Music for My Soul (22 page)

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?” Garrett 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 19

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 and brought his mouth down on hers. His grip tightened on her shoulders as he brought her closer to him.

She had thought their kiss on the rock in the meadow was earth shattering, but this one . . .

The other 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 inched away, 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 in his strong hands. “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
? ‘Twas 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.

She understood his situation was far different, but to take such a colossal step. Then his true meaning 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. “’Twill take much time and probably 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.” He 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—”

“God wants His children to love one another and be happy, Madeleine. You are happy with me?” he asked, hesitation in his voice. “I have a reputation for coldness, though I’ve found in your company I’m all heat and fire.” His eyes blazed with desire.

Madeleine thrilled at his words and couldn’t help but tease him a bit. “You are never cold with me, my lord.” She cocked her head to one side. “Arrogant. Argumentative. Hard-headed perhaps, but never cold.”

He laughed at her words. “You bring out the best in me.” He studied her a moment. “I know you are devoted to God and that it makes you uncomfortable kissing a married man. I promise I won’t kiss you again till I am free.”

Madeleine saw the determination in his eyes. He’d seemed so sad and yet so angry when she’d first met him. She realized how unhappy and lonely he’d been and felt grateful that she’d brought a little bit of sunshine into his life. As long as he promised not to touch her, what harm was there in giving him something to live for, something that renewed his energy and his outlook on life?

Besides, she truly loved this man, loved for the first time ever. The depth of her emotions surprised her. Love for Garrett swept in and filled her heart before she’d known what was happening. She couldn’t imagine being parted from him and wished she could commit to him in body and soul for the rest of their lives.

But Henri lurked in the shadows. Where only minutes ago she’d struggled to move about this room, now her struggle must be to stop this. Now. Before it was too late.

Though this was the only happiness either of them had known in years, she must make Garrett see how impossible a love between them was. She could not let her selfish heart rule her head and give him hope for their love. Would she not do the same thing Lynnette had done by leaving him in the end? It was a cruel ploy.

She must beg God to give her strength to withstand this temptation. Her love for Garrett was too strong. She must put a chance at momentary happiness with him aside, for what if she gave him hope of a future together and then disappeared? She could imagine only too well how he would withdraw from life. If she vanished after pretending they would have a life together, her rejection might break him for good.

She found voice for her brave words, though they rang hollow in her ears. “I am damaged goods, Garrett, a poor troubadour with a limp. I have a regretful past and no future, nothing to offer you. I cannot accept your love.”

The heat in his eyes scared her. Madeleine saw her words only challenged him. He would be resolute in his quest for her. She prayed for strength and hoped God wouldn’t let her down.

He moved toward her, but she placed her hand upon his chest.

“You said no more kisses,” she reminded him.

“Not after this one,” he said and lowered his head to hers one more time.

For the next two months while her leg slowly healed, Garrett held to his promise. He did not kiss her. He longed to every waking moment and dreamed of her at night, but he refused to break his pledge. Though Madeleine did accuse him on more than one occasion of looking at her like a hungry wolf before devouring a sheep.

“I said nothing about looks, Madeleine. I may look at you any way I like. And you may look at me with a certain fondness tomorrow, for I have a surprise to share with you.

“I find I don’t care much for surprises, my lord.”

He smiled at her. “Oh, I think you’ll be happy with this one.”

The next morning he entered her chamber, careful to mask any emotion, his cloak gathered about him.

She cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips. “I suppose you’ve come bearing some gift to take my mind from my worries, my lord. Mayhap you have a sweetmeat or one of Cook’s tarts hidden within the folds of your garment? Go ahead, hand it over and be done with it.”

He moved more closely to where she lay in her bed, propped up with pillows, and opened his cloak.

She drew a sharp breath in, her eyes widening in shock. “My lute!” she cried.

He handed her the instrument and watched the joy spread across her face. She clutched it closely to her breast, her whole body trembling as her eyes glistened with tears.

“And what think you of surprises now?”

She took his hand and kissed it fervently. The heat from her lips scorched his skin. “Oh, my lord, my lord. You don’t know how happy this has made me. This, my most treasured possession, restored to me at last!”

Then the smile died on her lips. He saw anger spark in her eyes as she pushed his hand aside. “You’ve had my lute all this time! Why did you not return it to me? I gave back your cloak, the very one you wear now. What wickedness possessed you to keep my lute from me? Oh, you are as black-hearted as Satan Himself!”

