Tudor Rubato

Tudor Rubato

By

Jamie Salisbury

Book 2 of the Tudor Dynasty series

Tudor Rubato

Copyright © 2012 Jamie Salisbury

All rights reserved. Without reserving the rights under copyright, reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or any other means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously.

Dedication

There are so many amazing people I want to dedicate this book to. The list is long, but you know who you are. I am forever in your debt. You kept me going when I wanted to quit during those dark moments every author/writer has.

A few who do need mentioning...

To MK...for believing in me, and for looking so damn fine in a kilt! To the ladies of the Harem. You know who you are. An amazing bunch of women who are an author's dream come true. Thank you. And this couldn't have happened without a little help from my friends...Liam, Jane, Debbie, Jamallah, Nicholette, Terry, Brenda, JPM, Anya, Lauralynn, Renee, and of course the real Amadeus Tudor...Thanks! If I missed anyone, you know who you are.

In memory of some amazing talent gone too soon:

Robert Nix...drummer and songwriter extraordinaire. Southern rock will never be the same without you.

Joe South...one of the most prolific songwriters of our time. Rest in peace, my friend. It was an honor to have known you.

Chapter One

Whoever said life was easy obviously hasn’t been in mine. Don’t get me wrong—I love my life and I wouldn’t change a thing about it, especially my wonderful husband, Amadeus Tudor. It’s just that life with Amadeus these past few years has been anything but boring.

Amadeus is a rock star. Not just a rock star, but part of an elite group of musicians who are above the main stream rock and roll bands. He’s not only a superb composer — he is a multi- talented musician and singer. In other words, he’s a rock god, destined to be a rock legend.

I’ve known Amadeus since he was a teenager just starting out in the business. I was an ambitious young woman determined to make a name for myself as a public relations maven, and manager. Amadeus and his band at the time, Tudor Rose, gave me a bite of that apple, and I’ve been with Amadeus ever since. After years of trying to maintain our relationship as nothing more than professional, Amadeus put his foot down and took control. We got married and settled into our new life. But that’s where it all goes amuck and becomes a roller coaster.

The past two years have been what some people would consider a living nightmare. Amadeus overdosed on drugs. Actually he was poisoned, most likely at the hand of someone he regarded as a friend.

If they were trying to kill Amadeus, it didn’t work. Instead of killing him, the overdose put Amadeus in a coma for five, almost six, long, grueling, months. Days then ran together—weeks, weeks into months. Whoever was responsible has yet to be caught. There are suspicions, but not enough to arrest them.

I was pregnant with our first child when this all happened. I became obsessed with overseeing Amadeus’s care. I didn't listen to the doctors. Not even when his doctors as well as mine warned me the stress I was under was not good for the baby. I continued my daily vigilance, putting him before me or our unborn child.

I paid dearly, too. Wolfgang Amadeus Tudor was stillborn. I was surrounded by all of Amadeus’s family when we held a closed memorial service. Peter McNichol came—he was the only one outside the immediate family invited. Peter had become family to both Amadeus and me. Everyone was there except for the most important person in my life…Amadeus.

Amadeus and I never spoke of Wolfgang after our initial conversation when he woke up. We spent months going about the business of getting Amadeus fit and back into a routine. Our days were filled with physical therapy sessions. At first, a therapist came and worked with Amadeus several times a week.

After that, I would take him to therapy alternating with the gym. At the gym, I would join him in his exercises and routines on the various pieces of workout equipment. I needed it as much as he did; an outlet for my pent up frustration. Amadeus’s physique began to change. He had always been somewhat fit for a musician, but now – while I won’t say he became obsessed with his physical appearance, he became definitely more conscious of the importance of good health. He wanted to get back on the road and tour. He wanted to forget or try to forget what had happened to him and to our son.

Conversation between the two of us stayed minimal, courteous at best. Non-existent became the norm. Both his doctors and his family, along with Peter, picked up on the cold distance of our existence and begged us to seek out therapy. We did, and that was where it all came apart.

We were attending one of our bi-weekly sessions together, which I had thought had been progressing rather nicely. Amadeus and I were actually discussing what had occurred to him, and subsequently, the topic of Wolfgang came into the conversation. We were both able to acknowledge our grief over his loss to each other.

