A Hint of Rapture (43 page)

"Love had nothing to do with it," she said
heatedly, throwing off the heavy tartan bedspread. " 'Twas lust, pure and
simple."

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her gaze
falling on the large wooden tub and her robe lying crumpled on the floor beside
it. The telling scene only heightened her chagrin. She padded over and picked
up the robe to shake it out. The apricot satin was stained from its unexpected
soaking and probably ruined.

Serves ye right, she scolded herself, whisking the damp
garment about her shoulders and hurrying to the door. All she wanted to do
right now was get dressed, and her everyday clothes were in the other room.

Madeleine held her breath as she peered out into the
silent hallway, finding it empty. She dashed to her chamber, her bare feet
making little sound, and bolted the door once she was inside. She leaned
against it, reveling in her familiar surroundings.

At least she would have some privacy this morning, she
thought with relief. Once her things were moved into Garrett's room, she would
no longer have any excuse to seek the refuge of her chamber. And he would be
coming and going as he pleased, whether she was dressing or not!

She jumped at the sudden knock on the door, darting
away when the outer latch was rattled.

"Madeleine, are you in there?" Garrett's deep
voice called out to her. "Open the door."

She swept back her tousled hair and moved reluctantly
to the door, unbolting it and lifting the latch. She cracked it, peeking out at
him warily.

"What are you doing?" he asked softly,
pushing the door open a little wider with his shoulder. "I was thinking to
wake you, but you weren't in bed—"

"I came in here to change," she interrupted
him, meeting his probing eyes. "My everyday gowns are in this
wardrobe." She felt her heart beat faster as he smiled in understanding,
but she tried to ignore it. "I was going to move them into our room"
—she flushed at the intimate memories those two words provoked— "after I
changed."

"You might have to wait until later for that,"
he replied. "Meg Blair and Kitty Dods are downstairs. They said you had
asked them to come and help clean up the house."

"Aye, that I did," she said, remembering her
brief encounter with Meg the day before. "If ye'll have them wait for me
in the dining room, Garrett, I'll be there shortly."

He nodded, glancing down at the steaming pitcher of
water he was holding. "I brought this for you, but be careful. The water's
quite hot."

Madeleine took the pitcher from him, her hands brushing
against his. She started, shocked by their warmth when hers were so cold.

"Thank ye," she said shakily, avoiding his
eyes as she quickly shut the door. She sensed him lingering in the hall for a
moment, and she found it difficult to breathe normally until his footsteps
sounded on the side stairs.

How could he have such power over her. How could he
unnerve her so easily, now more than ever, she wondered, walking to the
washstand. Nothing had changed. He was King George's spy, and she was his
unwilling wife.

Not so unwilling, she mused darkly, setting down the
heavy pitcher. Aye, that much had changed. Last evening her desire for him had
blazed like a wildfire out of control, a fire she feared could easily flare
again.

Och, dinna think of it! she bade herself, but her
fingers trembled as she slid the robe from her shoulders. She tied back her
hair, then poured the hot water into the washbasin and bent over it. She
plunged in her hands to warm them, splashing her face again and again.

She bathed and dried herself quickly, shivering from
head to toe, her breath hanging in the air like a misty vapor. It was plain she
would have to light a fire in every fireplace from now on to ward off the
evening chill. Glenis had always seen to that before—

Madeleine's mouth drew into a tight line as she pulled
a simple woolen gown from the wardrobe and dressed hurriedly.

Glenis was gone, never to return. The fireplaces were
her responsibility now, as was everything in the household, including the
kitchen. Meg and Kitty would probably agree to stay on and help her, yet it was
her duty to see that things ran smoothly.

After all, she thought grimly as she stepped out into
the hallway, she was no longer an outlaw. She had to find something to keep
herself busy until Garrett's soldiers arrived from Fort Augustus. At least then
she would be able to visit her kin in Farraline and around the valley.

She walked down the main staircase, thinking of the
days that stretched ahead. What with her numerous household duties and paying
calls in Strathherrick, she and Garrett would see very little of each other,
except at night.

