A Hint of Rapture (50 page)

His face was turned toward her, battered and bruised,
one eye swollen shut. She could tell he had been severely beaten. He was
stripped to the waist, his broad back marred by bloodied strap marks. His
breathing was shallow, precious evidence that he was alive. Then she saw the
noose dangling six feet above him. It was hovering, waiting.

Madeleine pushed away from Angus and staggered toward
Garrett, her legs wooden yet gradually regaining strength. She was stayed
suddenly by a massive hand on her elbow. She wheeled on her huge captor, her
blue eyes ablaze.

"Take yer hands from me!" she railed at
Dougald, who towered above her. "Ye've done this deed, haven't ye?"

"Someone take her. Let's be on with this
hanging," he said, shoving her back into Angus's outstretched arms.
"She's been so bewitched by this bastard she no longer knows what she
says."

"Be still, lass, there's nothing ye can do,"
Angus whispered in her ear. " 'Tis been decided by one and all. Yer love
winna save a king's spy, Maddie."

"He's not a spy, Angus, ye must believe me!"
she said frantically. Her words spilled forth in a wild torrent, loud enough so
everyone could hear. "I asked Meg and Kitty to fill yer heads with false
accusations, thinking 'twas the truth. But I was wrong, just as ye're wrong
now. 'Twas Glenis who set me to rights yesterday, when she came to Mhor Manor.
She swore Garrett loved me. 'Twas so plain, but I couldna see it m'self. 'Tis
why he won a pardon for me. He bargained away his estate in England for it!
'Tis why he saved my life and yers as well! 'Tis why he's been trying to help
us. He loves me, Angus, as I love him. I tell ye he's not a spy!"

Angus's hands gripped her arms tightly, his expression
grim. "Ye would swear to this, Maddie?"

"Aye, on my life. I swear it. 'Tis the truth, and
I've never lied to ye, Angus," she declared vehemently. "Ye once told
me ye'd misjudged him. Ye saw for yerself what Garrett did to help our kin.
He's been trying to help us since we got back from Edinburgh, but I turned
against him with my foolish charges."

Madeleine wrenched free my grasp, her gaze settling on
one somber-faced villager after the other. "Major Marshall's a good
man," she said, her voice pleading for reason. "A man ye can trust,
no matter that he's English and a redcoat. None of ye would be alive today if
not for him! He wants to live among us in peace, as I want to live in peace. I
canna bear any more senseless bloodshed and warring."

"Aye, he wants his peace so badly he took my
brother's life to have it!" Allan Fraser exclaimed, pushing forward from
the crowd.

"Ye know 'twas Hawley's surgeon who caused
Kenneth's death," Madeleine objected. "Ye canna blame Major Marshall
for that."

"Aye, 'tis true," Angus added, silencing him.
"Kenneth was felled by the surgeon's knife, and well ye know it,
Allan."

"Dinna ye see?" Madeleine continued
desperately, lancing gratefully at Angus and then back to the villagers.
"If ye hang him, or go through with yer barbaric plan to burn Mhor Manor,
'twill only bring more horrors down upon us. Ye're fools if ye think the Crown
authorities will believe 'twas an accident! And Dougald here," she flung
at her scowling kinsman, "will be safe in France where the redcoats canna
find him. Ye'll be suffering while he enjoys his freedom and dreams of a Stuart
conquest that might never come."

This declaration elicited a low buzz of discussion
among the villagers, some casting suspicious looks at Dougald.

Madeleine approached him, her eyes flashing angrily.
"Ye've not given much thought to what will surely happen to yer kinsmen,
have ye, Dougald? All ye care about is venting yer rage and yer hatred on this
one man because he has been given what fate decreed ye'll never have. Ye're
only concerned for yer own selfish desires!

"I will have ye for my wife by sunset,
Maddie," Dougald growled, "and yer land one day."

"Never," she said fiercely. "I'll never
be yers, Dougald. I'd die first."

"Enough with such talk!" he roared, striding
over to Garrett and roughly pulling him to his feet. " 'Twas decided this
redcoat should hang, and by God, he will!" Two of the other renegade
Highlanders grabbed Garrett by the shoulders while Dougald began to settle the
noose around his neck.

