A Hint of Rapture (19 page)

Thunderous desire ripped through him, his senses
reliving the fleeting instant at the loch when he had held Madeleine in his
arms. He could feel once again her firm breasts pressed against him, her lips,
warm and exciting, opened to him like the ruby-red petals of a flower to the
sun, moist and eager for his kiss. With supreme effort he forced his mind back
to the urgent matter at hand, though his body was not so easily swayed.

Think of your mission! he berated himself. Your duty!
When so many innocent lives were at stake, this was not a time to think of his
own selfish needs, his burgeoning desire—

Garrett started. For the first time he realized that
was exactly what he had been doing. He had been thinking only of himself. He
stared at Madeleine, who was drawing ever closer, though she had slowed her
pace.

Well, no more, he thought grimly. The sooner he spoke
with her about Black Jack, the better. Either she would believe him and agree
to help him, telling him anything she knew about the outlaw, or she would not.
Of course, there was always the chance she knew nothing.

Garrett turned away, frowning. He didn't even want to
consider that possibility! He addressed his sergeant, keeping his voice low so
it would not carry.

"Fletcher, see that the men go about their
assigned duties today," he ordered quietly. "Double the guard as we
discussed, and send a patrol of four men on horseback to Farraline. Have them
check in every two hours, then on the sixth hour change the patrol. Any
questions?"

"No, sir," Sergeant Fletcher said, hauling
his bulky frame to his feet. He glanced beyond Garrett's shoulder to Madeleine,
who was strolling through the dense fir trees bordering the disheveled lawn.
His expression was anxious as he sought his commander's face once again.
"Are you sure you want to tell her, captain?"

Without a word, Garrett nodded firmly. He turned and
strode across the lawn, ignoring his stiff, aching muscles. He easily narrowed the
distance between himself and Madeleine.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly, noting
the wariness in her stunning blue eyes. It hurt him that there was little
welcome shining in those amazing depths, yet his amiable tone did not betray
his feelings. "I see you've been for a swim."

Madeleine stopped, gripping her towel in both hands.
Garrett's deep voice thrilled her, though she tried hard not to show it. She
swiftly appraised him.

She almost had not believed her eyes when she saw him
standing near the cooking tent. She had expected him to remain in bed for at
least another day or so. Now here he was, looking none the worse for his
illness.

"Good day to ye, Captain Mar—," she paused,
then quickly decided it made no difference. "Garrett." She avoided
the unnerving subject of the loch altogether, an intimate moment she would
rather forget. "Ye're looking well."

"Yes, I feel much better," he said, smiling.
"I wanted to thank you again for what you did for me. It was so . . .
unexpected."

" 'Twas no matter," she mumbled, pretending
interest in a colorful patch of wildflowers.

Better to squelch any ideas he might have about why she
had nursed him, she thought nervously. She didn't want him to imagine that she
cared.

She glanced back at him and said nonchalantly, "Glenis
couldna tend ye all on her own, Garrett. She needed my help. I canna have her
working herself to the bone for every crisis besetting my house. We seem to
have quite an abundance these days."

Madeleine saw that her words had the desired effect.
His face darkened, but only for a moment. In the next instant he was studying
her curiously, as if he was trying to discern her thoughts. She lowered her
eyes, suddenly flustered.

"Would you like to go for a ride, Madeleine?"
he asked, ignoring her breezy statement. "I would relish the exercise and
it would give us a chance to talk privately. I have a matter of some importance
to discuss with you."

Madeleine fought to breathe steadily and to keep her
voice calm. "Glenis said ye asked about going for a ride the other
day."

"Yes, I did," he said with a short laugh.
"That was before . . ."
 
He
indicated the healing gash on his forehead with a wave of his hand. "It
was postponed a few days, that's all. Perhaps we could ride along Loch Ness, on
Wade's Road? I enjoy that route, and Foyer's Falls is breathtaking."

"Aye, 'tis a beautiful place. One of my
favorites," she agreed, her calm response belying her tumbling thoughts.

At last she would have answers to her plaguing
questions! Neither the previous night's raid nor her morning swim had
distracted her as she had hoped they would. She nodded. "I'll ride with
ye, Garrett."

