by Alexa Aston
“I see,” said the man, a glimmer in his eyes. “Well, as I said, I’ve given her something for the pain. She’ll sleep deeply for many hours, mayhap even through the night. ’Twould be good if someone could stay with her.”
“I’ll arrange it. Thank you.”
The physician hesitated a moment. “I will check her on the morrow, but I leave midmorning with Lord Marbury.”
Garrett watched the doctor leave and then turned to stare at Madeleine’s still form.
Marbury’s physician had no reason to lie to him yet Garrett found it hard to understand what he’d heard about Madeleine. Doubts lingered. Surely the man exaggerated.
Knowing he shouldn’t pry, he couldn’t resist. He had to know if the physician had spoken the truth. He cared too deeply for this woman. He had to see for himself.
He moved closer to the bed and eased back the sheet. As if in a dream, he gently rolled Madeleine to her side and lifted her tunics, inching them up slowly. With every move of the cloth, he saw the scars on her milky white flesh. Some were deeply embedded. Others appeared pink, much more recent. Some seemed as if they had been burned into her flesh, others cut into it. Garrett had seen many types of wounds on the battlefield but the purposeful torture of an innocent woman sickened him.
He continued to raise her skirts. Her back and buttocks were also marred. His pulse pounded in outrage at the thought of Madeleine’s tormenter. Garrett put her clothing back into place, smoothing the fabric as best he could.
He returned Madeleine to her back and she made a few small whimpers in her sleep as he recovered her.
In utter shock, Garrett knelt on the floor next to her. What kind of animal could do this to another human being? Savagely beating or burning her until she was so disfigured?
He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. What kind of suffering had Madeleine endured? For how many years? What fiend had attacked her over and over? His gut said she’d been on the run when he’d met her, trying to protect herself from her abuser. Had it been fate that she’d chosen Garrett’s name?
A white-hot anger blanketed him. If her abuser had appeared before him at that moment, he would have killed the man with a single blow. He tried to calm the fury that seared through every pore of his body, causing him to tremble violently. Anger wouldn’t help Madeleine now.
When he was a child, Ryker used to beat his mother often. He still remembered his feelings of helplessness when Edith came to the table the next day, her face a mass of bruises, her body moving stiffly. He’d hated Ryker for many things, but especially for this.
Garrett leaned over and pressed a tender kiss upon Madeleine’s brow. He took her hand and held it to his cheek, oblivious to the tears that fell down his face.
He whispered, “I swear, Madeleine, that I will protect you from whomever did this. You will be safe with me.”
He then bowed his head and wept.
Chapter Seventeen
She knew she’d angered him. The signs were many. The cold, calculating stare. The set of his mouth. Even his stance. She knew what was coming.
She ran, lurching first down the tower steps, then out of the chateau. If she could reach the vineyards, she’d be safe. Crossing the inner bailey she passed curious glances, but she had no time to stop. From the outer bailey, she found the gate already raised. She called for the bridge to be lowered. It fell and she hobbled across.
The vineyard lay beyond, its lush, green vines calling to her. She could hide there. Hide from the anger, hide from the shame, but most importantly, hide from the punishment that awaited her if she were caught.
She rounded the corner and froze.
Henri stood between her and freedom, his arrogant smirk chilling her to the bone.
“Did you think you could escape punishment, Madeleine?” He reached for her and she screamed.
*
“Madeleine? What is it—the pain?”
Her eyes flew open at the man’s soft words. Her vision was slightly blurred and she blinked several times trying to bring things into focus. She did not recognize her surroundings. She did, though, recognize the familiar agony.
Suddenly, she felt pressure on her shoulders and tried to throw off the hands holding her down.
“Madeleine!”
The voice was commanding, causing her to cease her struggles. Gently, she was pushed back into soft pillows.
Then she saw Garrett hovering over her, concern written across his tired features.
“Shall I call the physician again? Do you need something for your pain?”
What was going on? Henri had punished her, she was sure of it, her throbbing aches told her as much. So how had Garrett come to be at Chateau Maraine?
Then the events of earlier that day came rushing back to her. The sudden storm. Luke in the tree. The limb crashing down. The icy water. She breathed a small sigh of relief, knowing she was at Stanbury. Henri was only a ghost of a memory. For once, he was not the cause of her misery. The pain was of her own making.
“Madeleine? Shall I call for the doctor?”
She looked up again at Garrett’s troubled face and was surprised at his distress.
“No, my lord, do not send for a doctor. Save your money and mine. I have managed pain before. It’s an old friend.” She made an effort to smile. “Are the children all right? Did Luke manage to survive his first thunderstorm?”
Garrett expelled a long breath. “Both Lyssa and Evan, as well as that mangy beast, are perfectly fine. You,” he continued softly, “are not, I’m afraid.”
