The Secret Life of Lady Evangeline

by Jan Davis Warren

  “Who has Angus?” Evangeline patted Anna’s hand.

  “The earl. Him what stole my baby.” Anna’s voice rose.

  “The earl took your child, but why?”

  “I be staying at the abbey to take care of the goats and the garden while the kind sister be away.” She took a deep breath and wiped her tears with her sleeve. “He burst inside at sunrise. Pale as milk and wild-eyes as if the hounds of hades was chasin’ him.”

  “Go on.” Evangeline feared for the child’s safety each minute of delay.

  “I hid and watched as he searched for food and drank the goat milk I had strained last night.” The girl’s tear-filled eyes met Evangeline’s. “Angus awoke and cried.” Anna raised her face, pride lit her eyes. “He knowed that something was wrong. My son be very smart, like the sister said.”

  Seeing Evangeline’s impatience she hurried on. “He reached Angus ’fore me and picked him up. Angus blared out a hardy protest, but the earl just laughed. I come out of hiding and tells him to put my baby down, but he lifts him high and waves my babe around like a prize pig and says. ‘this is my ticket to freedom.’ He grabbed my arm and demands I help him escape.” Anna fidgeted from one foot to the other and wrung her hands. “I pretended to want to help him, but he wouldn’t give Angus to me. Just told me to hurry. I gathered cheese and bread into a bag.” Tears again filled her eyes. “I offered him the food as trade for my son.” Her lips tightened with anger. “He grabbed me arm and said I would have to go with him if I wanted Angus to live.” She drew a ragged breath. “He looked at me like the time he…”

  She paled as the horror of that encounter flashed across her features. “He led the way jabbering about getting his money. By his crazy talk, I feared he would kill us once he got where he was going. When he released me arm, I ran to the keep for help.” Panic edged the rest of her words into an indiscernible rush again. She captured Evangeline’s hand and tugged her toward the gate. “Please, I knowed where he be headed. We have to save Angus.”

  “Then we must make haste.” Henry led two horses forward. Three of the king’s guards were already mounted. “You can ride with her ladyship and point the way.”

  Evangeline watched fear light Anna’s eyes, but she allowed herself be led to the animals. Evangeline sent a servant to convey her plans to her father and turned toward her mount. Henry handed Evangeline up into the saddle and then reached for Anna, who backed away.

  “I never rode afore.” Her eyes were wide with fright.

  “Anna, this is the fastest way to save Angus.” Evangeline reached her hand down and watched the conflict in the young girl’s eyes. A moment of hesitation, then she nodded and allowed Henry to lift her up to sit astride behind Evangeline. She clung to Evangeline’s waist.

  “Hang on tight.” Evangeline patted Anna’s arm and pressed her heel into the gray’s side, which sprung into an easy canter.

  Mounted, Henry and the three armed guards followed.

  Anna pointed them toward the old mill road that led to an old stone silo near the waterfalls. Overgrown but still visible, they galloped onward.

  “Where did you last see him?” Evangeline turned her head so Anna could hear her over the den of thundering hooves. The girl’s eyes were shut tight. She repeated her question but this time she patted the girl’s hand to get her attention.

  “Just afore the turn in the road.” Her voice a high squeak filled with fear.

  A loud wail rose from a tall patch of grass at the side of the road just ahead. A red-faced toddler stood screaming out his protest at being left alone. The group pulled their horses to a stop. Before Henry or a guard could reach them, Anna then Evangeline dismounted and rushed to the child.

  “Go. We’ll take care of the infant. Find Hemming before he slips away.” Evangeline put an arm around the young mother as she comforted her distraught child.

  Henry nodded and ordered a guard to stay behind and the rest of them rode off scanning the path and surroundings for any sign of Hemming.

  “The blackheart must have taken the bag of food I left and abandoned poor Angus after I ran off.” Anna fumed as she assessed her son for injuries, thankful at finding none.

  Wham!

