A Hint of Rapture (21 page)

"My reward is simple, Madeleine. I cannot bear to
see Strathherrick become another Culloden. I'll never forget that day as long
as I live, and it is the same for my commander, Colonel Wolfe. It was his idea
to send me here, to use peaceful means to find Black Jack. You may find it hard
believe, but there are those of us who abhor what has been done to the
Highlands."

Stunned, she looked up at him through dimmed eyes.
"So ye were there, at Culloden."

"Yes," he answered quietly, a shadow passing
across his face. "All of us aren't butchers, Maddie, despite what you may
think. After the battle some of us tried to stop the slaughter—"

"Ye said so during yer fever," she
interrupted, using her palm to smudge away her tears. "Ye cried out such
terrible things. 'Twas my plan to ask ye about it once ye were on yer feet
again."

He swallowed hard, his voice catching. "Yes, it
was terrible, like living through hell on earth. A madness seized our soldiers;
it was a bloody frenzy. Cumberland told us he had intercepted a letter from the
Jacobites saying they'd offer no quarter to the wounded if they won the battle,
so our troops were ordered to do the same."

" 'Twas a lie! My father would never have done
such a thing, nor would my kinsmen!"

"I know, Madeleine. I know. But the damage was
done. Once the massacre was started, there was no stopping it. There was
nothing I could do."

She felt his body tremble as he held her, his face
etched with pain.

"Just as the battle ended, a Highlander not far
from me fell with a gaping stomach wound," he said tonelessly. "When
I heard Cumberland's order to take no prisoners, I ran to the man, hoping to
drag him safely from the field. I wasn't fast enough. I had barely given him a
sip of brandy to ease his pain when another officer shoved me aside and shot the
Highlander through the heart." His voice fell to a hoarse whisper.
"My uniform, my hands, were soaked in his blood. Dammit, the man was
already dying!"

Madeleine blinked, startled to see unshed tears
glistening in Garrett's eyes. She felt her throat tighten painfully, and she
looked away, overwhelmed by his emotion.

She would never have thought to hear such a story from
a redcoat. It shook her long-held belief that all Englishmen were murderers and
the devil's spawn. Garrett seemed all too human, with feelings and a deep sense
of right and wrong. Perhaps that was even harder for her to bear.

Such knowledge battered the defenses she had built up
within herself, the hatred and distrust that had already been weakened by the
intimate moments they had shared. Despite her accusations, she could not deny
the stirring power Garrett held over her.

"Madeleine."

She glanced up, meeting his eyes. His gaze was somber,
piercing into her own.

"As mistress of Farraline, you can help me,"
he said, his voice throbbing with intensity. "I would like nothing more
than for the Frasers of Strathherrick to live in peace . . . for you to live in
peace, among your people. I ask only that you consider what I've said. Please.
Please weigh everything carefully. It's been a terrible shock for you, but it
is God's truth. Just remember, I've only got three weeks."

Madeleine dropped her gaze as he finally released her.
Her mind was spinning and her thoughts and emotions were raging a furious
battle. She sensed he was telling the truth, yet she could not bring herself to
believe it. She needed time to think.

"I want to go home," she said, turning away.
She heard him sigh heavily. His voice was weary, resigned.

"Very well."

While Garrett gathered up the refuse from their meal,
she walked to her mare and mounted. She did not wait for him. She flicked the
reins, and the mare galloped up the hill.

She avoided Wade's Road altogether and set off at a
hard pace northward across the valley. She barely noticed the vibrant purple patches
of heather, just beginning to bloom, a sign of the approaching autumn.

It did not take long for Garrett to catch up with her.
When he reined in his bay beside her mare, she did not acknowledge his
presence. Nor did she answer when he said her name.

Garrett did not speak again. Theirs was a long, silent
ride back to Mhor Manor, accompanied only by pounding hooves and the whistling
wind around them.

Chapter 14

"What's wrong, lass?" Glenis asked as she
cleared the supper dishes from the kitchen table. "Ye've hardly said a
word today" —she picked up Madeleine's plate, shaking her head in
disapproval— "and ye've not eaten but a mouthful of food. 'Tis been the
same for two days. Tell yer Glenis what's on yer mind this minute, or I'll harp
at ye 'til ye do!"

