Song of the Heart (Medieval Runaway Wives Book 1)

by Alexa Aston

Yet Madeleine longed for the intimacy of kissing a man she loved. She’d soon discovered that Henri would never be that man. She had relegated kissing far into a corner chamber of her mind. She’d stopped daydreaming about it and such foolish ideas as romantic love.

  Until Lord Montayne.

  She admitted to herself that she had often thought about kissing the nobleman these past two months. When she wrapped his cloak about her, she longed to be enveloped in his arms, as well. He would hold her firmly, yet tenderly, and then he would kiss her, over and over, until she was breathless.

  She had not thought this fantasy could ever come true and, in truth, it had not. Garrett had barely touched her, his lips brushing hers softly but for a moment. It gave Madeleine a glimpse, though, of the magic that might have been if she hadn’t been married to Henri. Maybe real love did exist after all.

  She felt a deep longing within her but knew this ache could never be filled. Even if she imagined herself falling in love with an English lord, nothing could come of it. She was married. So was he, although there seemed to be a different standard among men who had taken their marriage vows and women who kept theirs. Madeleine resolved never to see him again. He had his cloak. That was all he’d come for.

  Or was it?

  *

  Garrett found Ashby still in Hannah’s giggling company. The sun had now set and he was anxious to leave. He caught Ashby’s eye and motioned him over.

  “Are you ready to ride?”

  Ashby raised his brows. “No,” he said frankly. “And I thought you wouldn’t be either. Or was the alluring Madeleine not taken in by your many charms?”

  Garrett stared at him coldly. “She’s not like that, Ash.”

  His friend laughed. “Oh, so now she’s a lady?”

  “That’s not quite what I meant.”

  “Then what do you mean, Garrett? I rode off to London with you at the drop of a hat. Not that anyone’s counting, but it was the third time we’ve done so in as many months. You promised me a little fun on our way back and I aim to have it.” He frowned. “You could use a little of that fun yourself, Garrett.”

  “I need to get back to Stanbury. I’ve arrangements to make.”

  Ashby tilted his head. “Arrangements? What are you preparing for?”

  Garrett shrugged. “It seems we’ll be holding a little faire at Stanbury, Ash.”

  Ashby grinned and slapped Garrett on the back. “When was this decided?”

  “It’s something I worked out with a Mister Farley, who’s head of the mummers. They were to travel next to Summerville and quarter there for a few weeks.”

  “Yes, we’ve been to the summer solstice celebration there before, Garrett, don’t you remember?”

  “I’ve decided they need to spend their next sojourn at Stanbury instead.” Garrett paused. “Of course, Lord Denton doesn’t know this yet.”

  Ashby hooted with pleasure. “Serves the old bastard right. Imagine, him being passed over for Stanbury. What I wouldn’t give to see the look on his face when he’s informed of the change.”

  “Stop your gloating, Ash. He’ll be told soon enough, I’m sure. It’s also costing me plenty from my pocket to see that it occurs.” For a moment he felt like the Garrett of old. He quickly sobered and clamped a hand on Ash’s shoulder. “So I ride back to Stanbury tonight. You may come with me now or follow later. It’s up to you.”

  Ashby glanced behind him to where Hannah stood a distance away, tapping her foot impatiently. “I might need just one night of rest before I continue on, Garrett. Too much travel at one time has never suited me.”

  Garrett shook his head. “You and your women, Ash.”

  Ashby shrugged. “What can I say?

  *

  Madeleine looked up as Elspeth came into the tent. Disappointment washed over her, wishing it would have been Lord Montayne again. Despite her determination to keep away from him, she longed to see the man again.

  “How’s the little love?” Elspeth motioned down to Evan, who was curled around Madeleine.

  “Good, for once. If we could keep him asleep at all times, some might mistake him for an angel.”

  Elspeth chuckled and bent to lift Evan. She placed him on a pallet of straw and then reached a hand down to Madeleine. Madeleine winced as her injured knee reminded her of the viciousness of her husband. Hating that she had to depend on others, she leaned heavily on Elspeth to get to her feet. She bit her lip, trying to ignore her knee’s constant throbbing.