Blame was not in my mind. If there was any fault to be had, it was mine. I told Amadeus just that.

If there is anyone to blame, it’s me, Amadeus. I can make a million excuses for why it happened—from caring for you, to it was out of our hands, to it was what we were going to be dealt.

And that was all it took for all the pent up rage which had been steeping in Amadeus to erupt.

It is your fault, Zara! It’s all your fucking fault, and I’ll never forgive you for it! His dark brown eyes bore right through me as he stood in front of me. In all the time I had known Amadeus, I had never seen such a cold, hateful look. You were selfish, Zara. And because of your selfishness, our son died.

When he finished his wrath, he stood by the windows looking out over the parking lot, his jaw set, a muscle twitching in his cheek, ignoring me and my reaction. For me, I knew right then we both needed space.

I rose and picked up my pocketbook from its place beside my chair. The doctor who had watched the entire episode unfold began to speak. I shook my head and walked out of his office.

I immediately drove back to the condo, packed a bag, and gathered all my important papers such as my passport. As I walked out, I picked up my favorite photograph taken of the two of us in happier times. I removed it from the frame, put it in my case along with my lap top, and left.

By the time I was behind the wheel of my car, I was bawling uncontrollably. I didn’t want to lose Amadeus, but I knew right now I was the last person he needed close to him.

I stopped at an ATM and withdrew the maximum the card would allow. Then in a lucid moment, I decided to go to the bank. I still had an account in my name from before we were married I had kept open. I transferred more than enough money into the account, knowing I would be taken care of should Amadeus decide to stay mad at me—or worse, become spiteful. It wasn’t in his nature, but neither of us had ever before been dealt the hand we were playing. Neither of us was thinking clearly.

I got back in the car and began to drive. I simply wanted to get out of town. I knew that Portland or points south would be the first places Amadeus would search for me, if and when he did. He knew how fond I was of southern California and would assume that would be where I would go. I needed to be by myself. I needed to be away from anything that was familiar and reminded me of him. Even going to the ocean would be too familiar. Instead, I decided to head east, over the Cascades, and into eastern Washington. I had no destination in mind. I simply wanted to put some miles between Amadeus and me.

During the long drive, I decided I would stop at an old girlfriend’s home in northern Idaho. I also decided I would call Amadeus and at least let him know I was fine. I’d go to the British Isles for the summer. It would give Amadeus and me both some much needed time apart to think things through.

Barb was elated to see me, even on such short notice. We had been college roommates and had kept in touch over the years. I explained what had happened between Amadeus and me as well as I could without breaking down.

Perhaps a change of scenery is what you need, Zara. Put some space between the two of you. It’s hard enough to lose a child, but to lose a child the way the two of you did on top of Amadeus’s medical situation, it doesn’t surprise me.

I sat before her and sobbed. When I finally got a hold of myself, I spoke. I can’t lose him, Barb. I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I know he’s hurting, but I won’t allow him to take it out on me. Hell, I’m hurting, too.

I know, Zara. Look, the two of you have a strong relationship, which I think will be your saving grace. You both simply need a break from each other so you can begin the healing process.

I nodded my head. You’re right, I know that.

Just stay in touch with him. You’ll both figure it out. Your relationship goes back a long time. You each know the other better than most couples, and most importantly, you both love each other unconditionally.

Barb walked over and hugged me. I hung on to her. I knew she was right; however painful the next month or however long it took, Amadeus and I would work through this.

I placed a call to Amadeus that evening. He picked up his cell after two rings.

Zara, are you okay?

I’m fine, Amadeus. I’ve decided—I need, I think we both need some time apart right now. We’ve been through so much in just the past few months.

When do you plan on coming home?

I don’t know right now. I don’t think we need to be together, though. We’re both hurting, and we obviously can’t talk to each other.

Then I guess there’s nothing more to say. You’ve obviously made up your mind. In fact, you know what? I think this is a damned good idea, Zara. I can’t stand to be around you right now anyway.

Amadeus, I choked out, I didn’t call to fight with you or to listen to you be mean. I called to tell you that I’m fine and where you can find my car so you can send someone to get it. I’ll call you in a week or so, okay?

Do you need any money?

I could tell he was holding back his emotions full fold. He was