Page 40 of The Silent Songbird

Evangeline sighed. “I suppose that is not very good reasoning, is it?”

“Perhaps it is not for mortal man to reason out such things.”

“I’m sure Sabina is praying she will be the one to marry Westley. But hopefully Westley is praying he doesn’t marry someone unkind.” Evangeline picked the tiny wildflowers on the ground around her. “I don’t want tofightfor him. That sounds low and common. I do want to gain back his favor, though.”

“That won’t be easy. He was very disappointed to find that we had lied to him.”

Her stomach twisted.

“But that is also a good sign, a sign that he has some feelings for you. If he did not care, he would not have been so disappointed.”

“I hate to think of him feeling disappointed in me.”

She should never have deceived him, even if she did have a good reason.

That evening Westley wandered out into the garden behind his family’s home.

Would Evangeline come for their Bible reading now that her secret was discovered, now that he knew she had lied and deceived him?

He shouldn’t even allow her near his family’s Bible. If she came thinking he did not care that she had lied to him, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to control his temper.

He kept glancing behind him at the back of the house. Then he walked along the row of trees at the edge of the garden. He still had a clear view of the house.

He had talked to her like a friend, had helped her and been kind to her, had told her all about the worst time in his life, the Peasants’ Uprising, and all along she had been pretending she couldn’t speak. He even got the wax tablets just so she could communicate with him, and it had all been fake. She must have been laughing at him, at so easily making a fool of the lord’s son. So why was he looking for her, half disappointed not to see her there?

The sun had just sunk behind the trees, spreading its last fingers of light through the sky. Westley trudged back to the house.

“Good evening.”

Eva stood in the shadowy area near the back door. Her voice was smooth and feminine and more sophisticated than the village maidens of Glynval—and he hated himself for noticing.

“I wanted to say again that I’m sorry we deceived you about my being able to speak.”

At one time he would have praised God at hearing her speak. But now . . .

“I thought you were someone who could be trusted.” He tried to look her in the eye, to see if she was ashamed of her sin, but it was too dark to see her expression. “I am not accustomed to being deceived for no good reason.”

“Perhaps I did have a good reason.”

He snorted. “What reason?”

“I will tell you, but I beg you not to tell anyone else.”

He did not answer for a few moments. “Very well. What reason could you possibly have for pretending to be mute?”

“As I told you, I was trying to get away from someone. It was the only way I could think of to disguise myself.”

“Why?” The word exploded from him. “If you had told me you were in danger, I would have protected you.” He never shouted, and he hadn’t planned to shout at her, but the heat inside him forced its way out. “You did not have to make a fool of me, making me think you had been beaten until you lost your voice. I felt sorry for you.” His insides twisted and he rubbed a hand across his eyes, unable to even look at her.

His mind flashed back to a few years before, when he was going fishing with John Underhill. A young woman had approached them and asked to go fishing with them.

“My family is hungry,” the maiden said, “and needs me to catch some fish, for we have no other food and have not eaten for two days.”

John had laughed and told her, “Go away. Westley is too virtuous for you.”

“Why did you do that?” Westley asked. “Perhaps she really was hungry.”

John laughed again. “You are never suspicious of anyone, and you believe everything anyone tells you.”