“Sorry, Papa,” she said softly then perked up. “Would you like to hear my song again?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear.
Ashby and Edith exchanged wide—eyed looks. The child seemed like a different person. He’d seen her range from sullen to sweet over the last two years, from silent to barely speaking, but never jubilant, never as a child her age was meant to act. Something significant had happened today. A smile tugged at his mouth. He had an idea who might be involved here.
Lissa climbed down from Garrett’s lap. She seemed unsure what to do now with all attention focused upon her. Her hand went to her hair, where she methodically began twisting a strand around her finger.
Ashby spoke up. “You said you had a song, Lissa? Could we hear it, please?”
Lissa nodded but remained silent, her finger still twirling in her hair. She looked from Ashby to Edith and back again. He tried to encourage her once more.
“Come, Lissa, we are the perfect audience to hear your song for the first time. I know you must sing better than your papa, and surely you’ll sound better than I. The ladies fairly knock themselves down to escape hearing me when I try to serenade them.”
Lissa giggled. “I sing to my dolls every night. And I sang for Madeleine and Papa today.”
He shot a look at Garrett, whose eyes remained hooded. His elbows were propped upon the table, hands locked under his chin.
“Who’s Madeleine?” asked Edith.
“She’s Papa’s friend, Aga,” said Lissa impatiently. “Can I sing my song now?”
“Of course,” Edith told her, but she kept her eyes upon her son for the moment.
Ashby noticed Garrett ignored all glances that came his way, choosing to concentrate on Lissa instead.
Lissa sang with joy. The words she’d made up were simple, but the tune was sweet. Her tiny voice soared throughout the Great Hall. She seemed to grow taller as she stood there. She never faltered once.
When she finished, thunderous applause echoed in the cavernous room. Everyone present, from her family to the servants, seemed amazed how she’d opened up. She ran to Garrett and hugged him fiercely.
“You did well, Lissa. Now let us tuck you into bed.”
They went up the stairs. Edith’s gaze followed them.
“He hasn’t tucked her into bed in such a long time, Ashby. What is going on? Who is this Madeleine?”
He sighed. “I wish I could say more, Edith. I’m afraid you’ll have to ask your son.” He rose and left the room, his curiosity urging him on.
He ascended the stairs and went to Lissa’s chamber. Garrett was inside, kneeling next to his daughter at the foot of her bed.
“And God bless Papa and Aga and Ashby and Annie and Cook and my dolls. And God bless Madeleine. Amen.”
Garrett helped Lissa into bed, arranging the covers and settling her dolls around her. He leaned over and kissed her goodnight.
Ashby leaned against the wall outside the door. As Garrett exited, he fell into step with him. Casually, he asked, “So Madeleine is now your friend?”
Garrett stopped in his tracks and faced him. “All I know is that she worked a miracle today, Ash. She had Lissa playing and talking. She showed her where everything will be set up for the faire. Lissa climbed into her lap and listened to a story. Lissa sang for us and, by God’s teeth, she’s good! Then she went off to play with a boy Madeleine’s been caring for. She was . . . happy.”
Garrett ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I still don’t know exactly who Madeleine is, Ash, but after today, I don’t care.”
He wanted to point out to Garrett that more than one miracle had been wrought today. Little Lissa might be talking and smiling, but her papa was showing his own spark, as well. Ashby hadn’t seen Garrett care about anything for a long time. It was nice to see his good friend come so alive. Ashby missed the kinder, gentler Garrett of past days.
“Mayhap the mysterious Madeleine has even more tricks up her sleeve,” he said cryptically.
Madeleine stayed busy the rest of the day. There was much to be done, for the faire opened in two day’s time. It would be in operation for almost a week and then culminate with the summer solstice. Not much emphasis was placed upon this day in France, but in England, particularly for the people she now resided with, this event seemed to have special significance.
