Music for My Soul (17 page)

She painted a picture of the Romans as they came, conquering the simple folk and chasing the Druids far away, and Garrett found he couldn’t take his eyes from her.

He was startled when he heard her say, “And to this day, the Druids will dance beneath the pale moonlight . . . so beware!”

The crowd, enraptured by her story, erupted into thunderous applause at its conclusion. Someone passed her a mug, and she took a hearty swallow from it, wiping the foam from her lips with her sleeve. The people cheered again, and she moved from the center of their attention to the edges.

Garrett slowly made his way through those gathered and followed her on a parallel. She finally removed herself totally from the group and began crossing the meadow. He knew where she headed, a boulder at the far end of the pasture that edged the forest and overlooked the entire open meadow.

Sure enough, she went straight to the massive rock, climbing awkwardly up to its large, flat surface. He watched her lie down upon it and slip her hands beneath her head. He approached quietly, propping his elbow on the stone ledge.

“Stargazing?” he whispered.

Madeleine sat up hastily, surprise written across her face. “You startled me! I didn’t hear you come up.”

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, not waiting for her response, but easily hoisting himself up next to her. She moved away from the center. With a grin, he stretched his legs out as she had, cushioning his head with his hands, making sure to keep some space between them. “’Tis a beautiful night,” he said easily. “The stars are bright tonight.”

“Yes, they are,” she murmured stiffly, giving him a suspicious look.

“Madeleine?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“You may lie back down again. There’s plenty of room here for both of us. I promise I won’t push you off,” he said playfully. To try and reassure her, he shut his eyes and waited.

Garrett sensed her hesitation. With his eyes closed, he seemed more aware of her than before, her lavender scent invading his senses.

She waited, obviously undecided what to do. Then he heard the rustling and she eased back down on the rock. Not close to him, but he still felt the heat of her body.

He did his best not to move, though he could feel his heart ready to leap from his chest. He didn’t want her to feel threatened, but he so wanted to touch her, get to know everything about this wondrous woman who’d turned his world upside down.

His mind raced through the many women he’d seen over the years, but none of them held a candle to Madeleine. She had an inner spirit that shone through, enhancing the beauty on her surface. But how to find out who she really was and what secrets she still kept from him?

Madeleine’s heart pounded fiercely as she stared straight ahead. She felt very awkward and self-conscious being so near him. She realized she held her breath, so she expelled it quietly. Garrett said nothing, and his eyes were still closed. She tried to relax, putting her hands under her head for support.

Why was he here
?

And yet she knew. She’d known it was but a matter of time before they found themselves alone. She just hadn’t pictured it in this way.

She stole a glance at him, starting from the feet up. His muscular legs vanished under his rich, black tunic. He wore black often but the dark color suited him. His chest was broad, and she guessed it to be heavily muscled, too, as were his arms. His profile was, for lack of a better word, simply beautiful. She had never thought a man beautiful before Garrett.

He suddenly rolled over to one side and faced her, one arm propping his head up, the other resting in front of him. He seemed very large and strong compared to her. She was afraid to move. His very nearness made her feel so small.

“Who are you, Madeleine?”

Her mouth went dry. “Madeleine Bouchard, member of Farley’s mummers.”

“Bouchard?” he echoed. She thought quickly. “Yes, ‘tis French, my lord. My relatives came to England during the Norman invasion.”

He eyed her speculatively. “Then you’ve noble blood in you. I thought so.”

“Nay, my lord, you are mistaken. One of my ancestors simply served the nobility. Somewhere along the way he was granted a patch of land to farm. My father farms it to this day.”

“And why did you leave your home, Madeleine?”

A cuckolded husband would never understand why she’d left her own husband. She knew she could never admit the truth to him. Yet she couldn’t bear him to think ill of her.

“I was to marry a neighbor, but he caught the fever and died. I then was promised to his brother, but he, too, became ill and died. The third brother wanted little to do with me, but we still became betrothed at the wish of our fathers. He was killed when a mule kicked him in the head.”

She sighed. “People began to say I was cursed. Some called me a witch, and some thought the evil would befall any man who came around me. My parents, though they loved me dearly, felt it best that I should go.”

