Chapter 15

Garrett angrily paced the drawing room, a crinkled piece of paper in his hand. He stopped near the window and pushed aside the curtain, holding the paper up to the fading light.

He read the terse message again, for probably the tenth time. It was written in Colonel Wolfe’s distinctive scrawl, punctuated by numerous ink blotches. The words seemed to jump off the page and burn into his brain.

Black Jack had struck again, this time just west of Inverness. General Hawley was furious and threatened immediate action. It was the seventh successful raid in two weeks, not counting the thirty cattle mysteriously stolen in Glen Tarff, a few miles south of Fort Augustus. Seven blasted raids in two weeks, spread out all over the county…

“Damn Black Jack to hell!” Garrett cursed aloud, turning away from the window. He balled up the paper and stuffed it into his coat pocket. He hated to admit it, but this message was further proof that his peaceful mission was a dismal failure. Despite everything he had done—endlessly searching the valley, interrogating villagers, and recently staking out roads at night—it appeared the elusive brigand was unstoppable.

He sat down heavily in the armchair, pounding his fist on the padded brocade. Time was slipping away from him. General Hawley would no doubt be there within days, maybe sooner from the scathing tone of the message.

Was his mission really going to end as he feared, in flaming cottages and the helpless screams of men, women, and children? Soon it would be nightfall. Would Black Jack ride again, while he and his men chased shadows across the valley?

A flash of forest-green skirt, bright tartan shawl, and tousled chestnut hair caught his attention. He moved once more to the window and watched as Madeleine walked toward the house. She gave no notice to the soldiers standing guard. Her eyes were straight ahead, her step brisk and determined.

So she’s finally returning from Farraline, he thought bitterly. From visiting her people, and her lover. While there were so many lives at stake she busied herself with God-only-knew-what, as if there was nothing amiss, no danger looming on the horizon. Her lack of concern was incredible! Could it be she hadn’t believed him about Hawley after all?

Garrett frowned, at a total loss. He had looked for her earlier, determined to ask her one last time for her help, especially now that he had received this message. He still could not bring himself to believe that she knew absolutely nothing about Black Jack, despite her claim of ignorance. It just didn’t make sense, considering her respected position in the valley.

Glenis had told him merely that Madeleine had gone to the village and would say nothing more. It seemed even the old woman had turned against him, avoiding him at every opportunity. Madeleine had certainly evaded him ever since the night he had gone to her room and fairly forced himself on her, thinking she might feel as he did.

His jaw tightened, a wave of frustration possessing him. Fool! Once again he had allowed his personal desires and misguided emotions to get in the way of his mission. He should have pressed her further, as he had intended. Instead he had been bewitched by her company, her smiles, and his own fantasies of how things might be between them when Black Jack was captured.

Garrett flinched as the front door slammed and Madeleine’s light footsteps sounded in the hall. He strode from the drawing room, almost bumping into her. She jumped back, startled, and clutched her basket tightly. It was plain to see that he had unnerved her.

“I was wondering when you might return from the village,” he said, gesturing for the guard to disappear. The man obeyed him quickly, ducking into the hall leading to the soldiers’ sleeping quarters. “We have to talk, Madeleine.”

Madeleine stared at him wide-eyed, aware of the nervous flutter in her stomach and the heat flooding her body. She had scarcely seen him since…

She forced the potent memory from her mind, not trusting herself to remain here with him any longer. “I-I’m sorry, Garrett,” she said, conjuring a convincing half lie. “I’m very tired. A kinswoman in Farraline is near childbirth. I may be called back during the night to bring more of Glenis’s herb medicine. Perhaps we can talk in the morning.” She brushed past him and moved toward the staircase.

Aye, she really was tired, she thought wearily. That much was true. She’d spent much of the afternoon planning tonight’s raid with her kinsmen. It would be their last one together, though they didn’t know it yet. Now she needed nothing more than a long nap. Midnight would come soon enough, and she had to be well rested and alert—

She started when Garrett suddenly grabbed her arm.

“No, Madeleine,” he said firmly, turning her about to face him. “This can’t wait until tomorrow.”

His gaze was so insistent she knew she would not escape him. “Very well,” she relented, her heart racing. Was he going to ask her about the other night? she wondered anxiously. Surely he wasn’t going to drill her about—

“Two weeks ago you claimed you knew nothing about Black Jack,” he began, confirming her suspicion. His grip tightened around her arm. “I’ve just received word that there have been seven raids since that day. I’ll ask you once more, Madeleine. Do you know anything at all about this brigand?”

