Song of the Heart - Alexa Aston Page 0,17

the city’s gates. She had spent most of the day searching for news of ships departing for France. She had finally secured passage on one that would sail within hours. The high price surprised her but she would have sold all her jewels and paid all she had to reach home, if only for a little while.

She knew her parents would be shocked to see her but she would make them understand what she’d been through. She loved them more than anything on God’s earth. She would explain how cruel Henri had been to keep her apart from them. Then her brother would help arrange for her to enter a convent.

Madeleine knew true liberation lay almost within her grasp. She had traveled many back roads to reach London. She wanted no more encounters with Lord Montayne. He’d mentioned having business in the city and she knew he would be meeting at some point with Henri. The thought chilled her. Lord Montayne seemed a very clever man. What if he figured out who she was? Would he tell Henri?

She took her small bundle and held it more tightly to her, even as she tugged the black cloak around her. She had remorse for having taken such a fine garment. She had not meant to but things had happened so quickly at the smith’s house that she had not realized she still had it about her when she’d put her plan into motion.

She wondered idly if there was a way to return it to Lord Montayne, perhaps with a note thanking him for his kindness.

Suddenly she was rooted to the spot. No, it couldn’t be. Dread filled her as she stared at the man not twenty paces in front of her, his back to her as he conversed with another man. The bald pate. The portly, barrel-shaped body. The all-black clothes that Henri insisted every one of his servants wear.

The man gestured as he spoke, and she caught a glimpse of his face in profile.

Madeleine’s gut clinched in fear.

Bertrand. Why was he on the wharf? It was far too early for Henri to be returning to France.

It didn’t matter, she told herself. If Bertrand was here, then Henri could be, too. What if they were taking the same ship as she? How could she steer clear of them?

Madeleine fought the growing sense of panic and the wild urge to run. Instead, she remained calm despite her pounding heart. Turning, she hastened in the opposite direction along the dock at a brisk pace, in spite of her limp, even as she heard Bertrand and the man he spoke with coming her way. She turned abruptly, ducking behind a stack of cartons placed haphazardly and waited, not daring to breathe or even look up.

The men paused directly in front of the boxes that concealed her.

Bertrand spoke, his English flawless, though colored with his native French accent. “So you see, Monsieur de Picassaret is anxious to find his wife. He will pay a great deal to have her returned to him safely.”

The other man grunted. “I’m sure she’s the one but she gave a different name. Your description is too close not to be the same woman.”

Madeleine heard the shifting of papers. “Yes, here it is. She’s listed as Bouchard. Madeleine Bouchard. Sailing on the evening tide tonight.”

Merde! But there was no time to spout Our Fathers as penance. She must hear what else that snake said about her.

Bertrand snorted. “Her family’s name. Nevertheless, she is my master’s wife.”

“What shall we do when she boards?”

“Let her suspect nothing. Simply post a man outside her cabin. Confine her there until I arrive with additional help.”

“And if for some odd reason the woman is not whom you seek?”

“I have paid for several men to watch the harbor. If she seeks passage on any ship from London, I will know of it.”

“Very good,” replied the other man.

Madeleine waited as the men shuffled off in the opposite direction. Her heart sank. Tears spilled silently down her cheeks. What was she to do? She could not board that ship, nor could she reclaim the vast sum the captain had charged to take her as a passenger.

She huddled on the ground, her growing despair clouding her mind. She tried to think of a new escape plan but fear drove all rational thought from her mind. The bitter taste of defeat began closing in.

She was startled when a young boy rounded the corner and ran smack into her. His eyes widened first

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