  Evangeline whirled around and saw their guard slump to the ground, his face bleeding and his helmet smashed. Urso Hemming stood over the man with a bloody rock in his hand. He threw it down, grabbed the guard’s sword, and pointed it at Anna and the child.

  Evangeline released the dagger from the cross and edged closer to Hemming.

  “I knew the wench would bring someone with a horse if I bided my time.” He waved the sword at Evangeline. “Stand back.” He pointed it at Evangeline and she stopped. “You will lead us to a place where I can wait until nightfall for my escape from this wretched kingdom.” He picked up a heavy bag from the ground where he had hidden it.

  “You will not escape.” Evangeline’s grip tightened on the dagger.

  “I have my money and some hostages to guarantee my freedom.” His gaze narrowed as if he could read Evangeline’s intent. He wrenched the screaming child from Anna’s arms. “Back away, wench, or I’ll cut the brat.”

  Anna screamed and Hemming shoved her to her knees.

  Evangeline helped her stand. If she could get close enough she could end this.

  “Shut up! If you want to keep on living, you’ll cease your caterwauling.” He pulled the bag’s strap over his head and settled it across his chest to keep his hands free then tucked the toddler under his arm. Holding Angus against his side horizontally so that the babe’s arms flailed and his legs dangled without support, he reached for the reins of the guard’s horse.

  Anna kept stepping between Evangeline and Hemming making it impossible for her to throw the dagger for risk of hitting either the child or his mother.

  “You can walk, your Ladyship.” He waved Anna to the other horse. “Get up there.” He pointed the sword first at Evangeline then Anna. “If you try anything I will kill you all, starting with the brat.”

  At Anna’s expression of horror, he laughed, but his eyes narrowed with intent.

  “No!” Anna backed away from the animal. Angus’ tears and cries grew loud and demanding.

  “Shut up you little brat.” Hemming shook the child.

  The heat of anger burned with a silent promise of revenge, Evangeline stepped forward ready to strike.

  A crash of brush being trampled erupted beside them.

  A big man wearing the mask of the Fox burst through and grabbed the child from the surprised Hemming’s grasp. The babe was shoved into the arms of his mother before the Fox struck Hemming to the ground.

  The Fox stood over the fake earl. There was something familiar about the stance.

  “I’ll take care of this vermin. You ladies must go.” He crushed Hemming’s wrist with his boot and picked up the sword loosed from his grasp.

  “Griswold.” The name slipped out before she could stop it.

  “Nay, my Lady. I am the Fox, the righter of wrongs.” He grabbed Hemming and jerked him to his feet. The hand he used was missing two fingers. “Dispatching evil and doing good ’tis pleasing to the Lord, is it not?”

  Three hooded men in forest green tunics slipped out of the brush, confiscated the bag from the protesting Hemming and hauled him into the woods.

  “You have been tried and found guilty by every maiden that you soiled, every family you robbed, and every victim you murdered.” Griswold’s voice could be heard loud and clear as they dragged their prisoner out of sight.

  Hemming’s screams of outrage echoed through the woods then suddenly stopped. The knowledge of what that could mean left both relief and concern.

  “Please, yur Ladyship. You heard the Fox. We must go.” Anna tugged on Evangeline’s arm.

  “First, I must tend to the guard.” Evangeline knelt to assess the man’s injury. The blow had knocked him unconscious. After tearing a length from the hem of her dress, she dabbed it against the wound on his forehe
ad. He groaned. The wound had bled a lot, but he would live.

  At the sound of pounding hooves headed their way, she stood.

  “Quick. We must restrain the horses. Survival instinct will cause even a well-trained horse to flee if it hears other horses running for fear of being chased by predators.” Evangeline stood and captured the reins of the guard’s horse. Anna fisted the reins of the gray. The skittish horses pawed the ground.

  Appearing from around the bend, Henry and the two guards raced toward them.

  “We had not gone far when we heard the screams. What happened?” Henry dismounted as his gelding slid to a stop, reaching Evangeline in three strides. “Are you injured?” Fear hardened his tone. He touched her face and rubbed blood from her cheek. “I should not have left you.”

