Song of the Heart - Alexa Aston Page 0,41
she had none of her own, she was good with children. Kneeling beside Lyssa, she asked, “Have you ever been to a faire, Lyssa?”
The child lifted one eye away from her father’s leg and peeked at Madeleine. “No,” she whispered and planted her face firmly back into his knee.
“Well, it’s time you went to one. I know for a fact that your papa had this faire come to Stanbury especially for you.”
Once more Lyssa peeped out. “He did?” She continued watching with wide eyes.
“Of course he did. Your papa loves you very much, Lyssa. Why, of all the little girls in England, your papa has the reputation of loving you the very most.”
“Really?” The girl’s head was now totally lifted from Garrett’s knee.
“Yes, everyone knows that, you silly goose.” Madeleine smiled at her.
“I’m not a goose,” Lyssa said stubbornly, her bottom lip sticking out.
“You could pretend to be one,” Madeleine told her. “All you have to do is think like a goose—and quack!”
She folded her hands under her and bent her arms, making a motion up and down as if she had wings. She hobbled along and began quacking, softly at first, and then louder as Lyssa began playing along.
“Come, now, you can’t just quack like one, Lyssa, you’ve got to act like one, too.”
Soon, she and the young girl were moving along the ground, honking and squawking, their arms flapping up and down.
“Papa, Papa, you have to quack, too.”
Lord Montayne shook his head. “No, sweet girl, an earl does not go about quacking in public.”
Lyssa’s bottom lip poked out again. “Then don’t be an earl.”
He looked around. The closest people were on the far side of the meadow, well out of earshot. Still, he hesitated.
Madeleine looked at him pleadingly. “Please?” she mouthed.
He squatted down. “I’ll stop being an earl. Just for a few minutes,” he told his daughter.
The earl made the best bird of all, his squawks and honks loud and very obnoxious.
“You sound very much like the real thing, my lord,” Madeleine told him.
“He’s not a lord,” Lyssa said. “He’s a goose.”
He groaned and quacked one last time. “This goose must stand, Lyssa,” he said and rose to his feet. He then held out his hands to them and they both stood, too.
“I’m afraid I sound so real that someone will want to cook me.”
Lyssa smiled at him and took his hand in hers. She placed her free one in Madeleine’s. “Can we see the faire now, Papa?”
Lord Montayne looked at Madeleine and she answered for him. “Things are not quite ready yet, Lyssa. It takes a few days to assemble everything.” The girl frowned. “We could go and see what’s being done. That way you would know what you want to do once things are ready.”
Lyssa’s answer was to tug on their arms and propel them along with her. They walked slowly, Madeleine pointing out the different wares to be sold.
“Over here will be things every woman needs—spices, salt, honey, soaps. Down this alley you’ll find coal, iron, tools, and knives will be sold.”
They moved further along and Madeleine stopped them again. “Here are where shoes and various cloths can be purchased. My favorite is the velvet because it’s so soft and the colors are rich.”
“I have a velvet tunic, Madeleine. I got it for Christmas. Aga made it for me. She says I’m beautiful when I wear it.”
“Aga? Who’s that?”
Lyssa ducked her head, her shyness returning after such a long outburst of familiarity.
“It’s Lyssa’s nickname for my mother,” he replied. “We’re not sure how she stumbled upon it but Mother has remained Aga, nevertheless.”
Madeleine led them to a more open space, away from the stalls. Hammering echoed throughout, as many had been pressed into service. “Here will be the horses, Lyssa. Men will come from all around to size up the horseflesh. A lord might buy a mare for breeding new stock, while a reeve might be sent to purchase several horses to help in the farming. You’ll want to bring your papa around to see the ponies.”
“Ponies!” Lyssa exclaimed, the shyness nowhere to be found once ponies were mentioned. “Can we come see them, Papa, can we, can we, please?”
“I’m sure that’s something I can arrange,” he assured her. “There’ll also be dancing and singing, Lyssa, and the mummers will put on several shows. Madeleine helps out there.”
Lyssa’s eyes grew round. “What do you do, Madeleine?”
“First, I play a few songs to help quiet the crowd. Some have pretty melodies, while others tell stories.”
“You’re a