“And so you chose to go with Farley’s troupe?”

“Oh, yes. They were gathering in London, which is where I was headed when we first met. I knew I must reach them before they took off.”

“And your parents actually approved of this plan? Sending you alone on the road to London?”

“Of course not! They wanted me to go and work at the neighboring lord’s estate.” She snorted. “Can you see me milking cows and threshing wheat? I think not. I had my eye set on far better things. I knew I could sing and act as well as those who came through at our local faire each year, so I took off on my own.”

“How did you know of Farley’s troupe? That he was organizing in London at the time?”

Madeleine didn’t miss a beat. “They’d come our way every spring for several years. I’d become friendly with several members, including Gwenith. I knew where they’d be gathering and decided to take my chances with Farley.”

Garrett looked her directly in the eye. “I don’t believe a word you’ve just told me, Madeleine.”

She bolted upright. “
You
are no gentleman, sir. How could you doubt a lady?”

“I thought you were a farm girl, Madeleine.”

She blushed, the color rising from her neck to the tip of her head.

“Lie back down,” he said, “and tell me some more about yourself. I always did enjoy a good tale.”

Madeleine didn’t move. She was furious with him for not believing her, and angry with herself that she was such a poor liar. Oh, if only they’d met under different circumstances. If only she weren’t destined to leave Stanbury and seek sanctuary in a convent.

“Come, Madeleine,” he commanded. His voice was soft but she recognized the tone, one she was conditioned to obey immediately.

She eased back onto the rock, her body stiff, her mouth set. Returning her hands behind her head, she acted as if she had not a care in the world. She stared straight ahead, though she did not see the stars above. Her mind was filled with Garrett, while she could feel the heat he radiated. He smelled of leather. He smelled male. It drove her to distraction. And it made her mad. At him. At herself.

He eased closer to her. Her eyes remained fixed on the heavens above. He reached out and tilted her chin so she faced him. Her bottom lip trembled slightly at his touch. After a moment’s hesitation, he lowered his head to hers until their lips met. He brushed them softly and slowly against hers. His hand slipped from her chin, and he stroked her jaw gently.

Lazily, he ran his tongue over her lower lip. She found her lips parted without thought and he eased his tongue into her mouth.

He deepened the kiss and she shifted her arms from behind her head and wrapped them around his neck, urging him closer.

Madeleine ran her fingers through his hair, wanting him to touch him everywhere.

Suddenly, she shoved him back. “
Married
!” she gasped. “’Tis a sin!”

Garrett smoothed a wayward strand of hair from her face. “I don’t feel married anymore. Lynnette has been gone for so long. All I know is the ache I’ve known can be filled with you, Madeleine.”

He cupped her face within his hands and bent to kiss her again. She whipped her head from side-to-side, struggling from his grip.

“No, I can’t!” she wailed. She pushed him away and slid down the rock and took off in a half-run, half-walk since her knee ached fiercely.

“Madeleine, wait!” he called to her.

She stopped and spun around. “Leave me alone!” she cried. “God forgive us.”

Chapter 15

Madeleine fled across the meadow, her skirts held high. Her limp made the going hard, and she cursed Henri with every step.

She reached into her pocket and withdrew Henri-the-pebble. “I hate you, Henri, I truly hate you, and I hope you rot in hell!” She spat on the small stone and then flung it from her. “Take that, you rotten bastard!”

She continued toward her tent, stealing a few cautious looks over her shoulder. Thankfully, Garrett did not follow.

Reaching the tent, she moved aside the flap. A single candle burned by Gwenith’s pallet. She was fast asleep, as was Evan, snuggled next to his mother. Madeleine extinguished the candle, slipped her shoes off, and made her way to her own bed in the corner.

She lay down and pushed her face into the pillow to choke out the sobs as she had learned to do to avoid even further punishment from Henri. Hot tears soaked the pillowcase. She could not control them. Her insides ached, a deep, throbbing pain that was more than physical. She felt the hurt down into her very soul.