Keen anticipation coursed through her at the thought,
shocking her with its bold intensity. Angrily she forced it away, a new resolve
burning within her. Her lust had clearly overcome her better judgment once, but
she would not allow it to happen again. Perhaps if she went to bed late enough
this evening, he would already be asleep.

Aye, that's exactly what she would do, she decided,
turning into the dining room. She stopped in her tracks as Meg and Kitty jumped
up from their chairs and curtsied clumsily.

"What are ye doing?" she asked incredulously.
"Get up, the both of ye." She immediately sensed that their awkward
behavior had something to do with her being the wife to an Englishman. "
'Tis me, yer Maddie Fraser. I havna changed, nor grown two heads, no matter
what ye might have heard."

Usually so lively, Meg was strangely subdued.
"Should Kitty and I call ye Lady Marshall," she mumbled, glancing at
the pretty, red-haired girl beside her, "now that ye're married to the
major?"

Madeleine swallowed hard, her cheeks burning. So she
was right, she thought. The word was already out. "Ye'll do no such
thing," she replied firmly. "Ye'll call me Maddie, just as ye've
always done. And ye must tell everyone in Farraline to do the same, in case
they're wondering."

The two young women visibly relaxed, even venturing
smiles that clearly showed their relief.

"There, that's much better," Madeleine said,
smiling back. Yet she quickly sobered, waving them into their chairs. She sat
down next to them, her voice falling to a whisper. "Now, before we set to
work, I want ye to tell me exactly what ye've heard in the village. Was it
Angus who told ye I was wed?"

Meg nodded, opening her mouth to speak, but Kitty piped
up before she could say a word.

"There was a ceilidh last night, Maddie, and
everyone came, even the bairns. Angus said ye saved their lives by agreeing to
marry Major Marshall the day before ye were all to hang!" she blurted in
one breath, her eyes shining with awe.

"Aye," Meg added, "they're more than
grateful to ye, Maddie, saying ye're the bravest Fraser lass Strathherrick has
ever known."

"So they dinna think I'm a traitor?"
Madeleine said quietly, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Ye—a traitor?" Meg exclaimed. "I canna
believe ye would say such a thing after all ye've done for us, Maddie. Aye, we
know about the raids and ye giving yerself up to protect Strathherrick from
Butcher Cumberland's bastard brother. And we know ye married the major to spare
yer kinsmen the hangman's noose. Major Marshall admitted as much to
Angus."

"What exactly did the major say?" Madeleine
asked, her temper flaring.

"He told Angus the only way he could secure King
Geordie's pardon for ye was to wed ye, Maddie, but that ye dinna agree to it at
first, saying ye wouldna be a traitor to yer kin," Kitty quickly
recounted. " 'Twas only when ye discovered ye would save Angus and the
others that ye finally agreed."

"Aye, much of that is true, but 'tis a lie about
why he married me," Madeleine said, her eyes flashing indignantly.
"Did the major explain to Angus why he went through such trouble to obtain
a king's pardon?"

Meg and Kitty glanced uncomfortably at each other, Meg
speaking at last. "Angus asked him, Maddie, but Major Marshall said 'twas
between ye and him alone."

"Now there's an evasive answer for ye," she
said through clenched teeth. "And a lie as well. There's nothing between
the major and m'self. Nothing."

Strangely, her words seemed hollow to her. Had last
night truly been nothing? With great effort she drove the disturbing thought
from her mind, reaching a sudden decision as the young women stared at her
silently.

Since she wouldn't be able to visit Farraline for several
days, she might as well pass on her warning about Garrett through Kitty and
Meg. She could be assured her kinsmen would hear of it before the night was out
with these two chatterboxes serving as her messengers.

She was stunned by her unexpected stab of guilt,
accompanied by a most unsettling sense of betrayal. She was hardly betraying
Garrett, she reasoned with herself, irritated by her prickly conscience. She
was protecting her people!

"I want ye both to listen carefully," she
began, leaning toward them. "When ye go back into the village, I want ye
to let everyone know what I'm telling ye now. 'Tis the truth behind my marriage
to Major Marshall, and a warning to our kin not to be swayed by anything he
might say or do." She lowered her voice, hastily relaying what she
believed were Garrett's true motives in acquiring the king's pardon.

