Music for My Soul (21 page)

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, Maddie, I do love the horses. I think they like me a little bit, too.”

“Then we’ll see if Lord Montayne will let you practice being a stable boy here. We’ll be here for a while, Evan. As soon as I’m able, I’ll write to your papa and let him know we’re coming.”

From the doorway she heard Garrett say, “’Tis not necessary, Madeleine. I wrote to Eversleigh this morning about the boy. But where did
you
learn how to write?”

Chapter 18

Madeleine glared at Garrett as he stood in the doorway.
The man eavesdropped with more ease than Evan
, she thought, steeling herself for the coming conversation.

Evan scampered over to him and hugged his leg.

“Ye wrote my papa, my lord?” The boy smiled and squeezed Garrett’s leg again.

“Yes, Evan, and I’m sure we’ll hear from him soon. Now I do believe Lissa was looking for you.”

“I’m going ta tell her ‘bout my papa.” Evan puffed up with pride. “He’s a real lord.”

“Go look for her then. I’ll tend to Madeleine.” Garrett glanced at her, a gleam in his eyes.

Great, ’tis all she needed. Trapped for another inquisition.

Evan ran over to her, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “Got ta go, Maddie,” he said and ran from the room.

As Garrett strode confidently toward the bed, she forced herself not to squirm. “Now that prying ears are gone, I’ll ask again. How did you learn to write?”

“How do you know I can write, my lord? I might have been telling little Evan that for comfort and then asked you to pen the letter for me later. Did you think of that?”

Garrett shook his head. “You have a ready answer for everything, don’t you?”

“In this case, I do. I can write, you know. My papa was not a serf. I explained it all to you before.”

Garrett groaned. “Yes, I remember now. Norman invasion, aided his lord, rewarded with land, betrothed died, ran away, joined the mummers, wound up here. Is that the right order for the lies?”

Madeleine wanted to slap him. How dare he make fun of her! “You seem to have everything memorized. Mayhap you’d make a good troubadour. They must commit to heart hundreds of stories to be any good at all.” She sighed. “The better ones know thousands.”

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Oh, of course, I can read and write,” she told him, her exasperation growing. “My papa taught my brother, and I listened carefully. I actually caught on faster than Peter, which made him want to bash my nose a few times.”

“And did he?”

“Bash my nose?” She chuckled. “Of course he did. Always when no one was looking. He’d claim I tripped and landed face down, hence my bloody nose. He was always causing me grief.”

“Was?”

She nodded. “Yes. He’s dead now. Eventually, I was the one left to help Papa with the accounts. I have quite a head for figures.”

“How did Peter die?”

She cleared her throat. “On the way to town. He was alone and accosted by highwaymen.” A single tear slid down her cheek. “My parents never got over his death. Peter was always the favorite one.”

He burst out laughing. “You are incredible, Madeleine. Racked by pain, alone in the world, responsible for a little boy, at the mercy of a wicked nobleman, and you still spin your tales. No wonder my guests praise you so highly.” He turned to go. “I’ll be back, mayhap in a few days, or when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”

Madeleine reached for the cup on the table next to her and hurled it toward his head. He ducked and, still laughing, left the chamber.

“You bloody bastard,” she called after him. “Goodness.” She suddenly laughed at herself. “I’ve been in England so long I’m now cursing in the language. I wonder if I should say my rosary in English, too.”

Garrett was as good as his word. Madeleine didn’t see him again for a fortnight, though half his castle’s population had visited her in the first few days she was in bed, including several of the guests leaving to return to their own homes. One in particular, Lady Sanvale, was especially kind. Madeleine noticed the sparkle in the silver-haired woman’s eyes every night she had entertained with her stories and songs. She felt especially honored when the dowager duchess came to see her.

“You are remarkable, my dear,” Lady Sanvale said, patting her hand. “And so very brave! I don’t know of many men who’d rescue a kitten the way you did, risking your life.” She removed something from her surcoat and took Madeleine’s hand, patting her again as she placed something heavy and cool in her palm.

Madeleine opened her hand to find a beautiful brooch. “Oh, dear, my lady, I cannot accept such a valuable gift.

