Song of the Heart (Medieval Runaway Wives Book 1)

by Alexa Aston

  “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 parting 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 her everywhere as his tongue mated with hers. Sensations unknown to her rippled through her limbs. An ache began between her legs as a fierce longing swept through her. He feasted on her mouth as she sprang to life.

  He broke the kiss, his lips trailing along her jaw and to her throat, where he licked and nipped. His hand covered her breast, gently squeezing it.

  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 that 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 Fifteen

  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, Lord Montayne 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, devoting 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 the Earl of 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?

  Thank the Just Almighty that she remembered her own marriage vows before things went beyond a kiss. She reminded herself that even if she were not wed, it was a sin for her to be with the nobleman, 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 and a man would naturally side with another man. Lord Montayne must never learn the truth.

  Avoiding him would be next to impossible. He was the lord of Stanbury and might show up anywhere on that property unannounced. Though it pained her, she must end the lessons with Lyssa. That would keep their contact to a minimum. She would also need 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 Lyssa far more than she’d let on. At times, she had secretly thought of Lyssa as her own daughter, reveling in such a fantasy. She felt sorry the girl would be hurt by the situation but Madeleine must avoid Lord Montayne 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 the earl were the happiest she’d known since she’d left her parents 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 belly fluttered again and she moaned softly, longing for him and a life out of reach.

  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 Lyssa 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 close, stroking his hair.

  “It’s not for me to say, Evan. Only God knows.” She hesitated. She was a person who always faced the truth. She’d never been dishonest with Evan and couldn’t 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. “Ale.”

  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 onto the rag.

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

  “No.” Gwenith 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.” She named an estate and said it was along the coast. “Evan is his so
n. 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.”

  “Will this Lord Eversleigh doubt me?”

  Gwenith smiled tiredly. “Nay, Maddie. Evan’s the spitting image of his other three sons and they all take after their papa. He’ll believe ye. Just tell him Gwenith sent ye. And Maddie?” She smiled through her pain, a sad, sweet one of dreams lost. “Tell him I never stopped loving him. My thoughts were with him to the last.”

  With that, she was gone.

  Madeleine took Gwenith’s hand and kissed it tenderly as tears streamed down her cheeks. She held it close until the warmth ebbed and then gently placed it next to Gwenith’s heart. Her own heart now shattered into a thousand pieces. A piece of her had died with Gwenith. But she would do as her friend had asked.

  “I promise you, Gwenith, I will take Evan to his father. If he’ll not have him, then I will care for him always.”

  Madeleine rose and left the tent. Several had gathered outside in the growing gloom. She turned to Osbert. “Tell Farley that Gwenith has passed. We need to seek permission from Lord Montayne to find a spot for her burial. And find Father Kelvin, too. Gwenith must have last rites.”

  Elspeth stepped forward and put an arm around Madeleine. “I’ll get Hannah and Ruth. We’ll help prepare Gwenith.”

  Madeleine shook her head. “No, I must.”

  Elspeth squeezed her arm. “I insist. Ye’re worn to the bone. Find Evan and care for him now. Take him to our tent. Ye’ll both sleep there tonight.”

  The next few days passed in a blur. Father Kelvin presided over the funeral mass and Gwenith’s internment. The faire continued but Farley excused Madeleine from performing until after the burial. Then Edgar came bearing interesting news.

  “Just think, Madeleine. Lord Montayne has asked the mummers to stay on for a week after the faire ends. It’s a house party he’s having, and he’d like us to entertain his guests. It means extra money in all our pockets!”

  Madeleine was still numb from Gwenith’s death and hardly took in Edgar’s news. Nothing seemed of interest to her anymore.

  Then she realized Edgar had said extra money. This would enable her to complete her pledge to Gwenith and see Evan to his father in Sussex. From the channel’s coast, she could sail directly to France. It would be time to forget her sorrows and move on.

  “What kind of money, Edgar?”

  “Well, Farley said it’d all be a bonus we’d be getting, with his lordship paying a goodly amount for us to stay on awhile.”

  “That’s good news, indeed, Edgar,” she said.

  Farley found her soon afterward. “I hear that Edgar already let you in on our good news.” He was beaming. “To be asked to stay for a house party is a great thing, Madeleine. But,” he added, “Lord Montayne especially asked for you to narrate our plays. He said York has a pleasant voice and all but he thought his guests would be amused by a woman acting as troubadour. Are you up to it, Madeleine?”

  Heart heavy, Madeleine knew she could not let Farley and the rest of the mummers down. She owed them too much. “Of course I will do it, Farley.”

  Farley’s face lit up with a warm smile and he wrapped her in a bear hug. “That’s my girl,” he cried. “A mummer puts one foot in front of the other, no matter what the circumstances are.”

  *

  The next day the faire ended. The peddlers moved on with their wares. The crowds dispersed to return to life as they knew it. The troupe’s tents remained at the far edge of the meadow, though, since the mummers had been asked to stay on. They rehearsed several new plays for Lord Montayne’s guests, who began arriving shortly after the faire’s end.

  One afternoon, Lyssa came to play with Evan and began talking excitedly about the changes. “Madeleine, you should see all the people. No one ever visits us, except Ashby. Aga says he’s not a visitor, he’s just a silly man.”