"He offered to spy on us if King Geordie granted
him yer lands and a pardon for ye?" Kitty said with a gasp when Madeleine
had finished.

"Aye."

"And he married ye thinking ye would smooth the
way for him with the Frasers of Strathherrick?" Meg asked, stunned.

"He believes I'll be useful to him, nothing
more," Madeleine said quietly, almost to herself. "Well, he'll soon
realize he's sadly mistaken." She glanced from Kitty to Meg. "I've
changed my mind about ye helping me with the cleaning, at least for a few
hours. I'd rather ye go back into Farraline right now and pass along what I've
told ye. Will ye do that for me?"

"Oh, aye, Maddie," Meg said somberly, her
eyes wide and round. Kitty bobbed her head, her red curls bouncing.

"Good," Madeleine said, walking with them to
the front door. "When ye've finished, come back to the house, but not if
it takes ye 'til well in the afternoon. The days are so short now, and the
nights fall early. I dinna want to worry for ye with these redcoats about Mhor
Manor. They're some of Hawley's foul jackals."

The young women nodded as they stepped outside,
glancing fearfully at the soldiers who seemed to be everywhere; sitting on the
grounds eating their breakfast, leading horses from the stable, talking and
joking among themselves.

"There's so many more now than we saw earlier this
morning," Kitty breathed nervously.

"I'll watch ye walk down the road," Madeleine
assured them softly. "Remember, if it's grown too late stay home, and see
that ye have yer fathers escort ye when ye do return."

"Aye, Maddie," Meg called out as she and
Kitty walked very close together down the drive, holding hands and looking
neither left nor right. When they came to the road, they set off at a run,
their skirts and aprons flapping about their legs.

Madeleine kept her eyes trained on them until they
reached Farraline, then slammed the door against the soldiers' crude laughter.
Bastards! At least she had no doubt that Garrett would keep his own soldiers
well in line.

She stood in the hallway, her hands on her hips as she
surveyed first the dining room, then the drawing room. The place was in such a
shambles she didn't know where to begin—

She jumped as a loud crash sounded from the kitchen,
followed by a blustered oath.

"What in the blazes?" she whispered to
herself, wondering who might be causing such a ruckus. She moved cautiously
through the dining room. Surely Hawley's soldiers had enough food in their
supply wagons that they wouldn't be rummaging around her kitchen.

Madeleine pushed lightly on the door, opening it just a
crack. She peeked into the sunlit room, laughter unwittingly bubbling in her
throat. Before she could stop it, she was chuckling aloud. She had never seen a
more incongruous sight!

Garrett was standing over the raised hearth, his face
and the front of his scarlet uniform covered with a dusting of white flour. He
was plopping large lumps of dough onto the sizzling griddle while behind him
the kitchen appeared to be the scene of a disaster. Flour was everywhere, and
an overturned sugar canister was lying on the floor. Its fall no doubt had
caused the crash she had heard a moment ago.

"Damn!" Garrett cursed suddenly, dropping the
wooden spatula. He brought his hand to his mouth, sucking a scorched knuckle,
heedless to the odor of burning dough wafting from the overheated griddle.

Madeleine clapped her hand over her mouth, but it did
little good. Laughter erupted from her throat in hearty peals as she stumbled
into the kitchen.

Garrett wheeled around, clearly startled. "What
are you laughing at?" he asked defensively, hastily wiping the flour from
his face and brushing the front of his uniform. "I thought you might like
some breakfast." He picked up the sugar canister and placed it on the
table. "I'm baking scones from my grandmother's recipe."

"Ye mean ye're burning the scones." Madeleine
hiccoughed, giggling helplessly. She pointed to the hearth. "Look!"

Garrett glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening at
the black smoke rising from the griddle. He rushed over to the hearth,
obviously uncertain about what he should do. Madeleine could not believe her
eyes when he grabbed two thick tea towels from the cupboard and lifted the
griddle from the hearth, chucking the whole smoking mess out the nearest
window.

She gaped at him, flabbergasted, tears of laughter
running down her cheeks. He smiled sheepishly, shaking his head and chuckling
to himself. Suddenly he began to laugh, a rich sound that echoed about the kitchen.