“Think, Maddie, ‘tis the longest day of the year,” Gwenith told her. “Some think ‘tis a night o’ eerie superstitions, but Mama always told me ‘twas a night for passion to run wild.” Gwenith’s eyes sparkled for a moment. “Anything can happen during solstice.” She sighed and then looked a bit sheepish. “Most anything, I suppose. At least that’s when Evan’s papa swept me off me feet with but one kiss. Oh, he were a rascal, that man.”
Madeleine smiled at her friend. Today Gwenith had a bit of color in her cheeks and she was sitting up talking animatedly. Evan had been in and out, and Gwenith finally felt well enough to pay him some attention. Her cough still sounded ferocious, but it appeared less often, though the dark circles still remained under her eyes.
“Where did you meet Evan’s father?” Madeleine asked, curious.
Evan burst into the tent. “Are you going to read to Mama again?”
Color swept up Gwenith’s cheeks as Even leaped into her lap.
Madeleine laughed and met Gwenith’s gaze. “You’re just in time.” Keeping her voice low and soothing, she started the book she’d been entertaining them with the past few nights.
Evan nuzzled his mother’s cheek and sat close to her as Madeleine finished up.
“That ‘twas nice, Maddie, dear. Thank ‘ee.” Gwenith stroked Evan’s hair, a contented look upon her face.
Evan suddenly sat up. “Mama! I made a new friend today.”
“Ye did? And what’s his name?” Gwenith asked eagerly.
“’Tis not a he, Mama. ‘Tis a she. She’s five.” He held up five fingers on his hand. “She likes to run and she’s gonna see me in the show.”
“That’s nice, my sweet.”
“She’s friends with Maddie, too. Maddie told us a story ‘bout a castle and a fairy princess. And there was a mean witch and a . . .” He paused and frowned. “What’s he called again, Maddie?”
“A warlock, Evan. That’s a man who’s a witch.”
“That’s right, Mama, a warlock.” He shivered. “’Twas a very scary man he was, but the hero saved them all.”
Evan stood, ready to go again, but not before he imparted one more piece of information. “Maddie has a friend, too. He’s Lissa’s papa, and she called him ‘my lord'’. I thought lords were very scary, like warlocks, but Lissa’s papa was nice.”
Evan kissed his mother’s cheek. “I’m gonna see if Osbert needs my help, Mama. I’ll be back.”
“Don’t be gone too long, son. ‘Tis almost time ye were abed.”
Gwenith waited till Evan was out of earshot before turning to Madeleine. “So ye’ve a friend who’s a lord?”
Madeleine blushed, which made Gwenith chuckle. “Tell me all, dearest, and no holding back.”
Madeleine was reluctant to share the entire story with Gwenith. She had revealed to Gwenith early on that she was married, but she had not gone into any details as to why she was not keeping company with her husband. “You remember when you found me on the docks, Gwenith?”
“Aye.”
Madeleine filled Gwenith in on her encounters with Garrett, leaving out their kiss, of course. That was something she’d keep to warm herself when the nightmares got bad. “The lord’s daughter is a precious little angel, and she and Evan got along so well. ‘Twas good to see Evan have a companion near his own age.”
“And ye, too, Maddie?”
Madeleine flushed as Gwenith gave her a knowing smile. “Ye keep people at arm’s length, Maddie. Oh, not Evan and me, but I’ve thought ye needed more than us.”
Madeleine shook her head. “You’ve become my family, Gwenith. You, Evan, the tr
oupe. You’ve all taken me in and been so kind. Don’t go seeing things where they aren’t,” she gently scolded her.
“But ‘tis already there, Maddie,” Gwenith softly said. “There’s something between ye and this lord. Oh, stop shaking yer head at me, girl. I know ye.”
She reached over and took Madeleine’s hand. “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on ye that ye’re no commoner, Maddie Bouchard, or whatever yer name is. I don’t know what ye’re running from or why, but I do know I love ye like me own flesh.”
Gwenith leaned toward her and wrapped her arms around Madeleine’s neck. “I want ye to be happy.”
She let go and fell back into her pillows. “Don’t live life with regrets, Maddie. Don’t look back. Look ahead.”
