for the faire. Lyssa climbed into her lap and listened to a story. Lyssa sang for us and, by God’s teeth, she’s good! Then she went off to play with a boy Madeleine’s been caring for. She was . . . happy.”
Garrett ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I still don’t know who Madeleine is, Ash. But after today, I don’t care.”
He wanted to point out to Garrett that more than one miracle had been wrought today. Little Lyssa might be talking and smiling but her papa was showing his own spark, as well. Ashby hadn’t seen Garrett care about anything for a long time. It was nice to see his friend come so alive. Ashby missed the kinder, gentler Garrett of past days.
“Mayhap the mysterious Madeleine has even more tricks up her sleeve,” he said cryptically.
*
Garrett returned to the great hall, a feeling of satisfaction filling him. He longed to be a better father to his daughter. The simple task of tucking her into bed for the night had left him surprisingly content. He vowed to spend more time with Lyssa in the future. Act with more patience toward her. Get to know her better, especially since Madeleine was helping Lyssa to come out of her shell.
His mother caught his eye and waved him over. He stopped to fetch two mugs of ale from a passing servant and offered her one. She took it and he drew up a chair beside her, the warmth of the nearby fire seeping into him.
“Who is Madeleine, my son?” she asked pointedly.
Her question startled him. He took a long draw of the ale, stalling for time because he also sought the answer to that same question.
“Why do you ask, Mother?” he asked glibly.
She looked at him shrewdly. “Do not answer a question with another question, Garrett. I am no fool and would not have you treat me as one.”
Though usually placid in nature, he knew the steel that ran through him was all Edith.
“I know better than that, Mother. You are a capable woman who could run Stanbury or any of my businesses without any help from me or others.” He paused. “Truly, I don’t mean to put you off.”
“Then answer my question. I want to know who the woman is who has made such a difference in my granddaughter’s life.” She smiled wistfully. “To see Lyssa behaving as a child her age should warms these old bones.”
“You’re not old, Mother.”
She sighed. “Sometimes, I feel very old, Garrett. But Lyssa keeps me young. It was nothing short of a miracle to see her sing with such abandon. Freely giving of herself with a joy that seemed immeasurable.”
He smiled. “It was delightful to behold. It has been far too long since I have witnessed her acting as a child should.”
Edith studied him carefully. “Lyssa said that Madeleine was your friend. What does that mean?”
He shook his head. “I wish I could tell you, Mother. Madeleine is a member of the mummer’s troupe. She serves as one of their troubadours.”
Her eyes widened. “A woman who is a troubadour? Why, that is unheard of.”
“She is the first I have come across to perform in that role. You must come and hear her play and sing. I swear, it is as if the heavens have opened up and the very angels are using her as their vessel.”
“Why, Garrett, you are almost waxing poetic. It is very unlike you. Why does Lyssa call this woman your friend? I cannot imagine any man being friends with a woman, much less a stranger. One from a mummers’ troupe.”
He thought a moment. “I have spent time in Madeleine’s company, both with Lyssa and on my own. Madeleine is unlike any woman of my acquaintance. Mother. She can be quite reserved and yet, at times, I have seen her become lively and cheerful. Mostly, I have witnessed this when Lyssa is present. Though Madeleine has no children of her own, she is drawn to them and they to her.”
Garrett pushed his hands through his hair, frustration building within him. “She is quite the puzzle to me. She can be abrasive when addressing me yet I am intrigued by her every word. I haven’t felt so alive in many years. I have challenged her. Argued with her. Laughed with her.” He sighed. “And I have watched her with Lyssa and seen the changes she has made in my daughter’s life.”