“If you’ll remember, Madeleine, I stumbled upon you at a faire far from Stanbury, never expecting to lay eyes upon you again. And yes, you graciously returned my cloak to me that day, but your beloved instrument was here in my solar. I’d actually put it away for safekeeping, fearing Lissa might discover it and cause some harm.”

He sat down beside her and took back her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. She tugged but he refused to give it up.

“I’m afraid to say I didn’t give your lute a second thought, especially since you played one at each performance of the mummers. ‘Twas only when I stumbled across it that I knew I must return it to you.”

He squeezed her hand. “Tell me you’re pleased at having it once again.”

She stroked the lute’s smooth wood with her free hand. “Yes,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I will forgive you.” She hugged the instrument. “And I shall never let it from my sight again.”

He excused himself, overcome by witnessing her strong emotions. He felt a tightening in his chest, ready to burst as he exited the room.

Knowing that time spent in Madeleine’s company would never be enough, he would continue his search for some trace of Lynnette. He knew the trail his wife had left behind had grown bitterly cold. He worried he would never find where she’d gone.

He
would
find her. He must, or press the bishop for his petition to be granted. For what increased in his heart every day he spent in Madeleine’s company would not cease until he could freely hold the key to her heart without guilt.

Every day Madeleine worked with Lissa on her art and music, and had begun teaching her letters as well. The child caught on quickly and Madeleine found the hours flew by.

They were working so intently that neither of them heard Annie until she appeared before them. “Time for a bath and a bite to eat.”

Lissa frowned but knew better than to protest. She followed Annie through the door, calling back to Madeleine, “I’ll see you on the morrow.”

Madeleine awaited the tray that was brought to her room every night. She often ate alone, savoring the quiet time, sometimes composing new songs in her head. She usually entertained in the Great Hall after the evening meal, so she enjoyed this time spent in solitude.

After finishing a light meal of cold chicken and bread, she heard a rap on the door.

“Come in,” she called, knowing it was Coster. Each night he carried her down the steep stairs, which were much too difficult for her to navigate alone.

The big serf entered the room wearing his usual sheepish grin. “And how’re ye tonight, Madeleine?”

Madeleine welcomed him. “I’m doing well, Coster. How is your daughter feeling?”

Coster gently scooped her up. “’Tis almost time, me wife says. Agnes can’t catch her breath and waddles about like a duck, that she do. That’s a sign, that it is, Madeleine. The babe'll be here afore we know it.”

He walked carefully along the shadowy hallway, his touch as gentle as his ways. Cook teased her unmercifully, saying how Coster was smitten with her, and Madeleine noticed he did blush when she looked him directly in the eye.

The fragrant smell of warm bread mingled with the sweat of the men who’d worked a long day greeted them as they proceeded down the staircase to the Great Hall. Coster brought her across the room to the cushioned stool she sat upon every night as she worked her magic on the crowd.

Madeleine caught Garrett’s eyes upon her, reading the jealousy in them as she rode in the huge arms of his servant. He had offered to bring her down himself each night, but she had told him no, thinking it unseemly for the lord of the manor to wait on her thus in front of his people. She reminded him how, despite his simple ways, Coster had served the Montaynes faithfully going on two score now.

And though she’d tried her best to put distance between them, it gave her a small thrill to see the longing in his eyes as Coster placed her on her feet and then helped seat her.

“I’m off to check on news of the babe,” Coster whispered to Madeleine.

“God be with Agnes,” she replied.

October had just arrived, and Madeleine was grateful she was near the roaring fire. Her fingers were cold, and she warmed them before reaching for her lute. She sang a few songs first, all written since her accident, and they were warmly received, the loud applause causing her cheeks to flame. She hoped those gathered would think it was her nearness to the fire that caused the rosy glow.

“I’d like to tell you tonight of the mighty Roland,” she said as she lay her lute aside.

“’Tis another song, Madeleine?” called out Cook.

“No, though I do know a few songs about him. I’d rather tell you this story instead.”

The group gathered closer around her, anticipation on their faces.

“Once there was a famous king named Charlemagne, king of the Franks. He was a wise and just ruler who loved his people very much. That is why, while he was fighting the Saracens in Spain, he decided to leave, because he received word of some trouble at home.