He slipped his hand around her limp wrist, his thumb massaging it lightly. The sweet gesture brought her comfort despite her misery. “Your leg is broken, Madeleine,” he told her.
“I know.”
He looked at her quizzically. “The doctor said it’s not the first time something has happened to that leg.”
Madeleine knew he wanted her to fill in the blanks of her story but she remained silent.
After a moment, he shrugged and continued. “You will require much rest before you are up and about. My mother and Annie have promised to take good care of you. Mother even brought one of her chemises for you to wear.” He smiled at her. “The lilac sets off your eyes nicely.”
Panic suddenly coursed through Madeleine. Her jewels were sewn into her clothing. “My clothes!” she cried. “Where are my tunics?”
He leaned down and picked up her wet tunics and dropped them back onto the floor. “I’ll have them washed for you.”
“No!” she cried vehemently. “I must do that myself.” She leaned across him and tried to reach for the tunics but the pain flared. With a soft cry, she fell back onto the pillows.
“Do not concern yourself with the task, Madeleine. It will be done for you.”
She gritted her teeth. “Would you please hand them to me, my lord?”
He frowned but did as she requested. She held the tunics close, afraid to let them out of her sight. “I will take care of it myself.”
Garrett sighed. “Whatever you say.”
She sat brooding for a moment and then abruptly said, “I must return to the mummers, my lord.”
“Why?” he exploded. “You can’t even walk now, Madeleine. You may not walk for months. I can’t let you.”
“What did you say?” Icy fear filled her.
“You must stay at Stanbury, Madeleine. Farley’s mummers will go to their next stop, but you need time to heal.”
“Will it truly take that long to recover?”
Garrett gave her hand a quick squeeze. “The physician only said it will take time, that’s all. You may stay here as long as you like. If you’re worried about your keep, you may give Lyssa more lessons while you recover.”
“I would enjoy spending more time with Lyssa. But what of Evan, my lord? Gwenith gave him to my care. I had planned on taking him to his father, Lord Eversleigh in Sussex, when the mummers left Stanbury on the morrow.”
She clasped his hand tightly. “Is there
any way Evan can remain here until I can honor Gwenith’s last wish? He could help in the stables or the kitchen, mayhap?”
Garrett placed his free hand atop hers, patting gently. “Master Evan is as welcome as you, Madeleine. I’m sure I can find something for him to do to keep him from mischief.”
“Then you would be the first, my lord.”
She gave him a smile but found her eyes drifting shut as relief washed over her. Her last conscious thought was she and Evan were safe.
Thanks to Lord Montayne.
*
Garrett reached to pick the wet clothes off the bed now that Madeleine had fallen asleep. He started to lay them across the chair to dry.
“That’s odd,” he said to himself. Although they were still damp, the garments were unusually heavy. He slipped his hand around them until he reached the hem of her skirts. Hard lumps lay within the layers.
He ripped open the hem and several pieces of jewelry fell to the floor. A sapphire bracelet caught his eye. He could not be mistaken. The piece matched the ring Madeleine had sold for Gwenith’s care, the one he’d bought from the old jeweler.
He tore at all the hems until the tunics were empty, then bent and examined the precious gems sparkling on the floor. Diamonds. Rubies. Emeralds. More sapphires. He spied three rings, two more bracelets, and a necklace, all of excellent quality.
They had to be worth a small fortune. No wonder she’d been so concerned about her tunics. Where had Madeleine gotten such priceless pieces? He refused to believe she was a thief. She seemed too good, too kind.
A thought struck him. Did they belong to the man who’d hurt her? Had she taken them as revenge? In order to escape? Or was she the noblewoman she’d so vehemently denied?
Garrett placed the clothes over the chair but kept the jewels for safekeeping. He sent Annie in to sit with Madeleine before heading to his own chamber, all the while wondering about the mystery that was Madeleine Bouchard.
*
Farley’s booming voice awakened Madeleine the next morning. She groaned. Every bone she possessed felt stiff. Her leg throbbed painfully, feeling as if liquid fire had been poured upon it. She thanked God with a quick prayer that a true physician had helped her this time. She had a much better chance of healing properly.
Farley burst into the room seconds later, Elspeth trailing behind him. She took one look at Madeleine and burst into a brogue so thick, no one for three hundred miles could have understood her. She flew to Madeleine’s side and kissed her hands, her cheek, her brow, and the hands again, tears flowing freely from her.
“So you did this over a wee kitten?” Farley growled.
“It would seem so,” Madeleine replied meekly. “Though who knew the branch would break, taking me with it.” She was still groggy, but she found it easier to get her words out this morning than last night.
“Well, we’ll miss you, girl. When you can travel, know you’ll always have a place with us.”
