Free Music for My Soul by Lauren Linwood Page A

He wanted this woman to know exactly who he was and that her pretense had been discovered.
    She shrugged nonchalantly, an almost Gallic air about her. She didn’t sound French, but there was an unmistakable manner to her movement. Garrett had spent enough time in France to recognize the gesture.
    “I chose a bloody awful name to scare away anyone who accosted me on the road. How was I to know I’d run into you ?” She snorted in an unladylike fashion. “I’ve heard tales of the wicked Lord Montayne, how he frightens old and young alike and gobbles up babes for his dinner. Why, the very mention of his name causes grown men to plead for their lives and their loved ones. Oh, no, my lord, I was an honest liar. You were the one who resorted to trickery and hid your true identity from me.”
    Her accusation so startled Garrett his jaw flew open. She lifted her chin high and turned on her heel before he could make a retort. He grabbed her elbow and spun her around to face him. “Not so fast, my lady.”
    He studied her a second. Finally faced with her visage squarely in front of him, Garrett was at a loss of what to do. His emotions swirled out of control as he studied her narrowed eyes.
    “’Tis a curiosity,” he finally sputtered.
    She looked puzzled. “Curiosity?” she echoed.
    He nodded, his words spilling forth rapidly. “I know not who you are, nor where you come from. I’ve dreamed of you since that night, only to awaken to an emptiness.” His voice became low and tinged with sadness. “I don’t even know your name.”
    “What’s this?” an angry voice exclaimed.
    A man of about three and twenty strode toward them. He looked as Garrett imagined God’s angels to look—tall, fair—haired, blue—eyed. But this angel was muscular and had fisted hands. He appeared ready to deliver God’s wrath upon Garrett.
    Garrett released the elbow of the still nameless woman and turned to face the man, who marched straight past him and put an arm about the mystery lady.
    “Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you?” The stranger turned and glared at Garrett.
    The woman finally spoke. “No, Royce, things are fine,” she said evenly. “Lord Montayne helped me when I was in a precarious position a few months ago. I am grateful for the aid he rendered to me.” She flashed Garrett a look that he read to mean ‘stay quiet,’ and he did.
    “You’ve got those dark eyes, my sweet. I fear you are angry with this lord, even if he did help you.”
    Those amethyst eyes now focused their fury on the one she had called Royce. “I’ll thank you kindly not to interpret my glances,” she said curtly.
    Garrett noticed the man seemed hurt by her words, but kept his arm steady about her nonetheless.
    She turned back to Garrett. “My thanks to you once more, my lord. ‘Tis a pleasure to see you again.” She smiled brilliantly at him. “And give my best to Sir Ashby.” With that, the couple turned, melting into the noisy crowd.
    Garrett swore softly under his breath. He still had no clue who this mystery woman was. Why had he let her go so easily?
    Madeleine waited until they were well out of Garrett’s earshot then turned to Royce. “Kindly remove your arm from me, Royce,” she said icily.
    He drew it away quickly. “I only meant to protect you, Madeleine. That gentleman looked quite put out with you and had hold of you. ‘Twas only for fear of your safety that I intervened.”
    She studied his contrite expression and softened. “I thank you then, Royce, but I could have done without your calling me ‘my sweet.’”
    “’Tis how I feel, Madeleine. I tried telling you earlier, but we were interrupted by Osbert.” His eyes reflected the hope she heard in his voice.
    She placed her hand on his shoulder. “I—”
    “There you are, Madeleine. About time you arrived. I sent Royce looking for you,” Farley interrupted them. “Didn’t want to start the performance late.”
    She dropped her hand. “Farley, may I