Music for My Soul (12 page)

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

“O’ course ye can, Madeleine. Ye’ll never run out o’ 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 cleared her plate quickly. Edgar took it from her and refilled it despite her protests. 

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

Madeleine patted his hand in thanks, and Edgar blushed till 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 built up and spilled down her cheeks. She quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

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

Edgar poked Osbert in the ribs. “I said she
might
tell us a tale, you oaf. Only if she wants, o’ 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. “Ye’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, Madeleine 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 till 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. But she was a married woman, and the only running must be to God’s open arms.

She shook off the picture of Garrett that danced in her head. She had to 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. She would handle this, too.

She looked at Royce then, wondering 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 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 eye 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 slyly at her. “I may 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.”

“What mean you, Sir Ashby?”
  “Oh, I hope I haven’t let the cat from the bag.” He rolled his eyes and began whistling.

“My lord?” she asked, narrowing her gaze at him.

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. “But that’s not correct, my lord. We are to leave in two day’s 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, my dear. How is Gwenith today?” he asked pleasantly.

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

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

“So ‘tis Stanbury we visit next?”

“Yes, indeed.”

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

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

Chapter 11

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, tousled—hair 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 presented him with a quick curtsy then swept the flowers up, inhaling their sweet scent. “I shall treasure them.”

“O’ 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.”

Madeleine 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 Garrett warily and then turned to walk away, uneasy about what Evan might have told him about her. “And what did you learn?” she asked lightly.

Garrett 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. “And 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.”

Madeleine noticed the slight smile on Garrett’s 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.” Garrett 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 raised her brows slightly. “And why not, my lord? Am I not attractive enough for him?” 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.”

Madeleine burst out laughing. “And 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 he 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, “So, are you glad there will be so many strangers trouncing upon the lawns of Stanbury for the summer solstice?”

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

“And why is that?”

“So you won’t be so far away.”

Madeleine quickly picked up the pace, her braid bouncing against her back. Garrett sped up and caught her elbow.

“Did my declaration make you uncomfortable?”

Madeleine stopped and studied him. His dark hair fell across his brow, the slight breeze giving it a tousled look. His brown eyes glittered, framed by long lashes. Chiseled cheekbones and a firm mouth completed the picture. She found her own mouth had gone dry, so handsome was he to look upon.

She recovered quickly, however, and said, “Of course it did, my lord. I am nothing to you, and I intend to remain nothing to you. I am not a woman of easy virtue, despite my mummer’s status. The loose reputation that actors hold is totally undeserved. I would ask that you keep that in mind.”

She moved to go, but he still held her elbow clasped firmly in his hand. She tugged. He refused to let go. “Kindly let go of me, good sir, or you will regret it.”

A knowing look came into Garrett’s eyes. “And what would you do, Madeleine?” he asked tauntingly.

Before she could think of something totally outrageous that would embarrass or defy him, a young girl appeared before them.

“Papa?”

The girl was younger than Evan, and had dark, wavy hair that fell just below her shoulders and dark, inquisitive eyes. Her complexion was milky white, with rosy blooms on each cheek, her mouth a pink rosebud. She reached out her arms toward Garrett.

Immediately, he released Madeleine and lifted the child up, kissing her soundly upon each cheek. The girl giggled and squirmed, and he placed her back down upon the ground.