Anger erupted within her at his rough treatment, mixed with a sense of desperation. She couldn’t tell him yet! She had one last raid to complete, then there would be more than enough food in the cave to last the winter. She would tell him in the morning, but not now. She had planned everything so carefully. By tomorrow night, Garrett would have his Black Jack.

“Ye’re hurting me!” she exclaimed hotly. She tried to wrench free, but he held her fast. “I told ye! I know nothing of yer brigand. Now let me go!”

Garrett sighed heavily as he reluctantly released her. She did not wait to see if he had anything further to say but dashed up the stairs, feeling his eyes bore into her back. Once she was in her room, she bolted the door against him. She knew he was still thinking of her, wondering why she would not help him. If he only knew how afraid she truly was.

Ye’ve put him off, lass, ‘tis all that matters, Madeleine assured herself shakily, setting down her basket and throwing off her shawl. She kicked off her brogues and lay down on the bed, hugging her arms to her chest.

How she wished at that moment that she was a little girl again, with no more worries than how she would elude Glenis’s stern and watchful eye, or which of her favorite ponies she should ride across the moor. Life had been so simple and carefree then.

“Ye canna escape yer troubles by wishing them away,” she whispered fiercely. “Ye’re a grown woman now, Maddie Fraser, and ye must face what life has brought to ye.”

She closed her eyes, willing her body to relax even while her thoughts continued to tumble and whirl.

She was astounded by how smoothly the raids had gone so far, despite Garrett’s placing extra patrols in Farraline and on some of the roads surrounding the village. The supply trains had also been more heavily guarded, but the element of surprise had not failed her and her kinsman yet.

With Glenis’s help she had even feigned a slight illness when she and her kinsmen had journeyed overnight to Glen Tarff to steal another herd of cattle. While she was gone, Glenis had virtually camped outside her door for two days, allowing no one in her room, not even Meg.

“‘Tis a woman’s ailment,” was all her faithful servant offered as explanation. It soon would pass, but until then, Madeleine needed complete rest and solitude. Thankfully, Garrett had been deceived.

Aye, that ruse had been risky, as had all her raids, but it was well worth it. The cave at Beinn Dubhcharaidh was nearly stocked from floor to ceiling with barrels, crates, and sacks containing every manner of foodstuff, from salted beef to turnips. If anything happened to her, she could be assured her people would have enough food to survive the winter.

If anything happened to her…

Madeleine shivered, suddenly ice-cold. She rose abruptly from her bed, her hand clutching her throat.

How could she possibly rest when she imagined the noose tightening around her neck with each passing moment? Dear God, where would she ever find the courage to face what was ahead?

She walked swiftly to the door despite the wooden feeling in her legs.

She would speak with Glenis. Glenis never lacked for words of wisdom and strength in trying times; it was her comfort that had seen Madeleine past her father’s death. It would be hard for them to discuss what lay ahead, but it was better than suffering alone. And it was time Glenis knew of her plans.

Madeleine hurried downstairs, grateful there was no sign of Garrett. She ignored the guard who had returned to his post and rushed into the kitchen.

She was disappointed to see that Glenis was not there. She checked her room, but it was empty. She was about to double back and search the rest of the house when she heard a soft knock on the kitchen door.

Her brow knit anxiously. It was dark out already. Who would be about at this supper hour? She thought of her kinsmen and hurried to the door.

She cracked it open, peering outside. She could barely make out an old woman’s stooped figure in the thin sliver of candlelight cast from the kitchen. A large fringed bonnet covered the woman’s bowed head, shadowing her features.

“Forgive me, lassie, for this intrusion,” the woman wheezed in a gruff voice. “Could ye spare a cup of hot tea and a slice of bread for a weary traveler?”

Madeleine hesitated only an instant. She drew open the door, studying her unexpected visitor in the flood of light. “Aye, of course,” she said graciously. “Come in.”

From what little Madeleine could see of the woman’s face, she had never seen her before, and she doubted her visitor was from the valley. If she was a fugitive, Maddie had never seen a more unlikely one. Yet she could not deny this woman her hospitality. It was an unwritten code among the Highlanders that strangers were always made welcome. Except for redcoats, she amended dryly.

“Thank ye,” the woman said, glancing furtively over her shoulder before entering the kitchen. As Madeleine closed the door behind her, she shuffled to the table and immediately sat down, heaving a loud groan of relief. The chair creaked ominously under the woman’s weight.

Madeleine stifled her reaction, but she could not help noticing her visitor was amazingly stout, her hunched shoulders broad and rounded beneath a threadbare shawl. The woman was wearing a gray fustian gown that seemed to lack a clear waistline, appearing almost sacklike in its loose proportion. From beneath the ragged hem peeked dusty black boots, the largest pair Madeleine had ever seen on anyone, let alone a woman.

