Music for My Soul (31 page)

Garrett frowned playfully. “What’s so amusing?” He crossed to her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

Both women looked at each other and erupted into giggles. Edith finished her work by tying a ribbon of midnight blue on the end of Madeleine’s braid.

“I’ll tell you more later,” his mother said mysteriously and left the room.

Garrett crossed to where Madeleine sat and began kneading her shoulders. She closed her eyes and sighed. “That feels wonderful. Don’t ever stop.”

“I’ll keep on. As long as you tell me what I missed.”

She opened her eyes. “Your mother was telling me the most amusing stories about you and Ashby.” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I can’t wait to tease you both.”

His fingers slid up her neck. “I’m afraid I can’t allow you to speak with Ash anymore.”

She twisted around to look at him. “And why not?”

He stroked her neck as he said, “With all the lecherous looks he was giving you? I doubt I’ll trust him to be within twenty paces of you ever again.”

She cupped his face and gave him a light kiss. “You are so silly, Garrett. I should— ”

“Kiss you again,” he replied. He leaned down for a hard, fast kiss. He smiled at her as they parted.

“Now I’m fortified for whatever occurs.” He squeezed her hand. “I must take care of the business at hand, though. Ash is awaiting word from me. I need to see him but a moment, and then I will return to you.”

“Let me accompany you,” she pleaded.

In answer he put an arm about her waist and led her to the Great Hall, glad she didn’t want to be parted from him for even a short length of time.

The evening meal was being cleared as they entered. Servants scurried along, clacking empty tankards and returning the trestle tables back against the walls. Many moved close to the hearth fire, which crackled and danced. Several called out greetings as they entered.

Cook rushed over to them. “Was the pheasant pleasing, my lord?”

“It surpassed your usual standard, Cook.”

She beamed with pleasure. “And ‘twould it be possible for Madeleine to grace us with a song?”

Garrett spoke for her. “Tomorrow. Madeleine is still weary from our journey home.”

Madeleine nodded at the woman. “I promise that the first song will be for you, Cook.”

Cook chuckled, rubbing her gnarled hands together. “Can’t wait to tell that stinkin’ Coster. He thought the first song ‘twould be fer him. Hmmph!” She waddled off in triumph.

“Oh, dear,” Madeleine said. “I hope I haven’t caused any problems.”

Ashby approached and bowed low to Madeleine. He took her hand, brushing a kiss lightly across her knuckles.

“If you’re interested in keeping your hand attached to your wrist, Ash, I’d suggest you release Madeleine’s.”

Ashby’s eyes lit up with mischief. He gave Madeleine’s hand a squeeze before letting it go. “If I must,” he said, then quipped, “I have become rather attached to it.”

Ashby’s expression grew serious. “Barth has finished his meal. He’s over in the corner playing dice.”

Garrett glanced casually in that direction. “I don’t want this turned into a public spectacle. Give me a few minutes and then tell him he’s to come to the solar.” Garrett’s expression was grim. “Have a guard of six waiting outside the hall to escort him. Mayhap he’ll have plenty to think of on his way.”

Garrett led Madeleine back up the stairs. He took her warm hand in his cold one. She pressed it reassuringly, and he squeezed hers in return, drawing strength from her calm.

They entered the solar, the largest bedchamber at Stanbury. The fire’s warmth enveloped the room, its shadows dancing along the wall.

He seated Madeleine on a stool and took the chair next to it. “I know you want to be here, but I cannot promise you ‘twill be pleasant. ‘Tis an ugly matter we address. I’ll not play gentleman to this cur.”

“As long as we find the truth, Garrett. That’s what we must come away with.”

“We shall,” he said with determination.

They waited in silence until Madeleine heard footsteps in the distance. Her stomach tightened in anticipation as the noise of booted feet grew closer to where they waited.

A heavy knock sounded at the door. Garrett did not respond to it immediately. She looked at him as he stared at the door, his jaw clenched tightly. Her own heart raced as he finally called, “Enter.”

Barth was brought in, led by Ashby and surrounded by the six guards. All were armed with swords by their sides. Next to their height and width, the serf seemed dwarfed.

Madeleine instantly recognized Barth from the jeweler’s description of him. She did not recall ever having seen the man before, but he was memorable. His thick hair and beard were bright red. The massive patch he wore over his right eye would make him stand apart in a crowd. Edith had told Madeleine that years ago Barth had been kicked in the face by a horse and lost the eye.