  “I’m here to spell ye,” Elspeth told her. “Ye haven’t had a bite to eat nor a chance to rest.” Elspeth waved her hand in front of her. “Don’t push me off, child. Ye know I’m right. Now go and get some food in yer belly. I’ll sit with Gwenith and the tyke.”

  Madeleine nodded and exited the tent. A slight breeze greeted her. She brushed her hair away from her face and moved slowly toward the campfire, wobbly on her stiff legs.

  This time of day had turned out to be her favorite since she’d joined Farley’s group. The day’s performances were done and the troupe’s spirits were lighthearted. There was food to be had, tales to be told, songs to be sung. The after-show celebrations all made Madeleine feel a part of a family, something she’d sorely missed.

  Edgar pushed a plate into her hands. “Go fill it up, Madeleine, and then perhaps you’ll tell us a story?” he asked hopefully, his bushy white eyebrows raised in expectation. Edgar was old enough to be her grandfather but he was very flirtatious with her.

  “If I can think of one, Edgar, I shall,” she promised.

  “Of course you can, Madeleine. You’ll never run out of tales,” he cackled.

  Madeleine caught a whiff of mutton and freshly baked bread at the same time and her mouth watered in response. Soon, her plate was loaded and she inhaled the meal, finding she was much hungrier than she’d thought possible.

  The mutton was tender and she cleaned her plate quickly. Edgar took it from her and refilled it despite her protests.

  “I know you can do justice to it, Madeleine,” he said and handed her a second helping with a wink.

  She patted his hand in thanks and Edgar blushed until his bald pate glowed beet red. Those present laughed loudly. Madeleine realized then how much she had come to love her new life performing for the crowds, being with those who were richly blessed with love and laughter in their lives, feeling a part of a gathering. It brought tears to her eyes and she blinked rapidly several times before they spilled down her cheeks. She quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

  “Are you through eating, Madeleine?” Osbert asked, an expectant look on his face. “Edgar says you’ll tell us a tale when you’ve had your fill.”

  Edgar poked Osbert in the ribs. “I said she might tell us a tale, you oaf. Only if she wants, of course.”

  The cries rose then, as several begged her to entertain them with a story.

  “Come on, Madeleine, sing us but one song,” said Osbert.

  “Yes, indeed,” added Ruth. “You’ve a much better voice than York,” she proclaimed, casting a sideways glance at the troubadour.

  York clutched his heart. “Crushed again,” he said mockingly. “Will no one but God Almighty ever recognize my talents?”

  Several grumbled at York’s antics but even more tried to persuade her to stay a bit longer. Madeleine felt she couldn’t let them down and before she knew it, an hour had passed.

  “I must return to Gwenith,” she finally told those gathered around her.

  There were some good-natured grumbles but all understood why she retired early. As she began her way back to the tent, Royce fell into step with her.

  “You tell a fine tale, Madeleine,” he praised.

  “Thank you, Royce. Your compliment is much appreciated.”

  They walked along in companionable silence. This was the Royce she had come to trust, she thought. She enjoyed being around him. She opened her mouth to tell him so and was shocked when he swung her into his arms and kissed her.

 
He held her close to him and surprised her by quickly pushing his tongue into her open mouth. He stroked her own tongue with his as he caressed her back with his large hands. Pushing her palms against his chest, Madeleine broke away from him.

  “We mustn’t, Royce,” she sputtered, left breathless by the kiss. Her thoughts were whirling, realizing how different his kiss was from the one she’d received earlier from Garrett. Garrett’s had spoken of hidden mysteries and promises to be fulfilled. Royce’s seemed rough and cheap in comparison.

  “Why not, Madeleine? I am a man. You are a woman. I am attracted to you and I know you are to me by how you responded to my kiss. What’s wrong for two people to show how they care for one another?”

  Madeleine wrapped her arms tightly around her body. Her head was swimming. “Because I’m married,” she finally managed.

  “Married?” he said in wonder. He cocked his head to one side and squinted, deep in thought. Finally, he met her gaze. “I don’t care, Madeleine. I love you,” he said desperately. “We’ll run away if that’s what you want. We can go across England into Wales for all I care. We’ll change our names. I’ll do anything to be with you.”

