A Hint of Rapture (28 page)

Garrett could continue his fruitless search until
General Hawley came to ravage the valley, and even then they wouldn't find the
man they were seeking. That man didn't exist! Garrett would never believe she
was Black Jack unless—

"Ye must ride with me," she said, giving
voice to her numbing realization. Her eyes held each man's in turn. "All
of ye. 'Tis the only way."

"Aye," Angus affirmed, nodding gravely.
"We must ride together."

"I'll not say a word against it," Ewen
agreed. "Duncan?"

"Ye may count me in, Maddie," he blurted
excitedly, as if his life were not soon to be in danger. "As soon as we're
finished here, I'll set out for Beinn Bhuidhe and tell Kenneth and Allan. Ye
know they'll ride with us. 'Twill give them a chance to settle a 7ew scores
when the redcoats come upon us."

"What do ye mean?" Madeleine asked, startled.

"Ye canna think we would allow them to lead us
away by the nose like meek cattle," Angus said with a short laugh. "
'Tis not the Highlander's way, and ye know it well, Maddie Fraser. If we
surrender easily, Captain Marshall might think ye rounded up some of yer
villagers for a midnight masquerade ball, the whole lot of us passing ourselves
off as Black Jack and his men."

"Aye, 'tis true," Ewen interjected.
"He'd no more believe we were his dangerous outlaws than if he'd found ye
alone."

Angus came around the table and put his work-callused
hand on Madeleine's shoulder. "We must fight, Maddie," he continued.
"As we would fight if an entire company of redcoats surprised us during
any of our raids. As we would fight if our very lives depended on it. Only then
will Captain Marshall believe he has found his Black Jack."

Madeleine shivered, a cold chill cutting through her
body. She knew if such a skirmish took place, there would be casualties on both
sides. Maybe herself, maybe Garrett, maybe several of his soldiers. Doubtless
one or more of her kinsmen would be wounded or killed before they were
overpowered by sheer strength of numbers and taken captive.

She looked up at Angus, meeting his eyes. He was
usually the most cautious of all her kinsmen. Now here he was, anxious to fight
and die if need be.

She glanced at Ewen, a man she'd known and trusted all
her life, her father's friend. And Duncan, so young, only seventeen. She
thought of Kenneth and Allan Fraser, living in a rude cave for months, yet
riding by her side whenever she needed them.

Such brave men they were, and so dear to her heart.
They had risked everything to take up her cause. She could not deny them their
final stand together. Maybe 'twas best this way after all.

"Very well," she agreed quietly. "We'll
fight."

Angus squeezed her shoulder approvingly. "Ye said
ye already told Captain Marshall where he might find Black Jack?"

Madeleine nodded. "I told him this morning that
Black Jack ventured out only at night from his secret hideout on Beinn
Dubhcharaidh," she recounted. "I mentioned a certain mountain path he
usually traveled which skirts Loch Conagleann, and I urged Captain Marshall to
ambush the outlaw there, rather than wait until he met his men for a
raid."

"A clever plan, lass," Ewen broke in with a
low chuckle, "if 'twas how ye meant to have Black Jack captured
alone."

"Aye," she said, smiling thinly. "I told
Captain Marshall if Black Jack sensed he was being followed, he would melt into
the night and they would never find him. Better to nab him quickly than let him
get away."

"That plan winna work for us now, Maddie,"
Angus said. "What will ye say to him since we're riding with ye?"

Madeleine's expression grew pensive, then she shrugged.
"I'll tell him I've changed my mind, that's all. I'll say I've thought
about it and decided 'tis better if he captures every last one of the outlaws,
just in case General Hawley winna be satisfied with only Black Jack. 'Tis more
than plausible."

"So where will we meet?" Duncan asked
eagerly, leaning forward in his chair.

"At the yew tree at midnight," she replied,
"then we'll set out for Wade's Road. I'll explain to Captain Marshall the
route Black Jack and his men would most likely take if they were planning a
raid for tonight. He and his soldiers will no doubt hide somewhere along the
way." She fell silent, then continued softly. " 'Twill be as much a
surprise for them as for us when we finally come upon each other in the
dark."

