Muriel sounded so simple, not like herself at all. Perhaps she truly was trying to help Evangeline escape.
“We can always use more workers in Glynval during harvest-time.” A look of suspicion crossed his face. He probably did not believe that their master had died. Muriel once told her that many poor villeins claimed to be free, when they were actually legally bound to the land and to their lords and were running away unlawfully from their villages. Since the uprising three years earlier, everyone was even more suspicious of strangers.
“You are welcome to travel with us. You have nothing to fear in our company.”
What would she have felt if Richard had asked her to marry this handsome stranger, with his kind face and friendly voice? If Lord Shiveley had looked and behaved like this man, she might not be risking her life to find whatever freedom she could.
“I am Westley le Wyse of Glynval, and these men are Roger, Robert, Piers, and Aldred.”
“I am Mildred, and this maiden is Eva. She is mute.”
“Mute?” Westley raised his brows.
“Yes, her . . . master’s wife beat her and injured her throat, and she has not been able to speak since.”
She felt a stab in her middle at the outrageous lies Muriel was telling—lies Evangeline had forced her to tell.
Westley le Wyse’s mouth went slack with such a look of compassion, she felt another stab. Compared to the Earl of Shiveley, he had such young, perfect, masculine features. Perhaps she was already falling in love, that contemptible emotion King Richard had spoken of as something only peasants felt before marriage.
They continued on, the rocks on the road cutting into Evangeline’s feet. The thin, calfskin indoor slippers would soon wear out, so she needed to change into her sturdier servant’s shoes as soon as possible.
Westley said, “I suppose the head house servant asked you to leave, due to the king and all his guests being in the castle.”
“Oh yes,” Muriel said. “We are not fancy enough and might get in the king’s way.”
“She told us it was his guards who wanted anyone not of the king’s party or of the household servants to leave the castle for the sake of the king’s safety.”
“Oh yes, that too.” Muriel gave Evangeline a quick cringing smile.
The darkness surrounded them like a thick fog, and the moon was a sliver in a sky of tiny stars. The sound of the cart wheels covered the sound of their footsteps so that any number of bandits could have been lurking along the road. Yet Evangeline felt safe in the company of the strange men.
She sighed as she walked along. Her feet hurt from the rocky, uneven road, but she was free from King Richard and Lord Shiveley and their oppressive expectation that she would be wedding that man in several hours.
Muriel scowled. Did she think Evangeline was selfish to leave the castle like this, to put them through this hardship? She should have tried harder to convince Muriel not to come with her. Please, God, don’t let her think I’m selfish.
After an hour or so, Westley said, “We shall stop here for the night.”
Evangeline and Muriel hung back and watched as the men guided the donkey and cart off the road. There was nothing here except grass and a few trees, no inn or structure of any kind, and it suddenly struck Evangeline—they would be sleeping on the ground.
The men went into the woods two or three at a time, no doubt to relieve themselves. Muriel and Evangeline went in the opposite direction to do the same behind some thick bushes.
“I cannot believe we are here, defying the king like this, traveling with these strange peasants,” Muriel muttered. “I’ve never slept on the ground in my life.”
“It is an adventure, Muriel,” Evangeline whispered back. “And you can return to Berkhamsted Castle anytime you wish.”
“And what do you think they will do when they realize you lied to them and you are not mute at all? They’ll be furious. They will cast you out of their midst.”
Evangeline shook her head. They would not be that angry, surely. Perhaps she would tell them she had been miraculously healed. But that lie seemed worse than one that did not include God.
They went back to where the men were spreading blankets on the ground.
Evangeline sat down several feet away on the grass. She pulled off her thin slippers and shook out the dirt and small rocks from her shoes. Muriel did the same while she huffed her displeasure.
Evangeline lay down on the soft, cool grass, hugging her bag to her chest. Muriel stretched out beside her. “I am dirty and tired and I do not have proper shoes for this kind of walking. I have no way of washing even my face, as we have no water.”
“If we ask,” Evangeline dared to whisper back, “the men will probably let us share their water.”
Muriel huffed again. “I’m too tired tonight. I will ask them in the morning. Are you not sorry yet for what you have done?”
“No.”
“Sleeping outside on the ground is not something any lady should be doing. How will either of us get a moment of sleep?”
Evangeline did not answer. Muriel was always prone to complaints. Evangeline would send her back to Berkhamsted as soon as she was settled into a new life. Then Muriel could not complain—and Evangeline would not feel guilty about her not being pleased.
She herself felt quite content on the soft grass, staring up at the peaceful stars. She could imagine God winking down at her. Was God thinking, My beloved child Evangeline has escaped from Berkhamsted Castle? She imagined God as the father she had never known, a perfect Father. He was proud of her for not staying and marrying someone she could never love. It was also possible that God was angry with her for not doing as her king had directed her. But she preferred not to believe that.
She closed her eyes, stretching her arms above her head, then pillowed her cheek on her hands. She was free of Berkhamsted Castle and free of her own identity.
The day that had begun as the worst of her life had ended as the best.
Evangeline awoke to a soft light all around her and blue sky above her. She turned her head and saw flattened grass beside her.
