Music for My Soul by Lauren Linwood

spotted Evan.
    “Whenever are you going to start the show, Maddie?” he asked in a stage whisper. “Farley’s fit to be tied.”
    Madeleine realized she had been daydreaming. She squeezed Evan’s shoulder. “Run along, young master, and get ready. You have a big role today.”
    Evan beamed. “Aye. I get to hand the sword to Rolf at the best moment. Mama says all eyes will be on me.”
    Madeleine gave him a slight push and settled herself. She strummed a few chords, calming the restless throng.
    Soon, she was lost in the story.
    “’Tis time you showed your face,” Garrett growled as Ashby strode toward him.
    “And ‘tis wonderful to see you in such a pleasant mood, my friend,” Ashby replied. “I have met the most wonderful girl, Garrett. Except for sounding like a creaky wheel needing to be oiled, she’s picture perfect.”
    “I’ve no time for your conquests, Ash. She’s here.”
    Ashby frowned. “And which lady would you be referring to, Garrett?”
    “Lady Montayne.”
    Garrett regretted his choice of words as soon as he saw the look on his friend’s face. Of course Ashby thought he meant Lynnette.
    “The imposter who called herself my wife,” he amended. “The damned chit who made off with my cloak.”
    Ashby’s features relaxed. He shrugged with an amused shake of his head. “Are you still bothered by that, Garrett?” A knowing smile lit his face.
    “You’re smitten, my friend. I cannot believe I didn’t see it before. That would explain why you’ve been so distracted. All because of a woman.”
    “Nonsense!” Garrett snarled at him. “I’ve had much on my mind. I simply want what’s mine returned to me.”
    “As I think the lady herself would like her lute given over.”
    ”So will you help me find her again or not?” he demanded.
    “’Tis a big faire, Garrett,” Ashby pointed out. “Besides, I only came back to find you for the play.”
    “Play?”
    “Yes, the mummers’ little drama. My newfound friend, Hannah, is the seamstress for this troupe. She says there’s a remarkable woman who narrates and sings.”
    “So?”
    “So I promised her we’d watch.” He swung an arm around Garrett’s shoulder and began leading him in the direction of the stage. “We’ll look afterwards for the mysterious Lady Montayne.”
    Garrett knew better than to try and dissuade Ashby. The man had an eye for ladies, young and old alike. He fell into step with his friend, their long strides covering the distance in a short time. Perhaps he could scan the crowd for the mystery woman.
    “Hannah guaranteed me she’d save us a place,” Ashby said. “She’ll be just off the stage.”
    As they pushed through the edge of the mass, music could be heard. A sweet, lilting melody that touched Garrett in an indescribable way.
    Then a voice entered into the song. Garrett froze in his tracks, so moved was he by the low, mellow tones.
    Ashby waved and tugged on his sleeve. “She’s up there,” he whispered.
    Garrett followed as if in a dream. Ashby moved and stood by a pretty brunette, and they both motioned him over. He walked toward them and turned to the far side of the stage, but he instinctively knew who he would see.
    His Lady Montayne.
    She wore a tunic of rich plum. Her golden hair was hanging freely, past her waist. He longed to rush to her and run his hands through the unbound, silken tresses. No, instead, he’d sit at her feet, a slave to her song, the most beautiful music he’d ever heard. Indeed, sung by the loveliest creature on earth.
    Her eyes were closed as she sang, and he studied her greedily. Despite her height, her bone structure was delicate. Her wrists were small, feminine. Her thin, elegant fingers strummed the lute as if they held magic in them. She wore a wistful smile and had the most kissable mouth he’d ever laid eyes upon.
    As she sang, Garrett wondered at the sadness that seemed to cloak her. She had to have suffered through great sorrows, such richness she brought