But what could she look forward to? She longed to return to France and leave her burdens behind, but if she did, she feared what would happen to Gwenith and Evan if her friend didn’t fully recover.
Yet, more than anything, she longed to see Garrett again. To spar with him, to see that gentle smile he withheld from the world, to feel his mouth on hers.
Her head ached. Maybe some air would do her good. She bent and kissed Gwenith’s cheek and brushed the hair back from her friend’s brow. It frightened her how Gwenith had physically deteriorated in just a few short weeks. Oh, Gwenith still had her engaging personality, but her cheeks were sunken, her eyes dull, and her flesh seemed to hang on her bones. Madeleine blinked back the tears just as Evan came in. He kissed his mother goodnight and allowed Madeleine to tuck him in.
She left the tent. The camp was settling down for the night. A few mummers still gathered around the dying fire, talking and joking, but most people were ready for a good night’s sleep.
She continued toward the open area, which would soon be covered with wares and crowds of people interested in buying and selling their goods. She had come to appreciate this kind of life. The people might not be well-off, but they were rich in all that mattered in life. They had an honesty about them and a love for what they did. Madeleine realized that these past few months had been among the happiest in her life.
Thankfully, those around her had dispelled the horrors of Henri for a time, which had helped her soul begin to heal. She listened to the crickets’ soft music, longing for the nights she and her father sat together outside and listened to their chirping. She glanced up to the star-filled night, at peace for the moment.
“Madeleine.”
The peace instantly shattered. She turned and saw a frowning Royce approaching her. He did not seem to be in good spirits, and she sought to dispel his sour mood with humor.
“Good evening to you, Royce. And aren’t we in a black mood? If I didn’t know better, I’d think—”
“Enough, Madeleine,” he said angrily. His tone put her on guard.
“What’s wrong, Royce?”
“I thought you were married.” He spit the words out at her. His blue eyes, usually so merry, were now cold as ice as he looked her up and down.
Her stomach rolled, a queasy feeling settling in it. “I am. I told you so.”
“And have you told Lord Montayne?” His eyes narrowed.
“Why would I bother to tell our lord host of my marital status?” she tossed back.
“Why, indeed? I would have thought that unnecessary. Until I saw you together this afternoon.”
Madeleine quickly thought back and realized Royce must have seen them walking with Lissa. “Yes, I was with Lord Montayne earlier today. He asked that I show him and his daughter around. I was happy to comply.”
“You seemed awfully cozy.”
“Royce, please. I was merely doing him a favor. I love children so, and his daughter is a very sweet girl. In fact, she and Evan have become fast friends.”
“I saw how he looked at you.”
She stammered, “What-what do you mean?”
He took her by her arm, his fingers like steel pressed against her tender flesh. “I know what a man wants when he looks at a woman like that, Madeleine, and ‘tis not a tour of the faire grounds.”
“Royce, let go. You’re hurting me.”
He jerked her close to him. She was so near she could see the stubble along his chin and her stomach churned. Usually she could swallow the nausea until Henri was through beating her, but she didn’t know if she could now. She was out of practice, and the thought that she had no control of this situation at all made her hysteria rise. She’d scream if she had to, pride and honor be damned. She wouldn’t allow herself to be bullied by a man again.
“Royce, please,” she pleaded.
“Is this how the mighty lord looked at you, Madeleine? Did he want you as much as I do? Would you do for him and deny me?” he sneered.
“Take your hands from her,” a voice commanded from the dark.
Chapter 13
“Take your hands from her.” Garrett was surprised at how steady his voice remained despite the anger thundering through his body. The thought of any man touching Madeleine against her will sickened him. He clenched and unclenched his fist, wanting to tear the bastard from Madeleine and slam his fist into the man’s face.
The couple turned in his direction. Garrett could see the pain and alarm written across Madeleine’s face. He now recognized the man as the one called Royce who’d whisked Madeleine away from him at the other faire. He’d been jealous of him at the time, but he was furious at the mummer now.