" 'Tis a sound plan, Maddie," Angus said
simply. "So be it."

He walked over to the cupboard and grabbed the whiskey
decanter and four glasses, setting them on the table. He filled the glasses and
passed them around, then raised his own high above his head.

"A toast," he stated reverently. "To our
chief, Lord Lovat, God keep him safe to France. To our raid tonight, God grant
us strength and courage to face our enemy. And to Mistress Madeleine Fraser,
the bravest lass ever to walk the heather!"

Exuberant ayes echoed about the cottage as they drank
the fiery liquor. One by one the empty glasses slammed onto the table.

What a stubborn hardheaded lot, Madeleine thought
warmly, accepting their tribute with a tremulous smile. She should have known
that once her kinsmen cast their lot for her cause they would never desert her.

Tears smarted her eyes as she whisked on her shawl and
bid hasty goodbyes. She practically fled from the cottage. She knew she would
break down completely if she heard another such toast, and she had decided long
ago never to let her kinsmen see her cry.

She set out at a brisk pace along the road to Mhor
Manor, wiping away the tears with her palms. She inhaled deeply and filled her
lungs with heather-scented air.

It had grown cooler since she had walked to Farraline
earlier that afternoon. The whistling wind caught at her hair, flipping it
behind her shoulders, and dragged at her skirt. The fresh air steadied her
racing emotions, and she looked around, reveling in the wild Highland beauty.

The sun was hidden behind a bank of ponderous
gray-white clouds, and its rays bathed their ragged borders in gold fire. Occasionally
a bright shaft of light illuminated the barren mountain slopes, then just as
quickly faded, plunging the world into muted color and shadow.

Madeleine threw out her arms and twirled along the
road, her face turned up to the darkening sky. She loved it when a thunderstorm
was brewing. As a child she would rush outside into the rain to dance about and
stomp in the mud puddles. Poor Glenis would run out with a blanket, sputtering
and scolding, and try to catch her until she was soaked to the skin as well.

Madeleine's arms dropped suddenly to her sides, and she
stopped, overcome by dizziness.

Glenis. She had talked to everyone today but Glenis.
She had been in such a rush to get to Farraline and see her kinsmen that her
faithful servant still did not know what was to happen that night. And now the
plans had changed, becoming even more deadly.

She quickened her pace, oblivious to the rugged scenery
she had delighted in only moments ago. Her mind sped with everything she had
yet to say and do.

Glenis would have to leave Mhor Manor as soon as
Garrett and his soldiers rode out in their pursuit of Black Jack, she decided
grimly.

She would give Glenis what little gold coin she had to
help provide for her future needs, and a sturdy horse and cart for traveling.
Glenis could stay the night at Meg Blair's, then set out in the early morning
for her widowed owed sister's cottage in Tullich. Glenis would be safe there,
far away from the horrors of whatever was happening at Mhor Manor.

Madeleine turned into the drive, spying Garrett almost
immediately where he stood conversing with his guards. He looked over and began
to walk toward her.

Her heart thudded painfully at the sight of him. She
met his eyes for an instant and then forced herself to turn away. She headed quickly
for the kitchen door, but he followed right behind her.

"Madeleine," he called out, his long strides
no match for her own. He caught her arm gently, and she stopped. "I've
been wondering when you'd get back," he said.

His gaze raked over her and settled on her windburned
cheeks and tangled hair. He swept a stray lock behind her ear, his fingers
grazing her earlobe. She shivered, marveling that his simple touch could arouse
her so.

"Has the babe come yet?" he inquired lightly.

"Babe?" Madeleine replied, confused. She
gasped, suddenly remembering her excuse of a kinswoman near childbirth. She
nodded vigorously. "Aye, 'tis a fine strapping boy, born just an hour
past," she blurted out, noting he was eyeing her quizzically.

"Mother and child are doing well?" he asked,
a curious smile playing about his lips.

She laughed nervously. "Och, they couldna be
better, though 'twas a good thing I brought more of Glenis's herbs. 'Twas a
long, difficult birth." She glanced pointedly at the kitchen door.
"Glenis is waiting for a full accounting, Garrett," she rushed on.
"She's a keen interest in birthing bairns, ye know. Even though she's too
old for midwifery now, she likes to keep up on such things." She paused,
catching a breath. "If ye'll kindly excuse me."