"Good. Shall we meet within the half hour in front
of the house? I'll have your mare saddled for you."

"Aye, very well. If ye'll excuse me, I'll go and
change." She rushed past him in a flurry of blue skirts, petticoats, and
tousled chestnut curls.

Confused, Garrett watched her disappear around the
house. He had not expected her to accept his invitation so readily, at least
not without some explanation of why he wanted to speak with her. She had
spurned him soundly on every other occasion when he had asked her to accompany
him so they might talk.

Except for yesterday, he thought. Perhaps the short
time they had spent together had softened her opinion of him after all.

Chapter 13

"I'll lead the way, if ye dinna mind,
Garrett," Madeleine said when they set out from Mhor Manor twenty minutes
later. A curious smile tugged at Garrett's mouth, and she thought he might
protest, but instead he inclined his head in deference to her wishes.

"Lead on, Mistress Fraser," he said
gallantly.

She smiled briefly in return and kicked her dun-colored
mare into a gallop. She purposely veered them away from Farraline and the
much-traveled roads connecting the villages in Strathherrick, opting instead
for a lesser known route across the valley.

She had no intention of passing through any villages in
the company of a redcoat. It was bad enough that word had already been spread
that she and Glenis had nursed Garrett back to health. Meg was less trustworthy
than Madeleine had thought, it seemed.

Her kinsmen had questioned her about the rumor when she
met them to plan last night's raid, but fortunately they had accepted her
explanation that Glenis had taken pity on Garrett and required her help. An old
woman's lapse was easily forgiven. She, on the other hand, had to be more
careful.

She could not afford to fan the flames of gossip any
further by riding brazenly at Garrett's side for all to see. Her people trusted
and respected her, and she wanted it to remain that way. If this route took
them longer, so be it. At least her credibility would be preserved.

They rode in uncomfortable silence for the first half
hour, skirting Loch Mhor and the village of Errogie, then headed northwest,
where they forded the River Farigaig.

The lathered horses seemed to enjoy the crossing. The
day was very warm, and the sun was brilliant in the blue sky scattered with
clouds. The river's shimmering depths and shady banks offered a cool respite
from the midday heat.

Madeleine was halfway across the rushing stream when
her mare paused for a long drink. If the river had not been so swollen from
recent rains she would not have cared, but she feared the strong currents might
topple them. She tugged at the reins, but to no avail. The mare would not lift
her head.

"Ye stubborn beast," she said with
exasperation as Garrett drew up alongside her. "On with ye now."

"Problems?" he asked.

" 'Tis plain to see, Garrett. She winna
budge!"

With a hearty laugh he took the reins from her and gave
the recalcitrant mare a good yank. Madeleine nearly lost her seat as the mare
bounded forward after his massive bay, and the horses splashed across the
river. When she and Garrett made it to the shoreline, they were soaked and
laughing uproariously.

She smiled at him through the water droplets clinging
to her lashes. "Will ye look at us," she exclaimed breathlessly.
"We might as well have fallen into the river!"

"We'll be dry soon from this heat," Garrett
said with a grin. He reached out and gently wiped a damp tendril from her
flushed cheek. "The water felt good, though, didn't it?"

"Aye," Madeleine replied, sobering at his
touch. She felt a flutter deep inside her breast as he handed her the reins. It
was all she could do to murmur her thanks.

They resumed their journey, but the strained tension
between them had been lifted. Madeleine began to point out sights of interest
here and there, especially when they reached Wade's Road. Loch Ness stretched
to the north and south as far as the eye could see, a great expanse of smooth,
blue-gray water flanked by sweeping green hills and steep rock walls dropping
into its depths.

There was a decidedly gloomy air about the loch,
despite the bright sunshine. Perhaps it was because the waters were so vast and
so deep. Or perhaps it was the eerie stories that leaped to mind whenever one
beheld the mysterious loch. Madeleine shuddered, and her skin tingled with
goosebumps.

"Is it true that the Scots believe a monster roams
these waters?" Garrett asked, pulling up beside her. "When I was a
boy my grandmother told me such a tale, and I had nightmares for days."

