Music for My Soul by Lauren Linwood Read Free Book Online

eyes upon me.”
    When Bertrand remained silent, Henri continued. “God wants a wife to submit to her husband,” he explained. “I will have her yield. She will long for death. And then, only then, will I kill her slowly. And I will take pleasure in it. God would not ask me to remain faithful to a disloyal whore.”
    Henri released Bertrand, who staggered back from his master. Satisfied, Henri could see the great fear on his valet’s features. Bertrand had witnessed Henri meting out punishment before and he knew his servant would do anything to keep his master’s wrath from descending upon him.
    Madeleine arrived on the waterfront in the late afternoon after waiting two days before entering the city’s gates. She had spent most of the day there, searching for news of departing ships to France. She had just secured passage on one that would sail within hours. The high price surprised her, but she would have sold all her jewels and paid all she had to reach home, if only for a little while.
    She knew her parents would be shocked to see her, but she would make them understand what she’d been through. She loved them more than anything on God’s earth. She would explain how cruel Henri had been to keep them apart. Then her brother would help arrange for her to enter a convent.
    Madeleine knew liberation lay almost within her grasp. She had traveled many back roads to reach London. She wanted no more encounters with Lord Montayne. She remembered he’d mentioned having business here in London, and she knew he would be meeting at some point with Henri. The thought chilled her. Lord Montayne seemed a very clever man. What if he figured out who she was? Would he tell Henri?
    She took her small bundle and held it more tightly to her, even as she tugged the black cloak around her. She still had pains of remorse for having taken such a fine garment. She had not meant to, but things had happened so quickly at the smith’s house that she had not realized she still had it about her when she’d put her plan into motion.
    She wondered idly if there was a way to return it to Lord Montayne, perhaps with a note thanking him for his kindness.
    Suddenly she was rooted to the spot. No, it couldn’t be. Dread filled her as she stared at the man not twenty paces in front of her, his back turned toward her as he conversed with another man. The bald pate. The portly, barrel-shaped body. The all-black clothes that Henri insisted every one of his servants wear.
    The man gestured as he spoke, and she caught a glimpse of his face in profile.
    Madeleine’s gut clinched in fear.
    Bertrand. Why was he on the wharf ? It was far too early for Henri to be returning to France.
    It didn’t matter, she told herself. If Bertrand was here, then Henri could be, too. What if they were taking the same ship as she? How could she steer clear of them?
    Madeleine fought the growing sense of panic and the wild urge to run, to scream, to lash out at the first person crossing her path. Instead, she remained calm despite her pounding heart. Turning, she hastened in the opposite direction along the dock at a brisk pace, in spite of her limp, even as she heard Bertrand and the man he spoke with coming her way. She turned abruptly, ducking behind a stack of cartons placed haphazardly, and waited, not daring to breathe nor even look up.
    The men paused directly in front of the boxes that concealed her.
    Bertrand spoke, his English flawless, though colored with his native French accent. “So you see, Monsieur de Picassaret is anxious to find her. He will pay a great deal to have her returned to him safely.”
    The other man grunted. “I’m sure she’s the one, but she gave a different name. Your description is too close not to be the same woman.”
    Madeleine heard the shifting of papers. “Yes, here it is. She’s listed as Bouchard. Madeleine Bouchard. Sailing on the evening tide tonight.”
    Merde ! But there was no time to spout “Our Fathers” as penance.