  Madeleine laughed. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Lyssa. Every time I’ve spoken with Sir Ashby he’s been silly, indeed.”

  “But he likes Luke,” Lyssa pointed out, watching her tabby chase the string of yarn Evan trailed behind him.

  “Then Sir Ashby must be a nice man, too.”

  “I miss you coming to the castle, Madeleine,” Lyssa pouted. “Papa said you’re busy.”

  Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Yes, Lyssa, I was caring for—” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard.

  “Evan’s mama.”

  “Yes, Gwenith.” Madeleine’s heart was heavy as she said the name. “She was my very good friend, and I miss her a great deal.”

  Lyssa frowned. “Are you Evan’s new mama?”

  She hesitated. “That’s a difficult question, Lyssa. I am caring for Evan now.”

  “Lyssa! Come play with Luke and me,” Evan called.

  The girl left Madeleine’s side and ran toward the boy and her kitten.

  “Who will be responsible for Evan when the troupe disbands for the winter?”

  Madeleine turned and saw Lord Montayne standing before her. The sun burnished his dark hair until it gleamed. His eyes glowed at her from his tanned face. Her heart lurched at the sight of him.

  Calming her flutters, she quietly answered, “Gwenith asked me to take Evan to his father. I will be doing this after your house party has ended and the troupe moves on.”

  “So you’ll leave the mummers?”

  She nodded. “For a time. It’s important I get Evan to his father.” She watched the two children playing with the kitten, their squeals of delight bringing her momentary happiness. “He’s never met him, you see. It’s an unusual circumstance.”

  “Will the father accept him?” Garrett asked. “I assume he’s a bastard?”

  Madeleine shrugged. “Such an ugly word for so sweet a child.” She met Garrett’s gaze. “Gwenith seemed sure that his father would do right by him.”

  “How will the boy feel, being left in the care of strangers?”

  “You are interested in the feelings of a mummer’s bastard, my lord?”

  “I simply wondered how he’d feel being apart from you, Madeleine. I know how lonely I’ve been without you.” His voice held great tenderness as he took her hand. “You’re all he’s got now.”

  Madeleine tugged at her hand, but Garrett refused to let go. “I must honor Gwenith’s final wish, my lord. Evan should be with his father.” She tugged harder, and he held on even more tightly. “Please give me my hand, my lord. I’m rather attached to it.”

  “So am I,” he replied. He lifted it to his lips and grazed her knuckles before relaxing his hold. She jerked away from him as if he’d scalded her, and he laughed.

  “I have missed you, Madeleine.”

  “And I have missed you not at all, my lord.”

  “Ever the little liar. And whose wife are you today?”

  Madeleine caught her breath in a moment of panic. Then she relaxed, catching the teasing light in his eyes. “I have been many a man’s wife since I was yours, my lord. I think today I’ll be Edgar’s.”

  “And make poor Edgar’s wife in heaven jealous?”

  It amazed her how he remembered such small details. “I’m sure if I make Edgar deliriously happy, he’ll forget all about his dead wife,” she said flippantly.

  Garrett grew suddenly serious. “You’re coming to the keep tonight, Madeleine?”

  “Yes, my lord,” she assured him. “We have been hard at work on several new dramas for your guests.”

  “Good,” he said and turned to go. “I will see you tonight.”

  “Yes, my lord. The entire troupe will be ready to do your bidding. Your guests shall not be disappointed.”

  *

  The castle was aflutter with activity after having gone so long with no guests to speak of. Annie, Lyssa’s nurse, confided in Madeleine how surprised they had been when Garrett announced the upcoming house party.

  “Ye could have knocked me down with a feather, Madelei
ne. I can’t right remember guests for ever so long at Stanbury. Not since the mistress done up and left.”

  “Are there many who’ve come?” she asked.

  “A good twenty or more. Stanbury’s large enough for them, that’s for sure, and ’tis right for the master to start entertaining again. Lady Edith has walked around with a smile on her face for a week.”

  Madeleine thought of the house parties she’d given as the wife of one of the leading champagne merchants in Reims. Of course, they’d all been Henri’s friends and business associates. She’d acted merely as hostess at these affairs but had enjoyed them for as long as they lasted. They broke up the dull routine of her sheltered life and she also had the opportunity to play and sing for those gathered.

  Henri had showed a mix of pride in her accomplishments and yet had rebuffed her in private for not maintaining the high standards of his home. She knew, too, that once the guests made their way back to their own homes that Henri would find some fault so great with her that he would mete out the appropriate “punishment”. It had become standard behavior in their chateau and made her all the more thankful to be away from that prison.

  The mummers would perform every night for the next seven nights at Stanbury. The audience was an eclectic group. Some were wealthy landowners who finagled an invitation once they’d heard those were being issued. Others were past friends of the family and the rest business associates of Lord Montayne’s from London.

  Madeleine overheard Edith lamenting that her dearest childhood friend, Lady Ancil, was too ill to attend, and promised she’d do fifty Our Fathers for that bit of good luck. She’d run away from Henri while they were guests of the Ancils and the noblewoman would have recognized her on the spot.

  The troupe waited each night until the evening meal had been served before they came out. Madeleine usually sang a few songs before the night’s play began. Sometimes she sang a duet with York, which turned out to be quite successful.