She glanced at him in surprise, wondering how he had
read her thoughts. "Aye, 'tis true," she replied, staring back out
across the dark water. " 'Tis said to be a great black beast with humps, a
long neck, and wee horns on its head. I've never seen it, but my parents swore
they did once."

"Really? When was that?"

"Long ago, when my mother was carrying me. They
were sitting over there." She pointed to a green plateau high atop a rocky
cliff, aware that Garrett was watching her with a curious mix of wonderment and
skepticism. His interest spurred her on. She enjoyed telling this story
immensely.

" 'Twas a cloudy, late autumn day and the wind was
strong, ruffling the surface of the loch. Suddenly the water began to bubble
and churn. The beast rose up from the depths and cut through the water with
great curved paddles, like black wings. It left a huge wake, then 'twas
gone." She chuckled, a faraway look in her eyes. "Da thought for sure
my mother would birth me there on the cliff, she was so frightened."

"And you believe this story?"

Madeleine stared into his eyes. "Aye, I believe
it, if my father and mother said 'twas so." She said nothing for a long
moment, then gave another little laugh and looked away. "I used to
complain whenever we journeyed by the loch, because I was never gifted with a
sight of the beast." She grew thoughtful, her voice soft and quiet.
"My da always said 'twas a good lesson. 'Maddie,' he would tell me, 'it
teaches ye to believe in something ye canna see.'"

She sighed, touched by a wave of sadness. To think of
her parents together and happy, her father alive and whole. She felt close to
tears but choked them back.

"Your mother must have been very beautiful,"
Garrett said sincerely, startling her. "Why is there no portrait of her at
Mhor Manor?"

"All the family portraits were slashed to ribbons
by the redcoats who came before ye," she replied, watching his eyes darken.

"I'm truly sorry, Madeleine. If I'd been there, I
would have done what I could to prevent—"

" 'Tis over with, Garrett," she said with a
small shrug, cutting off his unexpected apology. "I'd rather not speak of
it."

He fell silent, looking out across the loch, and she
wondered what he was thinking. She felt surprisingly little resentment toward
him. She could hardly blame him for what had happened to her home, nor could
she imagine him ever participating in such madness. She sensed a decency in him
that reminded her of her father.

Madeleine bit her lip, stunned by her comparison.
Dougald had never elicited such thoughts from her, nor tad he ever looked at
her quite the way Garrett did, making her flesh tingle and her heart hammer,
fanning the heat building within her.

No! Dinna forget Garrett is yer enemy! she chided
herself fiercely. Ye canna compare him to yer da or to Dougald. 'Tisn't right!

Oddly enough, her self-reproach rang hollow within her.
Things didn't seem so clear anymore, at least not when she was around Garrett.
He seemed to have the uncanny ability to soften her hatred. He was becoming
less of a redcoat in her eyes and more of a man, a most intriguing man.

With great effort she forced the whole confusing matter
from her mind. "Ye were right about my mother," she began anew.
"She was said to be the prettiest lass in Strathherrick—lively,
sharp-witted, and a bit stubborn when 'twas needed."

"She sounds just like you, Madeleine,"
Garrett said softly.

His compliment caused her to shift uncomfortably in the
saddle. "Do ye see that faraway bluff on the northern shore?" she
asked, abruptly changing the subject. She flushed under his amused scrutiny and
was more than relieved when he looked to where she was pointing. " 'Tis
the ruins of Castle Urquhart. 'Twas a fine castle once, belonging to the
Grants. There's little left now but crumbling walls and a dungeon."

"A dungeon? I suppose it's haunted by ghosts, as
many of Scotland's castles are rumored to be."

"No, I havna heard any stories of ghosts at Castle
Urquhart," Madeleine replied. "But there are two vaults in the
dungeon, left unopened for hundreds of years. One's rumored to have treasure in
it, and the other the plague."

"That's a choice I would not wish to make,"
Garrett said with a deep, rumbling laugh. He glanced back at her, his
expression growing serious. "I've enjoyed these stories, Madeleine, but I
think we should move on to Foyer's Falls. Perhaps we can find a nice spot
overlooking the waterfall where we can rest and talk further. Jeremy was good
enough to pack a lunch for us."