Lady Sanvale silenced her. “My child, I’m an old woman. Not many live to be my age, and I’ve decided to make my own laws as I go along. You have brought me happiness, and I would return some to you. Now take this. You may have need of it someday.”

Madeleine’s eyes glimmered with tears. She leaned forward and kissed the other woman’s withered cheek. “I thank you for your generosity, my lady.”

Others also visited, including many of the servants who’d come to see her perform during the faire. Lissa came daily, and even Lady Edith honored her with a visit. But Garrett did not come.

He stayed away for two full weeks, and Madeleine began to feel as if she might lose her mind after the first few days of bed rest. She didn’t know if it was from boredom or lack of his company. She had come to enjoy their verbal sparring, and she missed him terribly.

Edith agreed with her when she decided to begin Lissa’s lessons again. Evan sat in on them, too, practicing both music and drawing when he could be excused from his work in the stables. Garrett, again true to his word, made sure his men kept the boy busy there. And for his part, Evan seemed to adore being around the horses. He did come and sleep with her every night, though.

“I’m used ta sleeping near ye, Maddie,” he told her when he planted himself on the floor at the foot of her bed after that first night. “Ye might need me, and I’ll be here to help protect ye.”

“Then come lie next to me, Evan. The floor’s too hard.”

Of course, Lissa became jealous and also wanted to sleep with her. They’d had quite a time convincing her she belonged in her own chamber. It was moments like that in which Madeleine was relieved that Annie was the girl’s nurse and not she.

Madeleine awakened early, as was her custom, and rose immediately. She practiced getting around several times a day, wanting to strengthen her leg and her own stamina as much as possible. She'd learned in the past not to let injuries slow her down, or Henri would make it worse for her. Her husband despised any display of weakness and took cruel advantage of anyone in that state. Madeleine had learned to fight the pain at first, and then she had learned to work with it. After three years with Henri, she knew just how far she could push her body and what its limitations were.

The leg, still in its unwieldy splint, was heavy, but she managed it well. She hobbled around the room several times, exhausted but pleased with her progress. She whispered a fervent prayer to the Holy Mother, hoping the splint was helping her bones to mend properly. She smiled to herself, picturing the arrogant physician. She wished he could see what she’d already accomplished in so short a time.

She heard a light rap on the door and it opened quietly. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Garrett bearing a tray. On it sat bread and ale, with a large wedge of cheese. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of it, and she felt her face flush.

Garrett entered the room and closed the door. He stared at her, concern written on his features. “Should you be trying to walk, Madeleine? ‘Tis a bit early, don’t you think?”

She shook her head fiercely. “Nay, I must!” she insisted. “’Tis important that I move about. I know ‘twill help me heal more quickly.” She concentrated on each step as she moved slowly and deliberately toward the bed, swinging the damaged leg stiffly along.

She glanced up and saw him watching her, a pained expression on his face. He looked as if he was ready to sweep her up and carry her to her destination. It was the last thing she wanted from him. She gave him credit, though, for he stood still and waited until she finally reached him.

He helped her onto the bed, lifting her against the pillows and smoothing the covers over her. The very nearness of him brought her pleasure.

He placed the tray on the bed and she reached for the ale, suddenly very thirsty. Her hands trembled as she took the cup and brought it to her lips, realizing her efforts had depleted most of her strength. He raised his hand to hers and steadied it so she could drink more easily.

Madeleine drank deeply of the rich liquid. These turns around the room always left her drained. She wished Garrett would just leave, for she had no wits about her now. Still, he’d stayed away for a long time.

“My lord?” she asked. “Is there something special about today?”

“I wish you would call me Garrett. You are a guest in my home. All my friends call me Garrett.”

A giggle escaped from her. “And your enemies call you the Devil Himself?”

He grinned. “Better you call me Devil than nothing at all.” His expression grew serious. “I do wish to speak with you about an important matter. Last night Lord Eversleigh arrived at Stanbury.”

She gasped. “So soon?” An ache like the one she’d felt upon Gwenith’s death filled her suddenly.

He nodded. “He’d like to leave today with Evan. He’s meeting the boy for the first time now.”

Her lips began to tremble, and she bit the lower one, trying to still it. “May I see Evan before he goes?” she asked quietly.

