Song of the Heart - Alexa Aston Page 0,55

finger on her lips. “This is a tale of what England was like long ago.” She launched into a story of life before the Romans came and how the Druids had danced at celebrations such as the one tonight, their chants of “Eye-Ay-Oh,” buzzing as bees would.

She painted a picture of the Romans as they came, conquering the simple folk and chasing the Druids far away. Garrett found he couldn’t take his eyes from her, spellbound as much by her beauty as the tale she wove.

He was startled when he heard her say, “And to this day, the Druids will dance beneath the pale moonlight . . . so beware!”

The crowd, enraptured by her story, erupted into thunderous applause at its conclusion. Someone passed her a mug and she took a hearty swallow from it, wiping the foam from her lips with her sleeve. The people cheered again, and she moved from the center of their attention to the edges.

Garrett slowly made his way through those gathered and followed her on a parallel path. She finally removed herself totally from the group and began crossing the meadow. He knew where she was headed, a boulder at the far end of the pasture that edged the forest and overlooked the entire open meadow. He’d seen her sitting on it once before.

Sure enough, she went straight to the massive rock, climbing awkwardly up to its large, flat surface. He watched her lie down upon it and slip her hands beneath her head. He approached quietly, propping his elbow on the stone ledge.

“Stargazing?” he whispered.

Madeleine sat up hastily, surprise written across her face. “You startled me! I didn’t hear you come up.”

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, not waiting for her response, but easily hoisting himself up next to her. She moved away from the center. With a grin, he stretched out his legs as she had, cushioning his head with his hands, making sure to keep some space between them. “It’s a beautiful night,” he said easily. “The stars are bright tonight.”

“Yes, they are,” she murmured stiffly, giving him a suspicious look.

“Madeleine?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“You may lie back down again. There’s plenty of room here for both of us. I promise I won’t push you off,” he said playfully. To try to reassure her, he shut his eyes and waited.

Garrett sensed her hesitation. With his eyes closed, he seemed more aware of her than before, her lavender scent invading his senses.

She waited, obviously undecided about what to do. Then he heard the rustling and she eased back down on the rock. Not close to him, but he still felt the heat of her body.

He did his best not to move, though he could feel his heart ready to leap from his chest. He didn’t want her to feel threatened but he so wanted to touch her. He longed to know everything about this wondrous woman who’d turned his world upside down.

His mind raced through the many women he’d seen over the years. None of them held a candle to Madeleine. She had an inner spirit that shone through, enhancing the beauty on her surface. How could he find out who she really was—and what secrets she still kept from him?

*

Madeleine’s heart pounded fiercely as she stared at the night sky. She felt very awkward and self-conscious being so near him. She realized she held her breath and expelled it quietly. Lord Montayne said nothing. His eyes remained closed. She tried to relax, putting her hands under her head for support.

Why was he here?

And yet she knew. She’d known it was but a matter of time before they found themselves alone. She just hadn’t pictured it in this way.

She stole a glance at him, starting from the feet up. His muscular legs vanished under his rich, black tunic. He wore black often but the dark color suited him. His chest was broad, and both it and his arms were muscular. His profile was, for lack of a better word, simply beautiful. She had never thought a man beautiful before she’d met Lord Montayne.

He suddenly rolled over to one side and faced her, one arm propping his head up, the other resting in front of him. He seemed very large and strong compared to her. She was afraid to move. His very nearness made her feel so small.

“Who are you, Madeleine?”

Her mouth went dry. “Madeleine Bouchard, member of Farley’s mummers.”

“Bouchard?” he echoed. She thought quickly. “Yes, it’s a French name, my lord. My relatives