God had given her almost more than she could bear with her mockery of a marriage. She had escaped before she became another added rumor for Henri’s fourth wife to muse upon. She was willing to atone for breaking her wedding vows by living out the rest of her life in a convent. She would devote herself to a life of prayers, dedicated to Him alone. If Henri chose to divorce her, so be it. She would have rid herself of a monster and have gained sanctuary in the process.

But now God tested her resolve in another way. She desperately wanted Garrett Montayne. She needed him more than anything on this earth. Yet he was the one thing she could never have. Would a loving God put temptation in her path? Was this a test of her faith? Oh, it was so unfair!

Thank the Just Almighty that she remembered her own marriage vows before things went beyond a kiss. Besides, it
was
a sin for her to be with Garrett, even if his lawfully wedded wife had abandoned him for parts unknown.

She never wanted him to know she, too, was married. He was a man. Even if he learned that Henri had beaten her, he would not condone her actions. Most men beat their wives, anyway. A man would naturally side with another man. Garrett must never learn the truth.

She couldn’t avoid seeing him. Garrett was the lord of Stanbury, and he might show up anywhere unannounced. She must end the lessons with Lissa. That would keep their contact to a minimum. And there must always be people around when she saw him. They could never be alone again as they had been tonight. She feared she would give in to temptation otherwise.

Madeleine sighed, wiping away tears. She had enjoyed working with Lissa far more than she’d let on. At times, she had secretly thought of Lissa as her own daughter, reveling in such a fantasy. She felt sorry that Lissa would be hurt by the situation, but she must avoid Garrett as much as possible.

But couldn’t she think about him for just a little while? Surely God wouldn’t begrudge her that small pleasure. Those few moments tonight with Garrett were the happiest she’d known since she’d left home and moved to Chateau Maraine with Henri.

Madeleine pictured Garrett’s boots first, then worked her way up his strong, powerful body. She imagined his lips on hers, the feel of his hand along her jaw, the touch of his tongue against hers. Her stomach fluttered again and she moaned softly, longing for him.

A fresh flood of tears sprang from her eyes, tears of desire and loneliness. Madeleine curled into a ball and fell into a restless sleep.

The lessons with Lissa ended without Madeleine having to justify anything to Garrett. Gwenith had taken a turn for the worse during the night. Madeleine remained constantly at her side, only leaving for brief spells to take her turn on stage. Eventually, she took no breaks at all from the sickroom, leaving York to narrate each performance in her place.

“Will Mama die, Maddie?” Evan asked, four days now into their vigil.

Madeleine fought tears as his wide, fearful eyes told her that he knew there was no hope. She leaned over and picked him up and brought him onto her lap. She held him closely, stroking his hair.

“’Tis not for me to say, Evan. Only God knows.” Madeleine hesitated. She was a person who always faced the truth. She’d never been dishonest with Evan, and she could not begin lying to him now. “But I do fear your mama’s days on earth are few,” she added softly.

A tear glided down Evan’s cheek. “I’ve always been nice to Mama, haven’t I, Maddie? Even when I’ve been a bit bad?”

Madeleine smiled at him. “Of course you have, Evan.”

Gwenith wheezed, causing them to start. “Maddie?” she croaked. “Water.”

Madeleine poured her a cup and held it to Gwenith’s cracked lips. She drank, but most of it dribbled down her front.

“Evan,” she whispered.

“Right here, Mama.” He knelt next to her and she took his hand in hers.

“I love ye, sweet boy.”

Evan sniffed. “I love ye.”

“Listen to Maddie, all right? Be my good boy.”

“I always listen to Maddie.”

“I know ye do.” Gwenith choked, and Madeleine held a cloth to her friend’s mouth as a wave of blackened blood oozed out onto the rag.

“Is there anything I get for you?” Madeleine asked.

“No.” She turned to Evan. “Be a good boy and go to Cook and get me some leftover bread. As soon as he exited the tent, Gwenith faced Madeleine. “Much as I’d like, I cannot ask ye to take Evan.”

“Oh, Gwenith, I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

Gwenith studied her a long moment. “Then take him to Lord Eversleigh, down Sussex way. ‘Tis his son, and I know he’ll do right by the boy.” She coughed again and grimaced. “If he’d make him a stable lad or something, that’d please me nicely.”