"No!" Madeleine screamed, rushing forward.
She pulled her dirk from its sheath and brandished it at Dougald. "Ye'll
have to kill me first, Dougald Fraser. I'll die before I see my husband
hang!"

A stunned silence fell over the villagers, broken
suddenly by Dougald's uproarious laughter.

"Ye threaten me, ye slip of a lass?" he
mocked her, baring his wide chest to her dirk and advancing on her. "Go on
with ye, then. See what damage ye can do before I wrest yer knife away and
stick it between yer fine husband's ribs," he spat derisively. "When
he's dead and ye're my wife, ye'll ne'er raise yer voice to me again, Maddie.
That I promise ye."

"Garrett Marshall is the only husband I will ever
know," she countered defiantly, shifting her feet to better her stance.

"Aye, and ye'll have to fight me, too," Angus
said suddenly, walking up beside her. "Next to ye, Dougald, I'm an old
man, but I'll fight ye to the death for my Maddie Fraser. We'll have no more
bloodshed in this valley, not if I can help it—unless 'tis yer own that is
spilled."

Madeleine glanced at him, tears brimming in her eyes,
but she quickly wiped them away and faced Dougald once more.

"And me, Dougald," Ewen Burke said quietly,
flanking her other side. "Ye must fight me as well. I stand with the
mistress of Farraline, and her husband."

"Aye, and me!" Duncan cried, joining them. He
was followed by more villagers, men, women, and wide-eyed children, until there
was no one left standing behind them but Allan Fraser.

"I'll not join with ye, Maddie," he said,
walking over to Dougald's side. "But I'll not fight against ye."

" 'Tis been decided, Dougald, and well ye can see
it," Angus stated clearly. "Garrett Marshall shall go free. Take yer
hands from him now—or forever know the scorn of yer clan."

Madeleine held her breath as Dougald stared at them for
a long, long moment. His eyes were full of fury, the battle he was waging
between his own will and the stronger will of the clan evident in his face.
Finally he stepped back, gesturing to the two men who were holding Garrett.

"Release him," he said.

As the noose was lifted over Garrett's head, Madeleine
sheathed her knife and ran to catch him, shouldering his weight while Ewen
rushed over to support his other side.

"Stand away, Dougald," Angus commanded.
"If there comes a time when all fugitives are pardoned and ye may return
to the Highlands, ye'll come in peace or else ne'er set foot in Strathherrick
again. Do ye swear on yer fealty to Clan Fraser?"

"Aye."

"Allan Fraser?"

"Aye, I swear."

"Men of Clan Cameron and Clan Macdonald. Do ye
swear as brothers of our clan?"

"Aye," they said.

"So be it," Angus said evenly. " 'Tis
witnessed. Godspeed to all of ye on yer way to France."

Dougald said no more as he mounted his horse, followed
by the seven Highlanders and Allan Fraser. They set out at a gallop across the
rugged, heather-clad moor, never once looking back.

"Garrett," Madeleine said, stroking his bloodied
hair and bruised face with tender, trembling fingers. "Ye're safe, my
love. We're taking ye home, to Mhor Manor."

Garrett smiled faintly, hearing her words through the
swamping pain that gripped him.

"Yes, take me home, Maddie," he whispered
weakly, feeling her lips lightly brush his mouth. It was the sweetest kiss he
had ever known.

Epilogue

Mhor Manor

September 1747

Madeleine smiled softly as the light breeze fanned the chestnut
tendrils framing her face. She breathed in the fragrant air, scented with
wildflowers and sweet heather.

Aye, 'twas a most special day, she thought happily.
Bright with warm sunshine and bright with promise and hope.

Her heart overflowed with love as she gazed at Garrett.
He was standing beside Master Simon Fraser, eldest son of their late chief,
Lord Lovat. The two men faced the assembled Frasers of Strathherrick, and she
thrilled to the rich timbre of Garrett's voice as he addressed the attentive
crowd, over three hundred strong.

"As Master Simon has claimed, the time for
reconciliation is upon us. There is much hurt to heal between our two peoples,
and perhaps a prejudice that will never be overcome. Yet whatever has gone
before we must not forget we are a united land serving the same king . .
."

Madeleine grew pensive as she listened to him, her
musing inspired by his heartfelt words.

