Page 56 of The Silent Songbird

Evangeline did not lower her arrow even an inch but kept it trained on the man’s chest. “I advise you not to come any closer.”

John halted again.

“Westley, do you allow your servants to threaten your friends? I do believe this little firebrand would do me bodily harm.”

“Do you know what she’s talking about? Why does she say you attacked me, John?”

“How would I know that?” John’s voice rose in pitch and volume as he flung his arms out. “She is addled, or drinking some kind of strong ale. I heard you fell in the river and hit your head, but I don’t know what kind of satanic dreams this little servant girl has been having.”

The man was obviously trying to insult her, for as tall as she was, no one had ever called her a “little” anything.

Westley glanced from her to John Underhill.

“Is anything amiss, sir?” One of the stable boys approached them.

“Go fetch Sabina, the miller’s daughter,” Westley said.

“Yes, sir.” The young man turned and ran.

“Do you not trust me, Westley? Can this be?” John’s face was a mixture of amusement and anger. “Who is this little annoyance? This . . . girl?”

“I am neither little nor a girl,” Evangeline said, her voice as icy as her blood was boiling. “And you are the man I saw strike Westley le Wyse in the head and push him in the river. If I had not been there, he would have drowned.”

The man studied her, his eyes so cold he surely would have frozen her heart if he could have. But the fact that he was pretending to be Westley’s friend, bold enough to lie to his face after trying to kill him . . . He must have heard that Westley could not remember what happened.

Instead of feeling afraid, strength coursed through her. Nothing would keep her from at least wounding the man should he make an aggressive move toward either her or Westley.

Westley said nothing. John Underhill crossed his arms over his chest.

Finally, someone was approaching from the direction of the castle.

“Sabina,” Westley said in an expressionless voice, “is this the man you saw running away when I fell into the river?”

Sabina shook her head emphatically. “No, of course not. This is John Underhill. Why would he want to harm you? The two men I saw running away from where you fell in had, um, black hair and red hair. Neither one of them could have been John Underhill.” She smiled openmouthed, as if the idea were ridiculous.

Evangeline’s stomach roiled, but she gripped the bow and arrow even tighter, the bow and string digging into her fingers.

“Eva was not even there when you fell in the water.” Sabina made a derisive sound with her lips.

“It is Sabina who was not there. She only said she saw two men running away because I told her there were two men.”

“Westley,” John said, “if you are just going to stand there and let her accuse me of trying to kill you, pointing an arrow at me, then I’m leaving. I did not know our friendship meant so little to you.”

John Underhill turned to leave. Westley opened his mouth to speak but ultimately said nothing.

Sabina smiled slowly as she stared at Westley, her eyes trained on him even as she started walking back the way she had come.

Evangeline lowered her bow and arrow and let the string go slack.

“I . . . I don’t know what to think anymore,” Westley said softly, “but John has been my friend for a very long time.” He rubbed histemple, near where John had struck him, and closed his eyes. “I just don’t remember what happened. I wish I did, but I don’t.”

“Perhaps your memory will come back to you.”

“Perhaps.” Westley let out a heavy sigh. “Either way, I think you should not go anywhere alone.”

“Me? You are the one he wants to harm.”

“Perhaps you only saw someone who looked like John. I stopped a man from beating his wife a day or two before I fell in the river. Perhaps he was the one who struck me. He had the same blond hair as John, now that I think of it. But either way, you should not tell anyone what you saw. If someone is trying to harm me, they should not hear that there was a witness to their actions.”