Page 95 of The Silent Songbird

“I have a question.” Richard’s voice was even, betraying no emotion.

Shiveley glared at him, his face turning red.

“I would like to know what happened to your first wife, Lord Shiveley.”

“She died.”

“Indeed. And how did you say she died?”

Evangeline’s heart beat fast. What was the king doing? Would he save her?

Shiveley’s jaw hardened and twitched. “She fell down some stairs at our home.”

“I see. And how did my fair cousin get that swollen, bloody lip and the red mark on her face? Did she fall down some steps too?”

Air rushed into her lungs.

“I do not know what she did before she came to Berkhamsted.” Shiveley licked his thick lips. “She says she was in Glynval. She may have—”

“Evangeline?” The king cut him off. “What happened to your face?”

Shiveley pinched her arm.

“Ow! This mans truck me.”Evangeline stomped on Shiveley’s foot.

He grunted and loosened his hold on her arm just enough that she was able to snatch her arm away and run. Shiveley’s guard began to scramble to block the doorway leading out, but before she had gotten very far, one of the guards sidestepped in front of her and she ran into his broad chest. He seized her arms and held them behind her with one hand while holding her firmly to his side with the other.

The earl’s guards snatched their swords from their scabbards, the blades ringing in the small room.

“What is this?” Richard said, ice in his voice. “Will your guards draw their swords on the king’s ward?”

Shiveley stood straight and tall, but his pointy beard trembled. “Have you decided not to allow your ward to marry me? I have been loyal to you.”

“Why do you want to marry Evangeline so badly?”

“Why? Because . . . she is beautiful.” Shiveley seemed to be waiting for the king to say something, but when he didn’t, the earl continued. “She-she is . . . your ward. I want to care for her. Any man would want to marry her.”

“And I thought you fell in love with her sweetness and spirit and beautiful singing.”

“Yes, of course. All of those things as well.”

“Then why are your guards still holding their swords?”

“My men have been instructed to do whatever it takes to ensurethat your ward stays in this chapel until the priest has finished speaking the vows,” Lord Shiveley said from behind clenched teeth.

“You are prepared to defy your king, then? For I forbid your marriage to Evangeline.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she wanted to laugh in Shiveley’s face. If the king intervened, she would not have to hurt this guard, for she was already planning how to inflict pain on him to get away.

She glanced over her shoulder. The guard was wearing a hood and she couldn’t see his face.

“Why do you forbid it?” Lord Shiveley leaned forward menacingly.

“I do not wish it. I am the king. I do not need a reason.”

“And I say, she will be mine—and so shall the throne! Men, seize the king.” But before he could finish his command, shouts rang out behind them, near the entrance to the chapel.

The guard who was holding her suddenly grabbed her by the waist, threw her over his shoulder, and ran for the door.