  “’Tis the guard’s blood, not mine.” She turned from Henry’s touch as the other two guards approached their comrade. “He will be fine, but we must get him back to the castle to tend his wound.”

  “The Fox saved us and captured the earl.” Anna’s voice rose in admiration and excitement.

  “The Fox?” Henry drew his sword and scanned their surroundings. “It might be prudent that we leave this place.” He assisted Evangeline to mount her horse then helped Anna up behind her. A guard held the child until the two women were settled, then handed the fussy toddler up to Anna, who tucked him between her and Evangeline.

  The men helped the injured guard onto his horse. The ride back to the castle would require a slower pace to accommodate the wounded man and the child.

  Anna explained her version of the kidnapping up to and including the Fox’s intervention.

  By the stiff posture and grim expression on Henry’s face as he listened, there would be much to discuss about the dangers of her riding out after outlaws.

  At the cross roads, Evangeline pulled her mount to a stop.

  “Take Anna and her son to the abbey and guard them.” Evangeline motioned to one of the guards to come near then took the baby so Anna could be helped down. “She and her child have had a very trying morning. No reason for her to travel all the way to the keep when the abbey is so much closer.” After Anna and the child were on the ground, Evangeline said, “I will come to visit you and Angus soon. Until then, please continue taking care of the abbey.”

  Henry helped the young mother to remount behind the guard and handed her the child.

  “I’ll be safe. No need to have a guard. My da and brothers are coming today to enlarge the paddock for the goats. They’ll protect us. I will pay them with milk, cheese, and vegetables from the garden. Do you think the Sister would approve?”

  “I am quite certain Sister Margaret Mary would be very pleased with your plans.”

  The remaining guard led the horse and the injured man as Henry and Evangeline rode toward the castle. They had not gone far when they came across an angry crowd of about twenty peasants standing in the road spewing curses and throwing rocks and sticks at something hanging from a tall sycamore tree a few paces from the road.

  As her group drew closer, Evangeline recognized the object of their hostility.

  Urso Hemming. His judgment had been swift, but the sight repulsed her.

  “The blackheart is quite dead. Get along with ye.” The guard waved his sword at the crowd. With grumbles of displeasure, the peasants dispersed into the woods and along the road in both directions, no doubt eager to spread the word of Hemming’s demise.

  “Stay here and guard the body until I can send a wagon back to bring him in for burial. I fear others will come who also have reason to stone the dead man. Not that the blighter doesn’t deserve it, but his body must remain recognizable to officially confirm his death by the regents and Lord Brighton and his servants.” Henry reached for the reins of the injured man’s horse. “I’ll take your friend on to the castle and see that he receives care.”

  They had to take it slow because of the injured guard. The time it took to travel the remaining distance to the castle was more than enough for the villagers and farmers to spread the news of Hemming’s capture and death. Land that had remained fallow because of the siege now had farmers inspecting and clearing the fields by picking up rocks that had come to the surface. Soon they would be plowing the ground to ready it for fall crops. Their grins and cheerful waves to Evangeline’s group confirmed an atmosphere of hope, as if a terrible storm had finally passed lifting the oppression from their land.

  Except for the occasional moan from the injured guard, Henry and Evangeline rode in silence.

  Her one attempt to engage Henry was met with a scowl and a clipped, “We will speak in private.”

  When they came in sight of the castle Evangeline breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I will ride ahead to have everything readied to receive our patient.” Without waiting for Henry’s agreement, Evangeline kicked her mount into a canter, and, when she was far enough away not to hear Henry’s protest, she pushed her mount faster and raced down the hill to the keep. The wind in her face was invigorating. Justifying her breakneck speed with her mission to prepare for the injured guard and eagerness to check on Sarah and her father was secondary to getting away from Henry’s dark mood.

  “Open the gates!” A sentry had spotted Evangeline and called to the guards. The gate was opened by the time she slowed her horse to cross the bridge covering the moat. A servant met her to assist her dismount, then took the winded horse to the stable.