It was not a dream. She truly had run away and escaped from the castle, King Richard, Lord Shiveley, and her own wedding. And she had slept all night on the ground.
A smile broke out on her face as she opened her arms up to the sky, barely stifling the giddy laugh that bubbled up inside her.
Evangeline finally sat up and looked around. The men were packing up to leave, and Muriel stood over her.
“Get up. We must go. Though how you could sleep all night and still be sleeping at dawn . . . The ground was so hard I barely slept at all.”
Evangeline dug through her bag and pulled out her sturdy shoes. As she put them on, she took a deep breath through her nose. Even the air smelled better away from the castle. All around her was fresh and clean and green with life. Birds sang into the stillness like minstrels with no thought for their audience, singing for their own joy.
Westley, the apparent leader of their little group, approached her with that compassionate look on his face. The sun was rising behind him and illuminating his head like the halos surrounding the saints on the chapel windows at the cathedral she’d visited once as a child. His eyes were the same blue as the sky. His chin was slightly square—a chiseled continuation of his masculine jawline. His slightly parted lips gave him a vulnerable expression.
“Mildred told me you did not have a container for water. I have an extra flask.” He held it out to her.
Evangeline opened her mouth to thank him, but her chest emptied itself of air.
She had almost forgotten—I am supposed to be mute!
She thought she must seem addled as she gazed up at him, so she changed her expression to a sheepish smile.
“I filled it up for you.”
She nodded, enjoying the view of him, his brown hair lying in a perfect tousle across his forehead, framing his matching brown brows and thick lashes.
“May I help you up?” His l
arge hand reached down to her.
The touch of his hand sent a sensation through her fingers and up her arm, and she let him pull her to her feet.
He was a bit taller than she was, and he was staring into her eyes. Did he think she was pretty? Even though she was wearing a plain servant’s dress and her hair was hanging down her back, having not been brushed since the day before. But the way he was looking at her . . .
“I did not realize you and your friend did not have a blanket last night. I would have given you one of ours.”
He did not expect her to answer him, of course, so she shrugged and kept smiling.
“As soon as you are ready, we will be on our way.”
Evangeline bent and picked up her bag. She was ready. Ready to follow him wherever he was going on this beautiful, perfect morning.
Chapter Four
Westley could not help looking at the red-haired beauty every time she came within his view. Her hair was a color that caught the rays of the sun and absorbed them, glowing and triumphant. Her skin was pale and yet vibrant and healthy, with only a sprinkling of freckles across her upper cheeks and nose.
She looked as if she might open her mouth and speak to him at any moment, but then he would remember what her friend had said.
His heart clenched every time he thought about her being hurt so cruelly by her mistress. No one deserved that, and certainly not this gentle, sweet maiden with the loveliest green eyes he’d ever seen. When he’d seen her red hair, he wondered for a moment if she was the woman in the window of the castle, whose heavenly singing voice was burned into his mind. But she was mute, so she couldn’t be the same woman.
They walked along the road, picking up another small group of travelers who asked to accompany them. But he made sure to keep watch over Eva and Mildred.
Eva’s eyes were wide and alert as she seemed to take in everything with childlike wonder, while Mildred wore a constant frown and grumbled under her breath.
They were passing a fast-moving stream only a few feet from the road. The bank was steep, and they could hear the rushing of the water as they traversed along the top of the bank.
Mildred suddenly sputtered, “E-E-Eva! You are too close to the edge.”
Eva glanced back. Westley’s heart stopped for a moment at her look of delight. She took one small step back, but she kept staring down at the water as if she’d never seen a river before.
Mildred marched to her friend and grabbed her by the arm, then returned Eva to the road to walk with the group.
A few minutes later, Eva was standing in front of a bush, staring down at it. She turned her head and motioned frantically to Mildred, who hurried over.
“It’s only a butterfly,” Mildred said.
Eva continued to watch it until it flew away. Her gaze followed its fluttering until it floated too far off the road to see.
Mildred smiled apologetically. “She was not allowed out of the house very much by her master and mistress.”
Perhaps the abuse of her past had addled her mind. But then again, if she had never been able to see these things that he had seen so many times before, her behavior was reasonable.
When they stopped to rest and eat some food, he glanced at Mildred and Eva. They were sitting close together, but they were not eating. And the only reason they would not be eating was if they had no food.
He and his men had plenty of bread and hard-boiled eggs, some nuts and dried fruit, since they had stocked up before leaving the castle. So he went to the cart and retrieved a provision bag and brought it to them.
Mildred’s cheeks colored. “We can pay you for it.” She motioned to her young companion, who seemed to realize what she was saying and grabbed their bag, rummaging through it.
Westley shook his head. “I do not need to be paid. Here, take the food.”
“No, no, we wish to pay. At the next village we can buy food.”
Eva held out a handful of coins. Where did two peasant women get so much money?
Mildred grabbed her hand, closed Eva’s fingers into a fist, and gave her a scolding look. Then she discreetly took one of the coins and thrust it at Westley.