They had come so far since that afternoon last autumn
when the villagers of Farraline had joined with her to save Garrett's life.
Each passing day had brought with it new triumphs and small successes, a slow,
steady building of trust between Garrett and her people that had grown stronger
and flourished before her eyes.

So had their love flourished and strengthened, she
thought warmly, cementing a bond of respect and trust between herself and
Garrett that could never be broken. She had been so happy these past months,
her days spent building a life with the man she loved and her nights spent in
his impassioned embrace, sharing dreams, laughter, love.

Madeleine glanced tenderly at their infant son,
slumbering so peacefully in Glenis's arms. Her happiness had been made complete
at his birth only two weeks ago. They had named him Hugh Geoffrey Marshall,
after her father and Garrett's. Their little son was beautiful, with golden
curls and bonnie blue eyes.

Her gaze sought Garrett once more. He looked so
handsome in his forest-green coat and breeches. He was no longer a soldier
since his military commission had expired. He stood before Clan Fraser not as a
conqueror but as a man who wanted only peace and prosperity for the valley he
loved almost as well as she did. He had not turned his back on England. He had
simply adopted Strathherrick as his own, a part of him as surely as the Scots
blood coursing through his veins.

Madeleine's eyes strayed to her cousin Simon, the young
chief of Clan Fraser, recently released from an Edinburgh gaol. His strong
profile and stout stature echoed so clearly the features of his father.

She sighed faintly, feeling a rush of sadness as she
recalled the mournful day in April when they received news that their Lord
Lovat, Simon the Fox, had been beheaded on Tower Hill for his involvement in
the Jacobite rebellion. His death had led to an understandable setback in
Garrett's efforts with her people, yet gradually the pain and bitterness had
eased, and progress had begun anew. Especially when word came that Master Simon
had been pardoned by King George.

She and Garrett had rejoiced in Master Simon's letter,
filled with his plans to visit Strathherrick and his former holdings in the
Aird before taking up residence in Edinburgh. It was Simon's intent to
encourage reconciliation among his clansmen, hoping that through his efforts he
might one day regain his titles and lands. There was even talk of his forming a
regiment of fighting men for the king, who would be known as the Fraser
Highlanders.

Madeleine's reverie faded as Garrett's words filled her
with quiet joy.

". . . It is time to set aside the hatred of the
past and rebuild, for the future of Scotland, for the future of Great Britain.
I swear on my love for everything I hold dear that I will continue to help Clan
Fraser in this worthy task."

Garrett turned and held out his hand to her, his eyes
smiling into hers. Madeleine clasped his hand proudly and took her place by his
side.

"As my husband has sworn to ye," she stated
loudly, her gaze sweeping her kinsmen, "so do I swear."

Rousing cheers of approval met her declaration,
heightening as Master Simon Fraser gathered their young son gently into his
arms and held him up for all to see.

"This wee babe will grow to manhood among
ye," he shouted, his voice booming out over the din. "He's one of yer
own, a symbol of the blood tie between ourselves and our English countrymen. In
him we'll see our hopes for the future, that we might live in peace. I give ye
Hugh Geoffrey Marshall, heir to Mhor Manor and one day master of
Farraline!"

Garrett squeezed Madeleine's hand, his dream fulfilled
more completely than he ever could have imagined. He stared into her stunning
eyes, seeing a fierce love shining there that burned as brightly as his own.

"I will love ye forever, Garrett Marshall,"
she said softly.

His heart was full. He bent and kissed her smiling lips,
oblivious to all else, including his son's lusty cries.

"Aye, that's my
fine Highland laddie," Glenis crooned to the howling infant as Master
Simon placed him in her arms again. She glanced at Madeleine and Garrett, her
dark eyes twinkling. "Let 'em know ye're in Scotland!"

About the Author

Miriam Minger is the award-winning, critically
acclaimed author of ten historical romances.
 
She also writes inspirational romantic thrillers as M.C. Walker, and is
the co-author of the popular Little Mike and Maddie series of children’s
picture books about a lovable pair of dogs and their motorcycle
adventures.
 

Historical
Romances by Miriam Minger:

Twin Passions

Stolen Splendor

A Hint of Rapture

Captive Rose

Defiant Impostor