Madeleine stopped gazing out at the black night and
turned from the window, her eyes meeting Glenis's. "How is it ye always
know when something's amiss, Glenis?"

"Humph, lass, ye've made no effort to hide yer
troubles from me. When ye winna eat my fine cooking, when ye winna talk but to
answer aye or nay I know! Now I've had enough of yer brooding. Are ye not
feelin' well? Was it yer raid last night?"

"No, 'tis not the raid, and I feel fine,"
Madeleine said, toying with her spoon. She winced inwardly. She was hardly
fine.

How could she tell Glenis about the terrifying decision
she had made? It was difficult enough to admit to herself she was frightened,
let alone reveal her fear to someone else, even if that person was Glenis.

"Maddie—"

Madeleine heaved a sigh. "Och, Glenis, ye've a
right to know," she admitted aloud. " 'Twill affect yer life as well
as mine."

"What are ye talkin' about, Maddie?" Glenis
asked, clearly confused. She set down the plate and pulled out a chair.

"Aye, 'tis a good idea to sit down,"
Madeleine said cryptically. "Ye'll not like what I have to tell ye, any
more than I like saying it."

Glenis leaned forward in her chair, her dark eyes
searching Madeleine's. "Dinna leave me wondering, lass. Out with it
now!"

Madeleine exhaled sharply. "When Garrett and I
went for a ride together to Foyer's Falls a few days ago—"

"What happened?" Glenis gasped, clasping
Madeleine's hands tightly. "He dinna touch ye, did he?"

"No, Glenis, no. Just hear me out." She kept
her voice low as she recounted what Garrett had said to her about General
Hawley, his plea for her to help him and lastly, her decision. Glenis s hands
began to tremble, and Madeleine's heart went out to her old servant, who
listened so quietly to her grim news.

When Madeleine finished, a heavy silence fell over the
kitchen. It was finally broken when Glenis rose from her chair and picked up
some dishes, her movements slow and wooden as she walked to the wash table. She
methodically scraped the plates and dumped them into a large pan of steaming
water, but instead of scrubbing them, she just stood there, staring at the
wall.

"Glenis—" When Madeleine received no response
she jumped up and rushed over to Glenis's side. There were tears streaking her
servant's lined face.

Madeleine threw her arms around Glenis's shaking
shoulders, assailed by guilt. She shouldn't have been so abrupt, she should
have prepared her somehow. Worst of all, she didn't know what she could say to
comfort her.

"So ye're going to give yerself up," Glenis
said softly, turning her to look at Madeleine. "I always knew 'twould come
to this one day. From the first moment ye told me ye were plannin' to raid the
English, I knew."

" 'Tis the only thing I can do," Madeleine
replied, swamped by a sense of desperation. "Surely ye can see that,
Glenis. I canna risk the lives of our kin on the slim hope that Garrett is
lying, or even exaggerating the danger. I'd be a fool to take such a chance. I
have to believe the danger is very real. Tell me ye understand!"

"Aye, I understand," Glenis said softly,
wiping her damp eyes with her apron. "Though it doesna make it any easier
for me. Have ye said anything to him yet about helpin' him to find his Black
Jack?"

"No, and I winna, not for another week or
so."

"Surely he'll demand an answer from ye, lass. The
captain does not appear to be a man to be trifled with, even though he's shown
himself to be fairer than most. Ye said he had less than three weeks
left."

"I already gave him my answer yesterday morning. I
told him I couldna help him."

Glenis looked at her sharply. "Ye speak in
riddles, lass, and ye're playin' with my poor heart. Which is it to be?"

"I only told him I knew nothing of his outlaw
because I needed to buy m'self more time, Glenis. I'll not help him 'til I've
provided enough food for our kin to last the winter. 'Twill take another half
dozen good raids to fill the cave on Beinn Dubhcharaidh. Then," she
emphasized, "I'll give m'self up, with enough time to spare before that
devil Hawley sets foot from Fort Augustus, if he's indeed planning such a
move."

"Do Angus and the rest of yer kinsmen know of yer
decision, lass?" Glenis asked quietly.