He took it, sensing her pride would be hurt if he did not. He only hoped no one from the small group that had joined them had seen how much money was in Eva’s hand. He did not want her to come to harm, especially while she was under his protection. Several ideas came to mind about where they might have gotten those coins, but none of them were lawful.
But he did not like thinking ill of them. Mildred was dressed quite well, so perhaps she had come about the money honestly. He did not want to judge them guilty, but at the same time, the situation was highly suspicious.
Soon they came to a market town, and his men wished to look over the goods being sold.
“We shall all meet again in one hour,” Westley told them, “back at the town gate.”
They agreed and went their way toward the marketplace. Not wishing to buy anything himself, Westley followed Mildred and Eva far enough behind that they might not notice him.
They went toward the booths selling clothing and shoes. Eva took out her small purse and bought a pair of sturdier shoes for Mildred, which she needed since they’d be walking for another day and a half. She also bought some more clothes. For herself, she bought a dress and a brightly colored scarf, which she wrapped around her neck instead of around her hair.
Westley couldn’t help noticing how often men turned their heads to stare at Eva. A bald, middle-aged man leered at her, showing a couple of missing teeth. He called out to her.
“Hey there, with the red hair!” He added a lewd comment, suggesting she go home with him.
His hands clenching into fists, Westley stepped toward the man.
Evangeline’s stomach twisted at the sickening words this stranger said about her. Muriel pushed Evangeline behind her and planted her feet wide as she faced the man.
Westley stepped in front of him. “You will not trouble this young maiden. She is with me and my men.”
The bald man eyed Westley, who was much taller and broader in the shoulders. He held up his hands. “No one is troubling her.”
Evangeline’s heart fluttered, a pleasant sensation at Westley’s willingness to come to her aid. Holding on to Muriel’s arm, she sighed.
Muriel narrowed her eyes at her. Doubtless she would have something to say about Evangeline sighing over the peasant Westley. But such a noble peasant.
The bald man pivoted and walked away, holding his shoulders back as though trying to add to his height.
Westley’s scowl changed into a concerned crease in his forehead as his eyes locked on hers. She sighed again.
Muriel nodded to Westley. “We thank you for your intervention.”
“Verily, it was my pleasure.”
Without saying anything further, Muriel walked in the opposite direction. Evangeline followed her but turned and looked over her shoulder. Westley was staring intently at her. She smiled, hoping he could see how thankful she was.
Later when they were buying some bread and other provisions, Evangeline glanced over her shoulder to see Westley several feet behind them. As she suspected, he was trailing them around the market. She would have to be careful not to even whisper to Muriel and give away her secret.
Pointing at whatever she wanted, nodding for yes, and shaking her head for no worked quite well at the market. But at a bread stall, while Muriel was buying some cheese nearby, Evangeline held up four fingers and pointed at the small oat buns in a large basket.
The woman seller told her companion, “I’ve been watching her. She’s deaf and dumb. She won’t know if you ask for double the price.”
Evangeline raised her brows at the woman. She pointed at her throat and shook her head, then pointed to her ear and nodded.
The woman’s mouth fell open. Her companion laughed uproariously.
“Not only will we not charge her double, Nan, but we shall give her an extra bun. Here.” The
man handed her five of the small oat buns.
Evangeline smiled and paid him. The woman pursed her lips and Evangeline walked away.
Everything at the market was interesting. There were all kinds of animals for sale, both live and dressed to cook. People were shouting, trying to bring attention to their booths and the goods they were selling. Bright colors and every kind of dress, face, and figure drew Evangeline’s eye. The only thing she did not like was the way some of the men stared at her. But Westley was watching out for her, so she felt reasonably safe. Besides, Muriel was quite formidable when she was angry, and any molester would have to go through her.
They bought a wool blanket before making their way back to the town gate to meet the rest of the group. She glanced over her shoulder again. Westley was still there.
Someone tugged at Evangeline’s skirt. She shifted and found a young woman sitting on the ground, holding a tiny baby in the crook of her arm.
“Please, miss, can you spare some food for me so I can feed my baby?”
Evangeline’s stomach clenched at the sunken cheeks of the emaciated woman who looked no older than herself. Though she had no experience with babies, the baby did not seem well. It lay still, its eyes closed and its lips dry.
“Where is your master?” Muriel asked, staring down at her.
“I have no master.”
“Have you run away?”
“No. My . . . my mistress cast me off.” The poor young woman’s eyes filled with tears. “The baby is her husband’s and she sent me away, me and my baby.” A tear dripped from her eye.
Evangeline was already digging in her bag for the coin purse. She pulled out several coins and put them in the woman’s bony hand. She also gave her three of the buns she had just bought.
More tears ran down her thin cheeks. “Thank you. May God bless you for your mercy.” She dropped the buns in her lap and tucked the coins into a tiny bag that hung from her belt. Her hand shook as she brought a bun to her mouth and took a bite.
Tears welled in Evangeline’s own eyes as she nodded and walked away.
“This is what I warned you about,” Muriel whispered in Evangeline’s ear, holding on to her arm. “You should not have given her so much money. She will lose it, or someone will take it from her.”