Music for My Soul by Lauren Linwood Read Free Book Online Page B

changed. I’m not sure what to do, and I don’t know London very well.”
    “Some things are not even worth discussing,” Gwenith told her, looking Madeleine square in the eye. She paused a moment, and Madeleine saw she was sizing her up.
    “I’m a mummer,” Gwenith shared. “Evan and me, we travel all around the south performing our little plays. Sometimes,” she confided, “being on the road is the perfect way to forget yer troubles. Would ye care to join us? Can ye act or sing a bit?”
    Madeleine’s thoughts were in a swirl. She had nowhere to go, not a friend in all of England. She also had no way of escaping to France, at least not at the moment. Impulsively, she said, “I do sing and play the lute.”
    Gwenith looked about and frowned. “Have ye a lute?”
    Madeleine shook her head, feeling a flare of anger heat her cheeks, knowing her lute was in Lord Montayne’s hands.
    “If ye’ve money to buy one, then let’s do it and be off. We must meet up with Farley tonight, for we leave in the morning. Are ye game, Maddie Bouchard?”
    Madeleine smiled at her wearily, then said a silent thank you to God. Things were beginning to look up.

 
    Chapter 5
    Garrett pulled his new cloak about him as the wind suddenly gusted. The April day was gray and bleak, much like his mood. The overcast skies were threatening London with rain at any moment. He kicked Ebony lightly, spurring the horse on before the coming storm soaked them.
    He guided the steed through the tight streets that already teemed with people, though it was but eight of the clock. As he continued, a fine mist began, slowly turning into a lazy drizzle. Garrett cursed under his breath. He had hoped to reach his destination before the shower began. Now he would arrive wet and miserable, feeling as black as his soul at this moment. He pondered on his mood, which had been dark since they’d reached London. Or rather, as Ashby had pointed out, since just before they’d come upon the city.
    Lady Montayne . The vision of the woman calling herself thus invaded his private musings. He had tried to shake off her image over the last two days with no luck. She came to him at the oddest times, when he least expected it.
    Why was he so taken with a stranger? Especially one whose true name he didn’t even know? He closed his eyes briefly, and she appeared again. He could see those deep amethyst eyes that dominated her face. The flawless skin, the delicate bone structure, the generous mouth that wove her outlandish tales, were all too real.
    And the feel of her. Garrett remembered how little she weighed, despite her height, which was taller than any woman he’d seen. She’d fit quite nicely against him once she’d fallen asleep in the saddle.
    Garrett cursed again and opened his eyes. The picture of the mystery woman dissolved, leaving him to wonder again why she plagued him so. He thought back to his conversation with Ashby the previous day.
    “You’re coming out of your mourning for Lynnette, Garrett,” Ashby reminded him. “You’re ready to live again. ‘Tis simple enough to see. You’ve met an exceptionally attractive woman and you were drawn to her.” Ashby shrugged nonchalantly, which infuriated Garrett.
    “I’ve had plenty of women since Lynnette’s leaving,” he told his friend bluntly.
    “Aye, Garrett, but you’ve not gotten close to any one of them. ‘Twas nothing more than a quick roll in the hay—sometimes literally.” Ashby laughed, amused by his own clever reply.
    Garrett suspected Ashby was right. He’d changed when his wife had disappeared. He did everything possible to keep busy, the better to have no time to think. To feel. Driven in all he did.
    He’d thrown himself into the management of his estate in England and the vineyards he owned in France, even taking his first trip the previous year to the Bordeaux area. He had learned more about wines during his month in France than he would have thought possible. Robert Bouchard,