She remembered how Evan had complained about Barth’s short temper when he’d worked in the stables briefly before he left Stanbury. Evan, with his sunny nature and love for life, had nothing good to say about the stableman. Madeleine realized that mayhap children were the best judge of character, after all.

Madeleine glanced over as Edith slipped into the room and took a seat near the window. Garrett signaled the men, and they moved a few steps away from their prisoner. Ashby moved to the wall, close to Edith.

Now that the knights had moved aside, Madeleine had a better view and could see the utter terror on Barth’s face. He was not a large man, shorter than she was, but he seemed to shrink within himself with each passing moment, thanks to Garrett’s silence.

Madeleine gained a new respect for Garrett as she watched his control. She realized how eager he was to find out what this man knew, and yet he sat calmly, leisurely studying his servant. He leaned an elbow upon the arm of his chair, his chin resting atop his fist as he inspected the man before him.

Barth wiggled and squirmed under such scrutiny, but Garrett’s gaze was unrelenting.

Suddenly, Garrett asked, “Do you know why you were brought here, Barth?” His voice was low, but no one present had trouble hearing what he said.

Barth wet his lips nervously. He looked at every conceivable nook and cranny in the room before he met Garrett’s eyes. “No, m’lord.” He attempted a casual air, but his voice wavered slightly. “Can’t say I do.”

“No?” Garrett shifted in his seat and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I thought you might have some idea.”

Barth started to answer, but no sound came out. He cleared his throat noisily and tugged at the collar of his tunic. Finally, he answered, “No, m’lord. Haven’t got a clue.”

Madeleine saw that his legs began to tremble. His lips quivered as he tried to form his words. “Well, it could have to do with, and I’m not saying I’m at fault, but it could be the drinking.”

Garrett looked almost amused. “The drinking?” he questioned innocently.

“Well, m’lord, I know you warned me ‘bout it, but every now and then I do like to take a nip.” He paused a moment and then nodded furiously. “Yes, I do believe it be me drinking.”

“No.”

The one word was all Garrett uttered. He sat motionless in his chair.

Barth began fidgeting again. He scratched his head, and then a surprised look appeared upon his face. “Oh, o’ course. I know now. ‘Twould be about the fight.”

“Fight?” Again, Madeleine thought Garrett look almost bored as he sat facing Barth.

“Not the fight?” Barth asked weakly.

“You mean the fight with John? The one where you fought dirty and almost blinded him in one eye?” Garrett shook his head. “No, I don’t think ‘tis that either.”

Barth’s face began to show his rising panic and flushed dark red above his beard. Nervously, he bit a nail, then another, as the room remained silent. He finally realized what he was doing and quickly lowered his hand from his mouth. He swallowed hard a time or two and then muttered, “Must be ‘bout the girl.” His eyes were downcast and his shoulders slumped.

Garrett sat forward, his elbows propped on his knees, his hands clasped together. “I know about no girl, Barth.”

Barth winced.

“Do you want to tell me about this girl? Who is she? What do I need to hear about the matter?”

Barth blurted out, “’Tis Sarah. She’s going ta have a babe, and she says ‘tis mine!” He shook his head back and forth vigorously. “But cannot be, m’lord.”

Garrett sighed. “Why would I have expected better from you, Barth?”

The man trembled in both legs and hands now. “Oh, I’ll do better, m’lord. I promise ye that. Yes, old Barth will do much better in the future. Ye can count on me.”

Garrett did not mince words. “As I counted on you to take care of Lady Montayne?”

The sudden switch in subject startled Madeleine, although she had known it would come. As for Barth, his previously flushed face whitened immediately. He tried to speak, but the words didn’t form beyond a wheeze.

“What can you tell me about Lady Montayne’s disappearance four years ago, Barth?” When the serf didn’t answer, he snapped, “I want the truth. Now.
All of it
.”

As he spoke, Garrett stood and moved closer to the bearded man. He leisurely reached into his purse and removed Lynnette’s necklace. He held it in front of him, letting it rock back and forth as a pendulum, just inches from the serf’s face.

“No,” Barth whispered. “It cannot be.” He turned to run, but the guards surrounded him, leaving his only way of escape through Garrett. He shrank back and turned in circles, trapped as a rat by an army of large cats.