“Of course. You know he’d insist upon it.”

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Lord Eversleigh would like to see you in about an hour. I’ll have Annie or someone come help you dress.”

Madeleine nodded and turned her face away as he left the room. Sorrow began to weigh upon her soul. Her appetite had diminished and she pushed the tray away as hot tears fell.

Madeleine dried her cheeks and was ready when the nobleman came to see her. He was very tall, with dark hair and dark eyes that sparkled with the same mischief she saw every day in Evan’s eyes. She was struck by the uncanny resemblance Evan bore to this stranger. It would be obvious to anyone that they were father and son.

Eversleigh strode across the room and bowed to her. He dragged a chair up next to her bed. Surprisingly, he took her hand in his.

“Tell me about my dearest Gwenith.” There was no mistaking his wistful tone, nor the tenderness in his eyes.

Madeleine found her own eyes welling with fresh tears. “She was the best friend I ever had. Gwenith rescued me at the lowest point in my life and brought me around to the happiest times I’ve known.”

Eversleigh smiled. “That’s my girl.” He sighed. “She was the most alive, most vibrant person I’ve ever known.”

“And very beautiful,” Madeleine added.

“Yes.” Eversleigh beamed. “With that impossibly red hair and wide smile. She quite stole my heart.” He shook his head in amazement. “She stole my wife’s, too. Even after she found out about Gwenith’s being with child, my child, my wife hadn’t the heart to throw her out. Most wives would storm and rage. Mine made booties for Evan.”

“Yes, Gwenith did have a way about her,” she agreed with a smile. She felt the mirth fade from her lips and squeezed his hand. “You were very much in Gwenith’s thoughts at the end, my lord. She told me she’d never stopped loving you.” Madeleine’s eyes misted over. “Those were her last words.”

Eversleigh stood abruptly and cleared his throat. “Why did she leave?” he thundered. “I could have cared for her. She’d never have gotten sick, never left Evan motherless, never . . .” His voice broke and he sat in the chair again, his head in his hands.

Madeleine wished she had the answers he so desperately wanted.

Eversleigh remained that way for several minutes before raising his head. “Thank you for being her friend. And for caring for my son. He’s very fond of you. In fact, if you’d like, you may journey to Sussex when you are well and care for him there. Would you consider it?”

Madeleine longed to do that very thing. She’d become so attached to the little tyke in such a short time, she had no idea how she’d manage without seeing him on a daily basis. Yet he had his own life now with his father. She, on the other hand, had to return to France and embark on her new life there.

“I will keep that in mind, my lord,” she told him, but she could see he knew she would never interfere.

Loud steps came from the corridor and Evan and Lissa pushed her door wide, bounding in as only the young can.

“Maddie, did you meet my papa? Isn’t he wonderful?” Evan ran to one side of her bed, and Lissa joined him on the other.

“Yes, Evan, he’s very nice. I think you’ll have a wonderful time in Sussex.”

Evan glanced quickly at his father and then asked, “Papa said you could come with us. Will you, Maddie?” He gazed at her lovingly, making her heart ache all the more.

Her voice was thick as she replied, “I’ll consider it, Evan, but for now I must remain behind and get well. You do understand that, don’t you?”

Evan threw himself into her arms, wrapping his own around her neck. “I’ll miss you so, Maddie, just like I miss Mama.” He squirmed away and studied her face a long time.

“What are you doing, Evan?” she finally asked.

“I’m remembering what you look like, Maddie. I’m forgetting what Mama looked like already. I don’t want to forget you, too.”

Madeleine’s face puckered and she reached for him, holding him fast. “I do love you, Evan. I will always, always love you. You’ll remember that, won’t you?”

“O’ course, Maddie.” He scrambled toward the door, followed by Lissa, his every-present shadow. “I’ve got to tell my horses goodbye now, Maddie.” He frowned. “But I won’t miss that Barth at all, with his creepy one eye. He’s a mean one.”

Madeleine smiled wistfully at the retreating figure, knowing she’d never see him again.

Garrett stepped into the doorway. Madeleine’s face was buried in her hands. He watched her shoulders jerk with spasms as if she were sobbing, but the absence of noise was eerie. The room remained absolutely silent.