Song of the Heart (Medieval Runaway Wives Book 1)

by Alexa Aston

  “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 praised 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, closing the door behind him.

  “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,” she mused.

  Finally finding herself alone now, her first thought was to check her tunics, which lay across the back of the chair next to the bed. She tossed back the bedclothes and struggled from the bed to the chair, groaning as the pain flared. Heaving herself into it, she fingered the hems of her tunics. Panic seared through her.

  The jewels were gone.

  “No,” she whispered. “That cannot be.”

  Her fingers searched without success. Someone had discovered her hidden treasures and taken them. The tunics were clean, so she knew they had been taken to be washed while she slept.

  Which of Garrett’s servants had discovered her secret stash? The hems appeared intact so whoever had found the gems had not only claimed the jewels but repaired the stitches, as well. Tears welled in her eyes as an ache filled her, a hurt so deep it was as if someone had run a sword through her.

  She was in no position to seek out the person who had stolen her jewels. She had barely made it from the bed to this chair and dreaded having to return to the bed again. Madeleine forced herself to do so, however. As she lay there, she realized no one would have the audacity to steal under Garrett’s roof.

  Fear encircled her heart as she realized it could only be the Earl of Montayne who had discovered her cache. She was already at his mercy, being unable to leave with the mummers because of her injuries. Now would not be the time to confront him in her weakened state. Once she healed, though, she would have to brave facing him and demand that he return the gems to her. They were her property and would allow her to journey with Evan to Lord Eversleigh, as well as give her the means to continue to survive in England.

  For now, Madeleine decided she would play ignorant and bide her time.

  *

  Lord Montayne 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 countess 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 for a child’s happiness.” 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. Lyssa 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.

  Madeleine began Lyssa’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. The earl, true to his word, made sure his men kept the boy busy there. For his part, Evan seemed to adore being around the horses. He did come and sleep with her every night, though.

  “I’m used to 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. I’ll be here to help protect ye.”

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

  Of course, Lyssa became jealous and also wanted to sleep with her. They’d had quite a time convincing the girl 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 worked 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.

  A light rap sounded on the door and it opened quietly. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the Earl of Montayne 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.

  He entered the room and closed the door. Concern for her was written on his features.

  “Should you be trying to walk, Madeleine? It’s a bit early, don’t you think?”

  She shook her head fiercely. “Nay, I must!” she insisted. “It’s important that I move about. It helps to heal more quickly.”

  Concentrating on each step as she moved slowly and deliberately toward the bed, she swung the damaged leg stiffly along. She glanced up and saw him watching her, a pained expression on his face. He looked as if he were 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 absurd 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. These turns around the room always left her drained. She wished her ho
st would leave for she had no wits about her now. Still, he’d stayed away for a long time and she thought to question him why.

  “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, knowing how Henri had referred to the English earl. “I’ve heard said 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. She dried her cheeks, though, 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 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 as he spoke his former lover’s name.

  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 Lady Eversleigh found out about Gwenith 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 the coming babe.”

  “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 the nobleman so desperately wanted.

  Eversleigh remained that way for several minutes before raising his head. “Thank you for being her friend. 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 of 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 Evan 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 Lyssa pushed her door wide, bounding in as only the young can.

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

  “Yes, Evan, Lord Eversleigh is very nice. I think you’ll have a wonderful time living in Sussex.”

  Evan glanced quickly at his father and then said, “Papa said ye could come with us. Will ye, 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 ye 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 ye look like, Maddie. I’m forgetting what Mama looked like already. I don’t want to forget ye, 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?”

  “Of course.” He scrambled toward the door, followed by Lyssa, his ever-present shadow. “I’ve got to tell me 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.

  As he headed toward the bed, he heard her murmur, “You’re my own little love, Evan, the only child I’ll ever have. I will love you always.”

  “What do you mean by that?” he demanded.

  She lifted a reddened, tearstained face to him. “What?” she asked, obviously startled to see him.

  “You are a young woman, Madeleine, not more than three and twenty. Surely you’ll have many children.”

  She shook her head vehemently. “No, no, I haven’t been good enough to deserve children.”

  Puzzled by her strange comment, Garrett eased down on the bed next to her and took her hands in his. “You are one of the kindest souls I know, Madeleine.”

  She squared her shoulders. “No, my lord, you don’t really know me at all. I’ve done things I could tell no one about, especially you. But God knows—and I will make it up to Him.” She slipped her hands from his and brushed the tears from her cheeks.

  He shrugged. “All you need to do is confess, Madeleine, and then get on with your life.” He thought of the scars she bore, sure that she’d been the one sinned against.

  “No, my lord. I have thought of a way that will please God and solve all my problems.”

  He waited patiently for her to elaborate.

  “I intend to enter a convent.”

  Garrett grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, as if to knock some sense into her. “What? You can’t. I won’t let you.”

  “Don’t you see you are one of the reasons I must do this?” she asked him, the pain evident in her voice.

  “I won’t let you go, Madeleine.” He took a deep breath. “I love you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Madeleine froze at his words. No man had ever told her this. She was stunned at the depth of emotion that raced through her trembling body.

  Garrett released his grip on her shoulders and loomed over her, inches away, his eyes intense, willing her to keep looking at him, only at him, and nothing else.

  “I love you,” he repeated softly, his large palms cradling her face as he brought his mouth down on hers.

  She had thought their kiss atop the rock in the meadow was earth-shattering but it paled in comparison to this one. The first had started gently and built, while this
one began possessively and became more so. She could feel the passion pouring from Garrett into her—and she responded to his call. His assault on her mouth was rough and tender at the same time, savage yet sweet. Emotions unfamiliar to her came in wave after wave, as an invading army would, never letting up. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t imagine being anywhere, except in his arms.

  How could something so wrong feel so right? Why had she been denied these feelings her entire life? Why had God so cruelly coupled her with an old man full of spite and hate when there were good men like Garrett to be found?

  He finally released her and she instinctively moved back toward him. He chuckled, a low, soft laugh, one that held satisfaction even as his eyes glowed with triumph.

  “You will not enter a convent, Madeleine.” He cupped her face again in his strong hands, as if the need to touch her superseded all others. “Where do you think I’ve been these last two weeks?” he asked softly. “I went to see the bishop. He knows Lynnette deserted me years ago. I have petitioned for a divorce on grounds of abandonment.”

  His words shattered Madeleine to her core. Divorce? The notion was almost unheard of, and only then used by men who locked barren wives away in a convent and sought freedom from their vows in order to marry a fertile woman. Then understanding struck her with great force.

  He did this for her. For them. Garrett wanted a life with her. With her!

  He rubbed his callused thumb across her smooth cheek. “It will take much time and more than a healthy donation to the bishop’s coffers but then we’ll marry, sweetheart. No convent for you. You were made to be loved . . . by me alone.”

  Garrett kissed her again, this time a sweet, tender kiss, sealing his pledge to her. “I’ve never truly loved another, Madeleine,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “Never.”

  Her tears fell at his words and before she could stop herself she replied, “I love you, Garrett, with all my heart.”

  “And never another man?” he asked, his tone serious.

  She shook her head. “Nay, I’ve loved no other.” She wiped at her tears. “But we cannot do this, Garrett, ’tis wrong of us. God would—”