Music for My Soul Read Online Free PDF Page B

gone.”
    By now both the smith and his wife had followed them inside. The couple exchanged frightened looks.
    Garrett could only imagine how he must appear as he tried to control his anger. He felt the familiar pounding at his temples and could feel the heat rise to his face. “There was a lady with us,” he said evenly, through gritted teeth.
    “I spoke to no lady, milord,” the wife insisted, shaking her head slowly.
    “Then where in hell has she disappeared to?” he mused aloud. He paused and then suddenly chuckled, in spite of the situation. “And with my favorite cloak!”

 
    Chapter 4
    Ashby watched Garrett leave the small confines of the cottage to restlessly pace the yard in front of the barn, his hands behind his back. Ashby knew well enough to leave his friend alone for the time being. Garrett always needed solitude when he mulled over issues that troubled him.
    Besides, the entire adventure had brought Ashby a powerful thirst. “About that ale, madam?” he asked the smith’s wife, his usual smile doing the trick.
    “Coming right up, milord,” she responded quickly.
    Soon he’d inhaled several pieces of bread and cheese and drunk more than a good share of ale. Ashby peered out the doorway of the cottage. Garrett still wore a deep frown, but his pacing had slowed. It was safe to approach him once again.
    Taking a fresh mug and a plate of bread toward the barn, he approached his friend. “Need a respite from your pacing, my lord?” he lightly inquired. “You have quite worn a trench into the ground.”
    Garrett turned to him. Seeing the mug, he reached for it and quaffed its contents. Ashby took it from him and had it refilled. When he returned again, Garrett had moved near the horses, seating himself on a bale of hay just inside the barn. Ashby went to him and handed him the second cup of ale and the plate.
    Seating himself beside Garrett, he asked, “Do you really think she was a lady?”
    Garrett exhaled loudly and sipped on the ale before replying. “Yes, Ash, I’m certain of that. ‘Twas her demeanor, for one. She held herself like a lady. No common thief or whore could ever match her bearing. ‘Tis in the blood and can’t be imitated.”
    Garrett drank again from the cup. “Her speech, too, was refined. She spoke the King’s English very precisely, even better than you or I, as if she’d spent time at court. Her dress was well-cut, her hands soft, except for calluses on the tips. I noticed that when she grabbed at my hand a time or two when the road became rough.”
    Ashby nodded. “Possibly because she plays her lute often.”
    His friend roared with sudden laughter. A well-satisfied snort rang through the air.
    “Yes, her lute,” Garrett said, a smug smile upon his face.
    Ashby looked over at the horses. Still tied to his mount was the lady-in-question’s lute. He smiled, too. “So you both have something the other desires?”
    Garrett nodded. “I would have that cloak back. ‘Tis the warmest one I own. I almost didn’t bring it since spring is upon us, but I changed my mind at the last moment. A lute for a cloak? If I catch the chit, I’ll return her lute, smack her bottom with it, and take pleasure in doing so.”
    Ashby grinned at the image Garrett painted. “Would you dare hurt your own wife?” he asked, not masking his amusement.
    “Egads! Could you believe the audacity of that creature, Ash? Claiming to be married to me ?”
    Ashby chuckled. “’Twas a smart ploy on her part, Garrett. Since Ryker’s death, you do own the blackest reputation in these parts, even if I know ‘tis all show. She was clever enough to throw out a name that would stop most men in their tracks. Do you think she is from this area?”
    “I doubt it. ‘Tis just a feeling I have, but if she were, I’m sure we would have heard of her beauty. Why, if I’d met her, I might never . . .” His voice trailed off.
    “. . . have married Lynnette,” Ashby finished.
    A scowl darkened Garrett’s