  For a few seconds, she was tempted. To become a new person, to leave her myriad of problems behind. The idea held promise.

  But it was wrong. She was married to Henri, for better or for worse, and most of it had been worse. She would stay wed until she died. No, she must return to France and enter a convent. It was the honorable thing to do. God expected it of her. She refused to let the Almighty down.

  Suddenly, Garrett’s image came into her mind and she pondered his kiss, too. It had been a very different kind of kiss, full of sweetness and promise. No, if she had been given a choice to run from her problems, she would have fled with the enigmatic nobleman who seemed constantly in her thoughts. As it was, this married woman would only run to God’s open arms.

  She banished the picture of Garrett that danced in her head, knowing she must fight the attraction she felt for the moody lord of Stanbury. It would cause untold sorrows. She must be strong. She had handled far worse to this point and would manage this, too.

  Looking at Royce, she wondered how she could crush the hope his eyes held. She could not bear to hurt him after all his kindness toward her. Maybe she could let him down gently. Her lies would ease him and she promised her Dear Lord she’d do ten Our Fathers for what she said now.

  “Royce, your kiss was very nice, indeed, and I would be a liar if I said I did not enjoy it. But I have much on my mind now. I have a husband I’ve left, Gwenith to nurse, Evan to watch after. I can’t leave now. Can you understand this?”

  “No, Madeleine, I can’t. I want you.” He grabbed her elbows roughly and jerked her close to him, their eyes locking. Her heart raced with fear. Her eyes darted wildly about. Royce seemed to sense her alarm and slowly relaxed his grip. Instead, he folded his arms about her gently and gave her a reassuring hug.

  “You ask too much of me.” He sighed. “I know you have a heavy burden on your heart but once Gwenith’s better, we will talk of this again.”

  She hadn’t the heart to tell him she would be long gone by that time so she simply nodded.

  “Goodnight, Royce,” she said and walked alone the remaining way to the tent.

  *

  Gwenith had a fairly good night and Madeleine had spent a pleasant morning with her friend. She’d left Gwenith napping while she went to perform in the first show of the day.

  Madeleine eagerly scanned the crowd but did not catch sight of Garrett. She did see Ashby, though, Hannah by his side. He waved gaily to her, even as his eyes wandered when a pretty girl passed in front of him. Like a bee flying from flower to flower, she thought.

  When the play was completed, she was surprised when he made his way over to her.

  “A lovely performance, Madeleine.” He smiled at her. “May I call you Madeleine?” he asked impishly.

  “Better than Lady Montayne, I suppose,” she quipped.

  He laughed heartily at her words. “Oh, I will enjoy having you around, Madeleine.”

  His words perplexed her. “What mean you, Sir Ashby?”

  “I hope I haven’t let the cat out of the bag.” He rolled his eyes and began whistling.

  “My lord?” she asked pointedly, her eyes narrowed, imploring him to answer.

  He threw his hands in the air. “I give up, dear lady. I could never stand for a woman to look at me in anger.” He sighed. “Your Mister Farley has agreed to have the mummers and the faire move to Stanbury next.”

  Madeleine frowned. “You must be mistaken, my lord. We are to leave in two days’ time for Summerville. There we will spend at least two weeks and celebrate the summer solstice.”

  Ashby flicked a ladybug from his shoulder. “Not anymore, Madeleine. Garrett has arranged for you to bypass that stop. His home, Stanbury, is where you’ll spend the next few weeks.”

  “But . . . but . . .”

  “No buts, dear Madeleine. You’ll be nearby to entertain us for many pleasant hours.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. “Until we meet again.”

  Madeleine yanked her hand free and whirled, needing to find Farley. Surely he would not confirm such gibberish.

  She spotted him and, lifting her skirts, hurried as fast as she could across the short distance between them.

  “Farley! I must speak with you at once.”

  He turned. “Hello, Madeleine. How is Gwenith today?” he asked pleasantly.

  “Much better, Farley, but what’s this about skipping Summerville?”