Madeleine chided herself for staring and quickly fetched a steaming mug of tea. She cut a thick slice of fresh-baked bread and slathered it with butter, then set the plate in front of the old woman.

“Is there anything else ye’d like?” she asked. She nodded toward the black kettle hanging above the hearth. “My cook, Glenis, always has a good pot of stew at the ready.”

“Aye, ‘twould be lovely,” the woman said between slurps of tea, without lifting her head.

Madeleine brought a brimming bowl to the table along with more bread. She refilled the woman’s mug, not surprised to see her hungrily devour the stew, soaking up every last drop with the bread crusts. Madeleine was beginning to believe this woman was indeed a fugitive. It was clear she hadn’t eaten a good meal in days.

After three bowls of stew, a pot of tea, and nearly a loaf of bread, the woman’s ravenous appetite was sated. She pushed back from the table and raised her head ever so slightly.

“Sit with me, lass, for a wee bit,” she croaked in a husky tone that was more a command than a request.

Madeleine sat down across the table, eyeing the old woman’s broad features in the candlelight. A bulbous nose, massive jowls, a fat double chin. She had the strangest feeling she had seen her somewhere before.

“Ye recognize me, dinna ye, Maddie Fraser?”

Madeleine gasped at the decidedly male voice, her eyes widening in surprise. “God’s wounds, could it be?”

Low, rumbling laughter erupted from her visitor at her astonished statement, a distinctive chuckle Madeleine had not heard in more than a year. Not since the red grouse hunt early last summer. Her father had hosted the event for his tacksmen and his guest of honor, Lord Lovat, the chief of Clan Fraser.

She leaned forward in her chair, staring incredulously at the grinning old man. It was Simon Fraser himself, a hunted fugitive since Culloden, disguised as a woman. And the place was swarming with redcoats!

What could Lord Lovat be thinking? Didn’t he realize his danger? Hadn’t he seen the guards posted along the drive? Hadn’t he seen the soldiers through the windows, bunked in the dancing room and the guest rooms? She tried to speak, but her throat was constricted so tightly no words came.

“Calm yerself, lassie,” Simon Fraser said softly, sobering at her obvious distress. “I’ve seen the redcoats, if that’s what ye’re wondering. And they dinna see me. If they had, they wouldna care two whits about an old woman calling at the house. I’m not worried, nor should ye be. Believe me, there’s fewer redcoats in Mhor Manor than out on the roads tonight scouring the mountains. ‘Tis safer by far.”

When she continued to gape at him, he sighed and patted her hand. “‘Tis why I’m here, Maddie. I long for nothing more than a good night’s rest in a warm bed. Ye’ve already seen to the fine meal. My old bones grow weary from this chase. ‘Tis mad I suppose, but the lights in yer house looked so inviting from Beinn Bhuidhe, despite yer English guests. I couldna help m’self.”

“Ye’ve been hiding on Beinn Bhuidhe?” Madeleine asked, finding her voice at last.

“Aye, for a week now. I was in Badenoch for quite a while, staying here and there, and before that Glen Cannich to the north…” His voice trailed off, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion. “Och, Maddie, ‘tis a long story, and I’ve no heart for it tonight. ‘Tis my plan to set out for the west Highlands before dawn. Loch Morar. I’ve friends there who’ll help me. ‘Tis my hope to find a ship to France.”

“France?”

“Aye. ‘Tis the safest plan. My lands are lost to me, my castle burned to the ground. I canna hide there. And my kinsmen risk much to shelter me, even disguised as I am.” He forced a weak smile. “I know ‘tis a dangerous thing to ask ye, Maddie, but if I could stay here only one night, I’ll be off before the sun rises in the morn—”

“Of course ye must stay!” Madeleine whispered vehemently. “Dinna think to ask me again, m’lord. I’d be insulted if ye did. The chief of Clan Fraser is always welcome in my home, redcoats or no. I’m honored ye chose to entrust me with yer care.”

“Ye’re a brave lass, Maddie, and I thank ye. Ye do the memory of yer father proud, God rest him.”

Madeleine felt a sudden lump in her throat, but she forced herself to think of the task at hand. She rose and swiftly cleared the table. The sooner Lord Lovat was settled somewhere in the house, away from prying eyes, the better. But where?

He couldn’t sleep in Glenis’s room, she decided, dumping the dishes into the washpan. It wasn’t safe enough. There was no lock on the door, and Garrett and his soldiers were forever passing through the kitchen, sometimes even waking Glenis to ask for this or that. It would not do if they found Lord Lovat instead, despite his disguise.