"By all means," Garrett allowed gallantly,
caressing her arm before he released her. "Perhaps after you've spoken
with Glenis, we could share supper tonight. Say, in an hour? We won't be able
to linger very long, but I'd be honored by your company, even for a short
while."

Madeleine stopped midway through the door, her pulse
racing as she considered his unexpected invitation.

She didn't like the thought of being alone with him
again, recalling the mixed torrent of emotions she had experienced at
breakfast, but there didn't seem to be any way to avoid it. Supper would
probably be her only opportunity to talk with him privately before he rode out,
and he had to know her change of heart concerning Black Jack's compatriots.

Besides, an hour would give her just enough time to see
to everything Glenis might need and counter any of her protests about leaving
Mhor Manor.

Madeleine peeked at him over her shoulder. "Aye,
I'll sup with ye, Garrett," she said. Then she disappeared into the
kitchen and closed the door.

Garrett stood there a moment, a familiar sense of
bewilderment washing over him. He had experienced it during his every encounter
with Madeleine since . . .

He had first felt it that morning when she had asked
him abruptly to leave the room, hiding herself from him as if he hadn't so
recently delighted in the wondrous perfection of her body. Her subdued greeting
had hardly been the welcome he had expected after the wildly passionate night
they had shared.

Then at breakfast, she had been thoroughly preoccupied
despite the seriousness of their conversation. Even when their talk changed to
more lighthearted topics and he had reached his fingers out to touch hers, she
had pulled her hand away. She had seemed agitated and had finally excused
herself, saying she had to change clothes and then journey into Farraline to
see after her kinswoman.

He sighed heavily, staring at the door in
consternation.

Her behavior had been peculiar at best, and highly
disconcerting. He could not help wondering if there really had been a new birth
in Farraline. He could swear she had no idea what he was talking about when he
first asked her about the babe. Yet why would she have made up such a story?

Garrett shrugged, at a complete loss. He walked back
toward his men, shaking his head.

Maybe it was he. Maybe he was so distracted with the
thought of finally capturing Black Jack that he was imagining difficulties
where none existed.

He couldn't wait until the bastard was clapped in
chains and the whole unpleasant matter settled once and for all. Then he could
devote his entire attention to Mistress Madeleine Fraser!

Chapter 19

Madeleine peered out the kitchen window, taking care to
hide well behind the curtain. She watched until the last of Garrett's soldiers disappeared
down the drive, their shapes swallowed up by the deepening dusk.

A jagged streak of lightning suddenly cut across the
sky, briefly illuminating the dark world outside. She glimpsed them once more
before she turned from the window. Garrett was in the lead on his huge bay,
followed by twenty-four mounted soldiers riding in pairs.

Madeleine leaned against the windowsill. She still
couldn't get over the frenzied activity of the past half hour. One moment she
and Garrett had been eating supper in the dining room and engaging in light
conversation, then she had abruptly mentioned Black Jack and everything had
changed.

Garrett had almost dropped his fork when she said she
had changed her mind about Black Jack's men. His eyes had bored into hers, his
mouth tightening as she told him she believed he might find the entire band of
outlaws on the narrow road between Errogie and Inverfarigaig.

That had been the end of supper. Garrett had excused
himself immediately, saying that he and his men were setting out at once to
position themselves along the road. It might be hours before Black Jack rode
by, but at least they would be well hidden and ready.

Within minutes Garrett and his soldiers had assembled
in front of the house, Sergeant Fletcher's sharp commands mingling with the
excited buzz of men's voices and neighing horses. A heavy drizzle had done
little to dampen the soldiers' enthusiasm.

There had been an air of nervous excitement among them
that had chilled Madeleine to the marrow. To her, it had seemed like a macabre
carnival. She knew within hours many of them would be dead.

Madeleine heaved a ragged sigh and pushed away from the
windowsill. She could not think of that right now. She crossed the kitchen and
knocked on Glenis's door.