurried down the dirt path toward their little house on the edge of the woods.
Aside from asking her to marry him, Wendel’s biggest blunder had been letting Mother overhear him.
Rapunzel made it to their little wattle-and-daub structure and sat down, placing her head in her hands, muffling her voice. “Father God, please don’t let Mother’s sharp tongue flay Wendel too brutally.”
Mother came through the door only a minute or two later. She looked around their one-room home, then began mumbling under her breath.
“There is nothing to be upset about, Mother,” Rapunzel said. “I will not marry him, and I told him I wouldn’t.”
Her mother had that frantic look in her eyes and didn’t seem to be listening. Unpleasant things often happened when Mother got that look. But she simply snatched her broom and went about sweeping the room, muttering unintelligibly.
Rapunzel was the oldest unmarried maiden she knew, except for the poor half-witted girl in the village where they’d lived several years ago. That poor girl drooled and could barely speak a dozen words. The girl’s mother had insisted her daughter was a fairy changeling and would someday be an angel who would com
e back to earth to punish anyone who mistreated her.
Mother suddenly put down her broom. “Tomorrow is a market day in Keiterhafen. Perhaps I can sell some healing herbs.” She began searching through her dried herbs on the shelf attached to the wall. “If I take this feverfew and yarrow root to sell, I won’t have any left over,” she mumbled.
“If you let me stay home, I can gather more for you.”
Her mother stopped what she was doing and stared at her. “Are you sure you will be safe without me? That Wendel Gotekens—”
“Of course, Mother. I have my knife.”
“Very well.”
The next morning Mother left before the sun was up to make the two-hour walk to Keiterhafen. Rapunzel arose a bit later and went to pick some feverfew and yarrow root in the forest around their little village of Ottelfelt. After several hours of gathering and exploring the small stream in the woods, she had filled two leather bags, which she hung from the belt around her waist. This should put Mother in a better mood.
Just as Rapunzel reentered the village on her way back home, three boys were standing beside the lord’s stable.
“Rapunzel! Come over here!”
The boys were all a few years younger than she was.
“What do you want?” Rapunzel yelled back.
“Show us that knife trick again.”
“It’s not a trick.” She started toward them. “It is a skill, and you will never learn it if you do not practice.”
Rapunzel pulled her knife out of her kirtle pocket as she reached them. The boys stood back as she took her stance, lifted the knife, and threw it at the wooden building. The knife point struck the wood and held fast, the handle sticking out perfectly horizontal.
One boy gasped while another whistled.
“Practice, boys.”
Rapunzel yanked her knife out of the wall and continued down the dusty path. She had learned the skill of knife throwing in one of the villages where she and Mother had lived.