Song of the Heart - Alexa Aston Page 0,60

she relaxed, catching the teasing light in his eyes. “I have been many a man’s wife since I was yours, my lord. I think today I’ll be Edgar’s.”

“And make poor Edgar’s wife in heaven jealous?”

It amazed her how he remembered such small details. “I’m sure if I make Edgar deliriously happy, he’ll forget all about his dead wife,” she said flippantly.

Garrett grew suddenly serious. “You’re coming to the keep tonight, Madeleine?”

“Yes, my lord,” she assured him. “We have been hard at work on several new dramas for your guests.”

“Good,” he said and turned to go. “I will see you tonight.”

“Yes, my lord. The entire troupe will be ready to do your bidding. Your guests shall not be disappointed.”

*

The castle was aflutter with activity after having gone so long with no guests to speak of. Annie, Lyssa’s nurse, confided in Madeleine how surprised they had been when Garrett announced the upcoming house party.

“Ye could have knocked me down with a feather, Madeleine. I can’t right remember guests for ever so long at Stanbury. Not since the mistress done up and left.”

“Are there many who’ve come?” she asked.

“A good twenty or more. Stanbury’s large enough for them, that’s for sure, and ’tis right for the master to start entertaining again. Lady Edith has walked around with a smile on her face for a week.”

Madeleine thought of the house parties she’d given as the wife of one of the leading champagne merchants in Reims. Of course, they’d all been Henri’s friends and business associates. She’d acted merely as hostess at these affairs but had enjoyed them for as long as they lasted. They broke up the dull routine of her sheltered life and she also had the opportunity to play and sing for those gathered.

Henri had showed a mix of pride in her accomplishments and yet had rebuffed her in private for not maintaining the high standards of his home. She knew, too, that once the guests made their way back to their own homes that Henri would find some fault so great with her that he would mete out the appropriate “punishment”. It had become standard behavior in their chateau and made her all the more thankful to be away from that prison.

The mummers would perform every night for the next seven nights at Stanbury. The audience was an eclectic group. Some were wealthy landowners who finagled an invitation once they’d heard those were being issued. Others were past friends of the family and the rest business associates of Lord Montayne’s from London.

Madeleine overheard Edith lamenting that her dearest childhood friend, Lady Ancil, was too ill to attend, and promised she’d do fifty Our Fathers for that bit of good luck. She’d run away from Henri while they were guests of the Ancils and the noblewoman would have recognized her on the spot.

The troupe waited each night until the evening meal had been served before they came out. Madeleine usually sang a few songs before the night’s play began. Sometimes she sang a duet with York, which turned out to be quite successful.

Farley mentioned they’d have to try that more often once they left Stanbury.

Madeleine took comfort in that she’d be gone from Stanbury soon. She hated staying in one place so long for fear Henri would discover her whereabouts. She’d even had a few nightmares of Henri finding her. No, her time with the troupe had run its course, and she must meet her obligation to Evan and then return to France.

She’d not informed Farley about her leaving. It hadn’t come up again since before Gwenith fell ill. Madeleine would simply tell him that she was taking Evan to his father and would return as soon as she could manage. He didn’t need to know about her plans to cross the channel for France. She knew she owed him more but her fear outweighed any loyalty.

Every evening, Madeleine told a story after the play ended. Ashby called for one that first night, and it became a ritual for Garrett’s guests. They seemed most enthralled with the tales from the Arabian Nights. They also enjoyed the legends surrounding King Arthur. Her mother had told her these stories every night for years. Madeleine had dreamed of someday finding her own Arthur and creating a world of beauty and goodness not unlike Camelot.

It surprised her when several guests gave her gold coins for her efforts.

“Look not so startled, Madeleine,” Ashby said as he pressed a coin into her palm. “You are most entertaining and