Garrett took another step toward them. Royce still clasped Madeleine’s arm in a tight grip, one that would surely leave bruises on the morrow. He sized up his adversary. His chest was broad and thick, and his arms were well-muscled. The moonlight caught the ice-blue eyes that stared daggers at him. “Unhand the lady now”,” Garrett demanded.
Royce thrust Madeleine from him, releasing his death grip. She immediately began rubbing her arm, tears glinting against the moonlight.
“Are you all right, Madeleine?” Garrett asked softly.
“Yes, my lord”,” she replied, no louder than a whisper.
“I refuse to ask your Mr. Farley to vacate the premises because of the actions of one individual,” he told Royce. “However, you are to leave and never return to Stanbury. I will not tolerate the abuse of women in any manner.”
Royce balled his hands into fists, ready to attack. “I have never abused a woman in my life.” He made to charge Garrett, but Madeleine jumped in front of him.
“Royce, are you mad? Have you forgotten the law? Your reason has fled you, for I know you’d never assault a nobleman. ‘Twould be death to do so!”
Royce froze at her words.
Garrett clenched his hands into fists as Madeleine turned and threw out her hand.
“No, please, my lord. ‘Twas simply a misunderstanding, more my fault than Royce’s.”
What? Her fault? Anger coiled in Garrett’s gut. Had she led him to think he could have his way with her then changed her mind? He had no patience for cock teasers.
She stood very still, but there was a slight tremble in her voice and body.
“I beg you to reconsider, my lord. Royce is an integral part of several of our plays. ‘Twould be impossible for Farley to replace him now. ‘Twould affect many in our troupe and many others who’ve come to Stanbury to sell their wares. Please, my lord. Do not be hasty in your decision.”
Garrett raked a hand through his hair. He’d like nothing better than to punish Royce with his fists and banish him from Stanbury. Yet he needed Farley’s troupe to stay. He couldn’t risk losing Madeleine.
Garrett inclined his head to her. “As you wish, Madeleine.” He turned to Royce. “However, if I hear of or witness another scene like the one I came across this evening, there will be no forgiveness a second time. Leave Madeleine well alone, and stay far from my sight, else I’ll banish you from Stanbury. Be gone!”
Royce stood eyeing Garrett for a long moment, a surly expression upon his face. Finally, he turned and trudged off in the direction of the tents.
Gar
rett took a step toward Madeleine. Her trembling grew more visible now. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, glistening in the bright moonlight. He held out his arms. He didn’t know if she moved to him or he to meet her, but suddenly she was there, enfolded within his embrace.
He ached for her as the silent sobs racked her slender body, her thin shoulders shaking. He held her tenderly, murmuring soothing words to her, stroking her silken hair over and over. Eventually, her sobs quieted and the shudders subsided, but she remained in his arms. He made no move to kiss her, choosing to comfort her instead.
He realized it didn’t matter. Although he had fantasized about kissing her again, he was content now to simply hold her. After witnessing the scene with Royce as he held her against her will, Garrett did not want to take the chance of scaring her away.
Besides, he liked the feel of her next to him. True, he’d rather be running his fingers through her long hair, stroking her breasts with his hands and tongue, but for now, this proved enough.
“My lord?” Her voice was hesitant. She eased away from him slightly and met his gaze.
“Yes, Madeleine?”
“I . . . I want to thank you. You see . . . well, Royce has never behaved thus. I . . .” She couldn’t go on.
“I understand, Madeleine.” He drew her to him again for a brief moment, but he knew he must let her go. Reluctantly, he dropped his arms and took a step back.
“May I accompany you back to your tent?”
She nodded. He did not take her arm, much as he desired, but remained by her side. He slowed his gait to compensate for her slight limp, but they still reached the tent much too quickly.
“Will you be all right?”
She nodded. Before he could let her go, he took her hand and raised it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. An electricity seemed to crackle through the calm, June night.
She stared at him, her mouth half-open as if to speak, but no sound came out.
“I will see you on the morrow,” he said.
“Au revoir,” she answered softly, and he was gone.
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