Garrett’s features were now hard as stone. “I want answers.
Truthful
answers.”

The servant fell to his knees. “Ye’re such a hard man, m’lord. Ye expect so much of us. ‘Twas fear that kept me from coming ta ye. Everyone ‘round Stanbury way knows how ye . . .” His voice trailed off.

“Knows what, Barth?”

Madeleine stole a look at Garrett from the corner of her eye. He glared at Barth in anger, his fists balled at his sides.

“That I kept you on, despite your drinking and carelessness, because of your family? Or that I demand things be done right? A fair day’s work for a fair day’s wage?”

“Fair?” Barth hissed. “Ye’re as mean as Satan Himself. Ye should suffer as long and hard as I have.”

Garrett remained remarkably cool. Only his eyes were ablaze. As Barth’s eyes met his master’s, Madeleine saw the dawning moment of defeat in them.

Silence blanketed the room. All that could be heard was Barth’s labored breathing. At last he blurted out, “I might as well tell ye the truth. Though it ‘tweren’t my fault at all, no, not at all. ‘Twere an accident.”

Garrett moved away.

Barth seemed to relax a bit with the distance Garrett placed between them. He rubbed his one good eye and sighed.

“Tell me about the day Lady Montayne disappeared,” Garrett demanded.

“I’d been havin’ a nip behind the barn, just ta tide me over, when Lady Montayne came fer her horse.” He squinted, as if he could see it in his mind’s eye. “’Twas the new one, the filly with the temper. She be a bit hard for m’lady ta handle, but she were determined to ride her.”

“I remember. Go on.”

“She were in such a hurry. She always were. Rushin’ me here and there, distractin’ me with all sorts of foolish questions. How’s a man to concentrate with all that female prattlin’ goin’ on? Can’t do my work properly at all, if’n ye know what I mean.”

A spasm of coughs interrupted Barth’s tale for a minute. When he recovered he said, “Then our reeve Stephen showed up, hurryin’ me. Said he had important things ta do and would I please get the saddles on? He didn’t have no time to be ridin’ all ‘round with Lady Montayne anyhows.” Barth cleared his throat with a miserable sound. “Nobody appreciates me, ye know. Never did. Not Mrs. Barth, not my little ‘uns, not no one. At least until that day. Then our reeve done owe me. He appreciated me fer all my help in the matter.”

Madeleine shuddered involuntarily. She had never liked Stephen. He’d seemed efficient in his work, but she had never forgotten the pleasure he’d taken talking about the typhus running rampant through London when he’d returned from one of his trips there.

Barth scanned his audience, seemingly pleased he had all their attention now. “Stephen told me when they begun to ride hard, the girth suddenly came undone. If’n she just hadn’t rushed me, I could’ve saddled the horse properly. But, no, m’lady fell from the horse when the saddle did. The horse spooked and trampled her, it did. Her skull done be crushed.”

The silent horror on the faces of those present was deafening. All had been led believe that Lynnette had run away with this secret lover. And all along, the reeve had been present at her death. He’d lied to Garrett all these years.

She observed the tension surging through Garrett from head to toe. Madeleine wanted to call a halt to this sordid tale, but she knew Garrett must hear it till the end.

Barth continued, more unsure of himself now as he took in the cold looks from those gathered in the solar.

“Stephen came an’ got me ta help him. M’lady was all broken and crumpled on the ground. He told me ‘twere my fault.”

Barth’s shoulders heaved, and he began to cry. “We took her jewels and buried her in the forest.”

He raised his head toward Garrett, his eyes glassy and unfocused. In a pleading tone, he said, “We knew yer temper. Ye’re Ryker’s son, after all. We knew we’d both be blamed. That it’d be the end of us both.”

He wiped his nose with his sleeve. “Stephen had me take the horse and ride it to London. I were to sell it there and the jewels, too. He said he’d cover for me, that I weren’t to worry ‘bout being missed. He said he’d fix things for us both.”

Barth smiled satisfactorily. “An’ he were right. Nobody suspected a thing at all.” His mouth hung in a surly pose. “Till now.”

“Do you remember where the grave is?” Garrett’s voice rang hollowly in the room.

Barth nodded wearily.

Garrett motioned his men-at-arms. Once again they surrounded Barth, whose pitiful sobs filled the room.

“Ash? Take three men and find Stephen. We’ll meet up in the outer bailey.”