Song of the Heart - Alexa Aston Page 0,65

if in a dream, he gently rolled Madeleine to her side and lifted her tunics, inching them up slowly. With every move of the cloth, he saw the scars on her milky white flesh. Some were deeply embedded. Others appeared pink, much more recent. Some seemed as if they had been burned into her flesh, others cut into it. Garrett had seen many types of wounds on the battlefield but the purposeful torture of an innocent woman sickened him.

He continued to raise her skirts. Her back and buttocks were also marred. His pulse pounded in outrage at the thought of Madeleine’s tormenter. Garrett put her clothing back into place, smoothing the fabric as best he could.

He returned Madeleine to her back and she made a few small whimpers in her sleep as he recovered her.

In utter shock, Garrett knelt on the floor next to her. What kind of animal could do this to another human being? Savagely beating or burning her until she was so disfigured?

He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. What kind of suffering had Madeleine endured? For how many years? What fiend had attacked her over and over? His gut said she’d been on the run when he’d met her, trying to protect herself from her abuser. Had it been fate that she’d chosen Garrett’s name?

A white-hot anger blanketed him. If her abuser had appeared before him at that moment, he would have killed the man with a single blow. He tried to calm the fury that seared through every pore of his body, causing him to tremble violently. Anger wouldn’t help Madeleine now.

When he was a child, Ryker used to beat his mother often. He still remembered his feelings of helplessness when Edith came to the table the next day, her face a mass of bruises, her body moving stiffly. He’d hated Ryker for many things, but especially for this.

Garrett leaned over and pressed a tender kiss upon Madeleine’s brow. He took her hand and held it to his cheek, oblivious to the tears that fell down his face.

He whispered, “I swear, Madeleine, that I will protect you from whomever did this. You will be safe with me.”

He then bowed his head and wept.

Chapter Seventeen

She knew she’d angered him. The signs were many. The cold, calculating stare. The set of his mouth. Even his stance. She knew what was coming.

She ran, lurching first down the tower steps, then out of the chateau. If she could reach the vineyards, she’d be safe. Crossing the inner bailey she passed curious glances, but she had no time to stop. From the outer bailey, she found the gate already raised. She called for the bridge to be lowered. It fell and she hobbled across.

The vineyard lay beyond, its lush, green vines calling to her. She could hide there. Hide from the anger, hide from the shame, but most importantly, hide from the punishment that awaited her if she were caught.

She rounded the corner and froze.

Henri stood between her and freedom, his arrogant smirk chilling her to the bone.

“Did you think you could escape punishment, Madeleine?” He reached for her and she screamed.

*

“Madeleine? What is it—the pain?”

Her eyes flew open at the man’s soft words. Her vision was slightly blurred and she blinked several times trying to bring things into focus. She did not recognize her surroundings. She did, though, recognize the familiar agony.

Suddenly, she felt pressure on her shoulders and tried to throw off the hands holding her down.

“Madeleine!”

The voice was commanding, causing her to cease her struggles. Gently, she was pushed back into soft pillows.

Then she saw Garrett hovering over her, concern written across his tired features.

“Shall I call the physician again? Do you need something for your pain?”

What was going on? Henri had punished her, she was sure of it, her throbbing aches told her as much. So how had Garrett come to be at Chateau Maraine?

Then the events of earlier that day came rushing back to her. The sudden storm. Luke in the tree. The limb crashing down. The icy water. She breathed a small sigh of relief, knowing she was at Stanbury. Henri was only a ghost of a memory. For once, he was not the cause of her misery. The pain was of her own making.

“Madeleine? Shall I call for the doctor?”

She looked up again at Garrett’s troubled face and was surprised at his distress.

“No, my lord, do not send for a doctor. Save your money and mine. I have managed pain before.