  With a few clipped orders, she sent other servants to prepare a comfortable place to receive the injured man in the guard’s quarters. She would check on her father and Sarah and then assist Elsie in doctoring the guard.

  After tending to the guard, she was relieved that he would be fine with a little rest. With lighter steps, she proceeded to her quarters to clean up. She pondered the feeling of usefulness and contentment which seemed to relate more to her persona as Sister Margaret Mary than that of her role as the overly confident, pampered Lady Evangeline.

  Still, the prospect of facing the officials and curious gentry who would soon arrive, no doubt with their many questions, filled her with dread. Her slow but determined pace was reminiscent of her youth when she had to face up to one of her many transgressions. She would need God’s grace and mercy to get through it all.

  Evangeline headed toward her quarters to clean up and dress for dinner, her first official appearance at Castle Brighton as Lady Evangeline since her marriage over three years ago. The castle hummed with activity preparing for the celebration of her return and the end of the reign of terror for her father and the region.

  Using the servants’ stairs to avoid unnecessary contact, she made it to her room unhindered. She slipped through the door and closed it behind her with a sigh of relief.

  “You’re late.” Henry stood at the window, washed and handsomely dressed in a finely woven tunic. He turned to face her, arms crossed, expression stern.

  “I’m tired and in need of a bath.” Anger filled her tone at being addressed as if she were a tardy child. “You must go.” She stiffened and drew her tired frame to full height.

  A tentative knock came at the door.

  “Come in.” Evangeline was relieved at the interruption.

  The door opened, and two servants carried in a copper bathing tub and placed it before the fireplace then started a roaring fire. They left as an older woman came in.

  “Lord Stanton.” The older woman bobbed a curtsy before she turned to Evangeline. “We are all glad at yur return, m’Lady. If there is anything we can do—”

  “You can leave.” Henry’s curt demand drew instant contrition and the servant backed toward the door, her face aghast.

  “Henry!” Evangeline’s stern rebuke brought a frown to his face. She ignored the thundercloud brewing in his countenance and stepped between him and the servant. “Please, forgive his lordship’s bad manners and continue preparing my bath, Helga.” Evangeline barely restrained the offer to help the old servant, who now used a cane to aid her
in climbing the many castle stairs. Helga had been another faithful servant Evangeline had known since her youth. A flutter of guilt welled up within her at Helga’s joy in her return. After many months experiencing servitude as a nun and visits to the keep, Evangeline had gotten to know the castle servants as hard working people with their own hopes and dreams. They would never again be the invisible nobodies whose sole purpose was to fulfill her every whim.

  “Thank you, m’ lady. We won’t be but a minute.” The older woman flushed and returned to her duties directing the servants who waited beyond the doorway for their command to enter.

  “In with ye.” Helga clapped her hands and pointed the direction to the empty tub.

  Six more young women entered, each carrying a steaming bucket of water, which they emptied into the tub. A tall intricately carved screen was brought out from a closet and extended around the bath to keep in the heat and provide privacy.

  Evangeline and Henry stood silently as the servants completed their jobs. Evangeline’s handmaiden poured in rose scented oils that permeated the air.

  “Yur Lordships.” Helga gave them a stiff curtsy, accompanied with popping joints, then hustled the remaining young girls out of the room and closed the door.

  Henry ambled over and slid the door bolt in place with a loud and determined click.

  “Finally.” His voice was calm, but his stance, feet apart and his arms crossed, expressed his determination.

  “’Tis late. You need to leave. I must bathe and dress.” Her tone came out curt to cover the dread squeezing her insides. She had given Henry the basics of her disappearance while being sequestered in Captain Fritz’s cabin. His anger was stirred by what she didn’t tell him. They knew each other well enough to know when one or the other withheld something important.

  “We’ll leave the discussion about the danger and what could have happened today for another time.” He walked toward her. “I know you are reluctant to finish our discussion of your whereabouts these last eighteen months, but I refuse to wait any longer. I demand you tell me where you’ve been and why you were in hiding.”