Nor could he sleep upstairs, she thought, walking back to the table. If Garrett heard any noise coming from the two empty guest rooms across the hall from his own chamber, he would surely become suspicious. Lord Lovat’s masquerade was well played, but it might not hold up under close scrutiny or a barrage of questions. No, she would have to think of something else.

She was struck by an idea, farfetched, yet she sensed it might work. Perhaps Lord Lovat could sleep upstairs in her room. No one would bother him there, especially if the door was bolted. Garrett believed she had already gone to bed for the night. Meanwhile, she could hide quietly in one of the guest rooms and wait for the dawn…

She was so lost in her thoughts that she jumped when Glenis walked abruptly into the kitchen, while Simon gasped at the footsteps behind him. He ducked his head so the bonnet hid his face, and he clutched his shawl tightly.

Madeleine rushed over to her stunned servant’s side, her finger to her lips, her eyes flashing caution. “‘Tis all right, m’lord,” she said reassuringly over her shoulder. “‘Tis only Glenis.”

“M’lord?” Glenis said, her dark eyes widening at the stout female figure hunched in the chair. She glanced questioningly at Madeleine. “M’lord?”

“Aye. Ye mustna breathe a word of this to anyone, Glenis. ‘Tis Simon Fraser, our Lord Lovat.”

At Madeleine’s words, Simon twisted around and gave Glenis a wink. “‘Tis good to see ye again, Glenis darlin’.”

“God protect us!” Glenis blurted, blanching white as a sheet. She rolled her eyes heavenward, looking as if she might faint. Madeleine grabbed her arm and gave her a good shake.

“Shhh, Glenis, keep yer wits about ye,” she demanded. “We dinna have time for any hysterics. I need yer help. We’ve got to get Lord Lovat upstairs and into my room without anyone seeing him. He’ll be staying at Mhor Manor tonight.”

“Yer room?” Glenis asked, totally confused.

“Aye. I’ll explain later. Listen to me, Glenis. Go into the drawing room and break something. Anything. That should lure the guard away from his post. We’ll need only an instant to sneak up the stairs. Now go!”

With a last wide-eyed glance at Simon, Glenis bobbed her head and fled the kitchen as fast as her stiff legs would carry her. A few moments later there was a crash of breaking china.

Madeleine wasted no time. She looped her arm through Simon’s, and together they hurried into the main hallway. The guard was on his knees in the drawing room, his back to them while he helped Glenis retrieve shards of a shattered plate.

Madeleine assisted Simon up the stairs, hoping Garrett had not heard the clamor. She had a story brewing in her mind just in case. Her great-aunt Morag had come for supper and was suddenly taken ill…

Fortunately it appeared she wouldn’t have to use her story. The hallway was dark and silent, no light shone from beneath Garrett’s door. Madeleine quietly led the way with Simon close behind her until they reached her room. She fairly pushed him inside and bid him a hasty good night.

“I’ll wake ye in the morning, m’lord, before dawn,” she whispered. “Bolt the door, mind ye, and dinna open it ‘til ye hear four short knocks. We’ll have to trick the guard again, but ‘tis no matter. These redcoats are a dim-witted lot. Ye’ll be safely on yer way before dawn.”

“I thank ye, Maddie,” he said. “Sleep well.”

The door closed with a small click, and she heard the bolt slide into place. Satisfied, she turned and made her way back down the hallway.

Sleep well, she thought wryly. She wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight. While the chieftain of Clan Fraser was under her roof, she was charged with his protection.

Suddenly she stopped in her tracks. The raid! She sighed resignedly. Och, there was nothing to be done about it now.

It seemed she had raided her last supply train. The foodstuffs they had gathered in the cave would have to be enough. There was no time to carry out any more raids after tonight, other than what she had planned for the following evening. But then she would be alone.

At least her kinsmen would know to abandon the raid when she failed to meet them at the yew tree, she thought as she continued down the hallway. She had no doubt they would understand. It was her duty to guard Lord Lovat with her life, as would any Fraser. She would do whatever was necessary to ensure his safety.

Madeleine’s hand was on the door latch to the guest chamber when a loud thud sounded from her room, followed by a blustered oath. She grimaced, scurrying back to her door.

“Lord Lovat, are ye all right?” she called softly.

“Aye, lass. Just a bit clumsy is all. Dinna worry.”

Relieved, she leaned her head against the doorjamb. It was going to be a long night. She pushed away from the door, stiffening as a hand suddenly touched her shoulder, and her heart sank into her shoes.