Song of the Heart - Alexa Aston Page 0,13

her name. Learn why she pretended to be his wife.

He broke out into a full run toward the cottage then slowed to an awkward trot as his sore body protested the sudden movement. He rounded the back of the cottage, searching in both directions.

She wasn’t there.

Quickly, he raced back to the front, slamming straight into Ashby as he came around the corner.

“What’s the matter, Garrett? Lose something? Or someone?”

Garrett brushed him aside and burst into the thatched bungalow. He growled low in his throat, storming about the tiny space, lifting a stool and tossing it aside, pushing the straw mattress around with his foot, then picking up a dish and catching himself before he sent it slamming to the ground.

Ashby entered and watched his antics.

Garrett shook his head. “Not a trace of her, Ash. She’s gone.”

By now, both the smith and his wife had followed them inside. The couple exchanged frightened looks.

Garrett could only imagine how he must appear as he tried to control his rage. He felt the familiar pounding at his temples and could feel heat rise to his face. “There was a lady with us,” he said evenly, through gritted teeth.

“I spoke to no lady, my lord,” the wife insisted, shaking her head slowly.

“Then where has she disappeared to?” he mused aloud. He paused and then suddenly chuckled, in spite of the situation. “And with my favorite cloak!”

Chapter Four

Ashby watched Garrett leave the small confines of the cottage to restlessly pace the yard in front of the barn, his hands behind his back. Ashby knew well enough to leave his friend alone for the time being. Garrett always needed solitude when he mulled over issues that troubled him.

The beautiful stranger was definitely something that troubled his friend.

The entire adventure had brought Ashby a powerful thirst. “About that ale, madam?” he asked the smith’s wife, his usual smile doing the trick.

“Coming right up, my lord,” she responded quickly.

Soon, he’d inhaled several pieces of bread and cheese and drunk more than a good share of ale. Ashby peered out the doorway of the cottage. Garrett still wore a deep frown but his pacing had slowed. It was safe to approach him once again.

Taking a fresh mug and a plate of food toward the barn, he approached his friend. “Need a respite from your pacing, my lord?” he inquired. “You’ve worn a trench into the ground.”

Garrett turned to him. Seeing the mug, he reached for it and quaffed its contents. Ashby took it from him and had it refilled. When he returned again, Garrett had moved near the horses, seating himself on a bale of hay just inside the barn. Ashby went to him and handed him the second cup of ale and the plate.

Seating himself beside Garrett, he asked, “Do you really think she was a lady?”

Garrett exhaled loudly and sipped on the ale before replying. “Yes, Ash, I’m certain of that. She held herself as one and had the demeanor of one highborn. No common thief or whore could ever match her bearing. It’s in the blood and can’t be imitated.”

Garrett drank again from the cup. “Her speech, too, was refined. She spoke the King’s English very precisely, even better than you or I, as if she’d spent time at court. Her dress was well-cut, her hands soft, except for calluses on the tips. I noticed that when she grabbed at my hand a time or two when the road became rough.”

Ashby nodded. “Possibly because she plays her lute often.”

His friend roared with satisfied laughter. “Yes, her lute,” Garrett said, a smug smile upon his face.

Ashby looked over at the horses. Still tied to his mount was the lady-in-question’s instrument. He smiled, too. “You both have something the other desires.”

Garrett nodded. “I would have that cloak back. It’s the warmest one I own. I almost didn’t bring it since spring is upon us but I changed my mind at the last moment. A lute for a cloak? If I catch the chit, I’ll return her lute—after I smack her bottom with it—and take pleasure in doing so.”

Ashby grinned at the image Garrett painted. “Would you dare hurt your own wife?” he asked, not masking his amusement.

“Egads! Could you believe the audacity of that creature, Ash? Claiming to be married to me?”

Ashby chuckled. “It was a smart ploy on her part, Garrett. Since Ryker’s death, you do own the blackest reputation in these parts, even if I know it’s all for show. The woman was clever enough to throw