out a name that would stop most men in their tracks. Do you think she is from this area?”
“I doubt it. It’s just a feeling I have, but if she were, I’m sure we would have heard of her beauty. Why, if I’d met her, I might never . . .” His voice trailed off.
“. . . have married Lynnette,” Ashby finished.
A scowl darkened Garrett’s face. Ashby wished he could take back his words as Garrett threw his cup to the ground, banging his toe in the process. An oath escaped his lips.
“Let us be off, Ash. I tire of this place.” Garrett stalked to the cottage, likely to pay the smith for his work and their meal.
“And look what damage your marriage to Lynnette did you, my friend,” Ashby said sadly to himself. “You are no longer the carefree Garrett of old.”
He sighed and mounted his horse. Garrett strode from the cottage and threw himself into the saddle. Spurring on their horses, they quickly shot out of the yard and toward London.
*
Madeleine finally released her sneeze, blowing hay upward with great force. Her nose had burned and itched since she had shoveled the mounds of hay on top of her. Several times, she feared she would sneeze and reveal her position to her rescuers. Fortunately, they left without guessing she’d hid under their very noses as they discussed her. The thought made her groan aloud.
Why, of all the people she could have met on the road to London, did it have to be Lord Montayne? She could have met thieves or murderers, loners or secret lovers, even a wild animal or two. No, she had to come across the one man, other than Henri, that could jeopardize her plans, ruining them before she’d even had a chance at escaping England.
Lady Montayne, indeed! Why had the man allowed her to continue her charade? Oh, yes, he was Sir Garrett, simply a knight ready to aid a lady in distress. She wished that Henri had never mentioned doing business with the man. It would have been better if she’d simply pulled a name from the air, rather than a potential business associate of Henri’s.
She sat up abruptly, brushing hay from her hair, and sneezed again. She tried to stand but became entangled in the cloak—his favorite cloak—and promptly fell back into the pile again. The sweet rush from the hay filled her nostrils, causing them to tingle. Another loud sneeze escaped.
Madeleine attempted to stand again. She succeeded this time and exited the shed.
The smith’s wife rushed up to her. “Oh, my lady, he was an angry one, that dark devil!”
“Yes,” Madeleine agreed. “I owe you my life, good woman.” She took the older woman’s hands in hers and squeezed them gently. “You are a brave woman for standing up to him as you did.”
She relaxed for the first time since she’d left Henri. “He’s mad that his heiress fled his clutches,” she continued. “Now I hope that he will drown in his debts and have to marry an ugly second cousin.”
She and the smith’s wife giggled companionably and headed for the cottage. The woman tied a handkerchief filled with a wedge of sharp cheese, an apple, and a generous slice of bread.
“Best be on your way, my lady. I’d hate for you to run into the likes of that one again.”
Madeleine nodded in agreement. “I would like to avoid the two gentlemen. I’m sure you understand. I thought first about going to my brother in London but I’m afraid they might spot me before I reach him.” She paused and then added, “I have an uncle who lives just southeast of London. Mayhap you could tell me which road to take to seek him out?”
The smith’s wife gladly explained to Madeleine the best passage to take then she headed north again, waving goodbye. Best to take her time and avoid both London and Lord Montayne for now. He was the last person she wanted to see. She would take a day or two and enjoy her newfound freedom and then make her way to the famous city and its waterfront. Her only trip there with Henri had been short and far from pleasurable. Perhaps this time would be different.
The sun had now fully risen. Warm sunshine melted into her, and she slipped the cloak off, draping the heavy fabric over her arm. The loss of her beloved lute saddened her. Mayhap she could trade the cloak for another instrument. She stopped