  Farley lifted his shoulders. “We were made a better offer, Madeleine. I have many people who depend upon me. I chose to go where we’ll earn more money.”

  “So Stanbury is our next stop?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  Madeleine turned and flounced off, passing by a laughing Ashby.

  “Zut!” she swore under her breath as she stormed away. “And I don’t intend on saying any Hail Mary’s, either,” she muttered to no one in particular.

  Chapter Eleven

  Stanbury was, Madeleine admitted to herself, one of the loveliest estates she’d ever seen. Although she loved her native France, and the wine country in particular, England in full bloom was spectacular. The lush, green hills rolled gently throughout the countryside, fading into forests filled with tall, strong trees that had stood for hundreds of years. She’d only been here two days but she felt she would never tire of this scenery.

  As she stood admiring it yet again, Evan tugged on her tunic to get her attention. Madeleine lowered her gaze to the colorful bouquet of wildflowers he held in his hands. He smiled at her, a wiggling, tousle-haired imp.

  “These are for Mama,” he said, splitting the bouquet into two sections and indicating those in his left hand. “And these are for ye, Maddie.”

  “Thank you, Evan.” Madeleine curtsied then swept the flowers up, inhaling their sweet scent. “I shall treasure them.”

  “Of course ye will. They’re from me!” He squealed with delight and went running off to the tent area. He hollered over his shoulder. “And they’re from him, too.” Evan continued running, flying across the green grass as fast as a jackrabbit being pursued by dogs.

  Madeleine cocked her head and frowned. “What did he mean by that?”

  A voice that was all too familiar responded, “He meant that the flowers were from the both of us.”

  She spun around and inhaled sharply. “Lord Montayne,” she managed to say calmly, although her heart beat as fast as the pursued jackrabbit’s. She was glad to have the flowers in her hands, else she’d be wringing them to no end.

  “Madeleine,” he replied softly, a trace of a smile crossing his face. He nodded in Evan’s direction. “I came across Master Evan nearly an hour ago. He’s quite the fountain of knowledge.”

  She sighed. “Evan is much too nosy for his own good, my lord. He’s a wicked little eavesdropper who then blabbers everything
he thinks he knows.” She eyed the nobleman warily and then turned to walk away, uneasy about what Evan might have told him about her. “What did you learn?” she asked lightly.

  He fell into step beside her, and they strolled along the meadow. “Well, I did find out that Osbert is always in a good humor, even if he is the head mummer. Most head mummers have dreadful tempers, you know.”

  Madeleine stared at him in wonder. “What other information did Evan impart to our host?”

  “Oh, only that Hannah and Ruth are terrible flirts and Elspeth and Farley fight all the time—but they don’t mean a word they say. Derwyn does very good magic tricks when he isn’t drinking too much, and Mary lets Evan sneak sweets when no one is looking.”

  She noticed the slight smile on his face as he continued.

  “Also, Jack wants to ask for Mary’s hand in marriage, but he’s afraid Mary’s father wouldn’t approve.” He shrugged. “I’ve forgotten Mary’s father’s name, it seems.”

  “’Tis Ellard,” Madeleine told him.

  “Yes, that’s right. Ellard. And least I forget, Evan knows Edgar has a terrible crush on you but he’d never think to ask you to marry him.”

  Madeleine’s brows shot up. “Why not, my lord? Am I not attractive enough for Edgar?” she asked playfully. “Or mayhap because he’s so old?”

  “Nay. Edgar would be pleased to have you as his wife but it would be disloyal to the memory of his sweet Rosamund. Edgar does not wish to trouble her soul since she watches his every move from heaven.”

  She burst out laughing. “You discovered all this in but one hour?”

  “There was much more but I’ve forgotten the rest. Mostly, we picked flowers for his mother and you and the boy rambled on a bit. He seems to love you both very much.”

  Madeleine began nervously rearranging the bunch in her hands, not sure what to say. She finally remarked, “Are you glad there will be so many strangers trouncing upon the lawns of Stanbury for the summer solstice?”

  Lord Montayne gave her an amused glance. “Better here than Lord Denton’s.”

  “Why is that?”

  “So you won’t be so far away.”