"No, not yet," Madeleine replied, a brittle
edge to her voice. "First I must think of a way to spare them whatever
fate the English have in store for me. I'll not have them suffer for following
my cause. And if they wonder why we're raiding so much during the next few days
I'll tell them the truth, that we must fill the cave for the winter."

Glenis sighed raggedly. "Och, lass, 'twill be hard
goin' on as before, knowin' what I do now. I'm fearin' for ye, lass." She
faltered, fresh tears coursing down her hollow cheeks.

"Ye must, Glenis," Madeleine insisted softly.
"If ye're strong, 'twill help me to be strong. We canna show our fear,
especially when I may need ye to cover for me in the days ahead. Ye must keep
yer wits about ye more than ever. Are we agreed?"

"Aye." Glenis grabbed Madeleine's arm, a plea
shining in her dark brown eyes. "Ye must let me know when ye tell the
captain, Maddie. I dinna want to wake up some morning and find the redcoats
have taken ye away . . ."

"Dinna fear," Madeleine soothed her, a hard
lump in her throat. "And we'll work something out fore when I do, for I'll
not have ye bearing any of blame." She gave Glenis a fierce hug, then
released her. She glanced over her shoulder at the half-cleared table.
"Let me help ye with the dishes, Glenis," she offered.

"No, hinny, I'll manage," Glenis objected
with a weak smile. "I think I'd like to be alone for a while . . . if ye
dinna mind."

Madeleine nodded and quickly left the kitchen, un- able
to bear the pain she saw etched in Glenis's eyes. All she could think of was
seeking the solace of her bedchamber.

She had wrestled with confiding in Glenis since she
returned from Foyer's Falls, and now that she had, her emotions were spent. She
ignored the soldier standing guard in the dimly lit hall and reached for the
banister.

"Damn!"

She started at the softly uttered curse, recognizing
Garrett's voice. It had come from the drawing room. She immediately thought to
run up the stairs and avoid him once again, as she had done so well since their
encounter yesterday.

It had been a brief but unpleasant scene. Garrett had
said little when she told him she couldn't help him; only his eyes had registered
his shock and dismay. There was also a trace of suspicion, as if he did not
quite believe her. His frustration was evident when he abruptly left her and
joined his men, who were waiting for him in front of the manor house. She had
never seen him lash his bay so harshly as when they rode out to spend another
long day searching the valley.

Madeleine hesitated at the landing, unsure what she
should do. If she continued to purposefully avoid him, he might suspect her all
the more. Perhaps it was better to seek out his company and act as if she had
nothing to hide. Her heart began to pound at the thought, and she walked
nervously toward the drawing room.

She paused in the archway, her eyes widening at the
comfortable scene. Garrett was seated before the hearth, his legs stretched out
in front of him, an opened book in his lap. He appeared so at home, except for
the fact that he was not reading but instead was staring into the leaping
flames with a troubled look on his handsome face. She could well imagine what
he was thinking and quickly determined she would leave at once if he pressed
her further about Black Jack.

"Good evening to ye, Garrett."

Garrett rose suddenly from the chair, the book falling
to the floor with a thud.

"Madeleine," he said, stunned by her
unexpected appearance. Her unadorned beauty never failed to astound him. She
could be dressed in rags and covered with filth but still she would outshine
any woman he had ever known. "I thought you had long since retired for the
evening."

"Glenis and I just finished a late supper,"
she replied. Her gaze moved to the armchair across from his. "May I join
ye? The fire looks so welcome."

"Yes, of course," Garrett said. "You
don't have to ask me if you might sit in your own drawing room,
Madeleine."

She made no comment as she stepped into the room. He
caught a whiff of her scent as she walked past him. It was sweet and clean,
like sunshine, fresh air, and heather. To him it was a fragrance more heady
than the most expensive perfume. It aroused his senses, making him all the more
aware of the startling effect she had on him.

Drawing a deep breath, he picked up the book and sat
down, watching quietly as she settled herself. He could not help but wonder why
she was joining him when she had gone out of her way to avoid him these past
few days.

Except for yesterday, he thought dryly. He found his
mood darkening once more, despite Madeleine's stirring presence. Should he ask
her again? Her adamant denial had not totally convinced him she knew nothing
about Black Jack. And after today's fruitless search for leads, he was still no
closer—