Madeleine was moved by his words. “I thank you, Farley. If it’s meant to be, I’ll return to you.” She was saddened by the look on his face. “You do have York.”
“York?” Farley snorted. “He’s a handsome lad with an aversion to work. I guess I’ll make do with him for now.” He frowned down at her. “Are you in much pain, Madeleine?”
She didn’t want to worry him. “There’s some, but not more than I would expect.”
Elspeth straightened, her tears beginning to subside. “Lord Montayne says ye’re to remain here until ye’re well. Evan, too.” She stroked Madeleine’s arm. “You’ll be missed, Madeleine. Ye, Evan, and that precious Gwenith.”
Elspeth stood, wiping the remaining tears on her sleeve. “Must be on the way now. Had to come and say our goodbyes.”
Madeleine bit her lower lip, losing her battle with tears. “You took me in. You did so much for me. I’ll miss you both.”
“We’ll miss you, too.” Farley sniffed loudly. “Must be on our way, though.”
He and Elspeth took their leave, passing the richly dressed physician as he entered the chamber. His face was lined with deep furrows, as if he frowned from sunrise to sunset.
“Good morn,” he said brusquely. “I’ve come to see you before I leave with Lord Marbury. We travel back to London, you know. My lord is quite close to our king.”
Madeleine assumed by his air that he looked down upon attending a lowly mummer but he had done a competent job. He examined her briefly, seeming to be satisfied with what he found. “I’ve left some herbs for you. A creature named Annie has them. She’s gone to fetch you something to break your fast. Be sure to stay off the leg as much as possible.”
“Sir?”
Madeleine knew she must confirm what Garrett had mentioned. “Will it be months before I walk again?”
He shook his head slowly. “That, I cannot say. Only time and prayer will give you that which you seek. I bid you good day.” He quickly exited the room.
Annie returned soon afterward, helping Madeleine to relieve herself and then trying to feed her.
“Annie, I’m not totally helpless. Please, let me feed myself. I’m not a babe in this bed, but a grown woman.”
“I would think ye a child after going up the tree after a mongrel.”
Madeleine sighed. “It was important to Lyssa. You cannot tell me that you yourself wouldn’t be a fool over that sweet child.”
Annie softened. “Aye, I do see yer point,” she amended. “I’m sorry ye’re hurt so badly.”
“Maddie!”
Evan rushed into the room, flinging himself onto the bed, rattling dishes and tipping over Madeleine’s broth. She knew not which hurt worse, the blinding pain in her leg or the spilled broth that burned her side.
“Child! Get up at once!” Annie chided.
Evan stubbornly shook his head, refusing to listen. “Me Maddie needs me, Annie. I cannot leave her now.”
His face was so earnest even Annie could not stay mad at him for long.
Madeleine grimaced and shifted slightly. She hadn’t the heart to reprimand him. She could see the worry and fear in his eyes. He’d just lost his mother. She knew he was scared of losing her, too.
Annie clucked her tongue. “Very well, little boy. Ye can stay a few minutes, then it’s nothing but quiet that’ll come from this chamber.”
The servant replaced the wet coverlet with a dry one and took the dishes out, giving them a bit of privacy.
Evan waited until Annie left. “Oh, ye look bad, Maddie. There’s a big bruise here and a little one there,” he added, touching her brow and cheek. “What are we to do now?”
“Lord Montayne has said we may stay here for the present. When I am well, you and I are to journey to your father’s house.”
Evan’s eyes grew wide at the thought. “I have a father?” His excitement quickly changed to doubt. “Mama never said that.”
Madeleine laughed. “We all have fathers, Evan. Yours just happens to live in Sussex. His name is Lord Eversleigh.”
Evan pondered this information. “So my papa’s a lord?”
“Yes,” Madeleine said. “But he’s a wife and three other sons, Evan. Your mama was not his married wife but she loved him very much, nonetheless.”
Madeleine placed her arm around Evan. He curled up next to her. “Your mama hoped Lord Eversleigh would make you a stable boy at his home. Would you like that, Evan?”
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, “That’s not necessary, Madeleine. I wrote to Eversleigh this morning about the boy. But where did you learn how to write?”
Chapter Eighteen
Madeleine glared at Garrett as he stood in the doorway. The man eavesdropped with mor
e ease than Evan, she thought, steeling herself for the coming conversation.
Evan scampered over to him and hugged his leg.
“You wrote my papa, me 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 Lyssa was looking for you.”
“I’m going to tell her about me 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.
She lay helplessly in the bed, trapped for another inquisition.
Evan ran over to her, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “Got to go, Maddie,” he said and ran from the room.
As Garrett strode confidently toward the bed, she forced herself not to squirm as he said, “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, first betrothed died, second betrothed died, third betrothed kicked in the head by a mule and 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.”
