Chapter 16

“Madeleine, what’s going on?” Garrett asked, his deep voice tinged with concern. “I was just coming up the stairs, and I heard someone fall. Are you all right?”

Madeleine whirled around, gaping at the familiar silhouette looming in the darkness. A quick lie jumped to her lips.

“‘Twas nothing, Garrett. I merely tripped on a pair of brogues when I was leaving my room. ‘Twas stupid of me, dropping them in the middle of the floor like that.” She bent down and rubbed her knee convincingly, moaning a little. “Och, it hurts a bit, but I think I’ll be fine.”

“Come with me,” he said firmly. “We should take a look at it in the light.”

Before she could protest, he swept her into his arms and strode down the hallway to his room. He leaned into the door, shoving it open, and made straight for the bed, where he set her down gently.

Madeleine listened as he fumbled about the bedside table for the flint and steel. At least he hadn’t tried to carry her back into her own room, she thought gratefully. She heard him strike the flint, and she blinked as warm candlelight flooded the large room.

Garrett knelt in front of her, his eyes meeting her startled gaze. “Could you lift your skirt for me, Madeleine?”

She nodded, her heart thumping fiercely against her breast. As she raised her skirt slowly, a fiery blush burned her cheeks. She draped the hem over the top of her legs and held it down modestly.

“Which knee is it?”

Madeleine gasped at the light pressure of his hand on her ankle. “The—the left one,” she stammered.

“Do you mind if I pull down your stocking?” he asked gently.

She shook her head, mesmerized by the sight of his hands slipping beneath the hem of her gown. She felt a sharp intake of breath as his fingers barely grazed her thigh. He deftly slid the thin white stocking down her leg.

“Here?” he inquired, tenderly touching her knee. His smooth fingertips pushed and explored, around and around, tickling her, though she tried hard not to show it. She feigned a wince of pain.

“Oooh, ‘tis there,” she said, pursing her lips. She lifted her head to find him studying her, his attention no longer on her knee. His penetrating gaze seemed to devour her, though his expression was inscrutable.

She shivered, unable to tear her eyes away. He was looking at her just as he had the other night!

The taunting memory of his lips at her breast leaped into her mind. She flushed hotly and forced it away, shifting on the bed. Her movement broke the spell, for Garrett looked down, caressing her left knee with his thumbs.

“There’s no swelling,” he said quietly. “I think it is only bruised.” He began to pull up her stocking.

“I can manage, thank ye,” Madeleine said, embarrassed. As he rose to his feet, she drew the stocking over her knee and quickly shook out her skirt.

“From the sound of your fall, I’m surprised it was no worse,” he said.

“Aye, ‘tis a lucky thing,” she agreed. She stood up slowly, testing her weight on her “injured” knee. “‘Tisn’t hurting so badly now. Thank ye for yer trouble, Garrett.” She affected a slight limp as she padded toward the door in her stockinged feet.

“I’ll see you to your room, Madeleine,” he offered, taking the pewter candlestick from the bedside table.

Madeleine stopped abruptly, her breath catching in her throat. “No, that winna be necessary,” she objected lightly. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I can see my way well enough.”

“I insist,” Garrett said, his features set with determination. He was at her side in two strides and wound his arm through hers. “I’ll not have you injuring yourself further by tripping about in the dark.”

Madeleine’s mind raced frantically. If Garrett accompanied her to her room only to discover the door bolted, he would surely demand to know why. She could not risk Lord Lovat being found out. What could she possibly say to dissuade him? She walked slowly, stalling for time.

“I thought you’d gone to bed an hour ago, Madeleine,” Garrett said, matching her pace. “I was surprised to see you were still up.”

His soft-spoken statement jolted her, reminding her of why she had left her room in the first place. It gave her a chilling idea.

Perhaps if she talked to him now about Black Jack, it would divert his attention, she thought wildly. There was no longer any reason to wait until morning.

Once Garrett knew she was going to help him find his brigand tomorrow evening, she hoped he would forget all about escorting her and rush out to inform Sergeant Fletcher. When he returned, she would be gone to bed, or so he would think. Aye, that’s what she would do. She had no other choice.

A flicker of fear coursed through her body, and she found she was trembling. She had the oddest sensation she was about to leap from the edge of a precipice into a pitch-black chasm. Once she offered her help, there would be no turning back, no second thoughts, and no hope of rescue.

Courage, lass, she bolstered herself. ‘Tis for the well being of yer people. Yers is only one life to their many. ‘Tis as good a time as any to seal yer fate.

Madeleine turned to face him, hoping he would not sense the depth of her fear. “I did go to bed, but I couldna sleep. I’ve been thinking about what ye said about Black Jack, and about General Hawley. I was coming to find ye, Garrett. I thought we might talk.”

Garrett was so stunned he wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly. After she heatedly refused his last plea, he had resigned himself to the conclusion that she would never help him. Now here she was, in his room, saying she wanted to talk about Black Jack!

Don’t get your hopes up, man, he thought, forcing himself to remain calm. Hear her out first. She might yet disappoint you.

He felt her tremble and sensed she was nervous. “Sit down, Madeleine,” he said gently, leading her to an armchair. He set the candlestick on the small, three-legged table behind her. “Would you like a glass of wine before we talk?”

“Aye.”

He filled two goblets from the cask set atop the desk, then returned quickly to her side. He offered her one, noting how her hand was shaking as she lifted the goblet to her mouth and drank deeply. He took a sip, barely tasting the wine. His eyes never left her face.

Her large blue eyes were luminous in the candlelight and tinged with a hint of resignation that he had never seen there before. She looked so vulnerable, so unlike the defiant young woman he knew. He pulled up another armchair and sat down beside her.

“What about Black Jack, Madeleine?” he asked, hoping he was not rushing her. She took another long draft of wine before she answered, then held the goblet in her lap.

“I’ve decided to help ye find him,” she said evenly, staring into his eyes. “I believe ye’ve told me the truth about Hawley. Tomorrow night, I’ll deliver Black Jack into yer hands, and then ye and yer kind can leave Strathherrick in peace.”

Garrett sharply drew in his breath. So his instincts had been right after all! Madeleine not only knew of Black Jack, she was going to lead him to the brigand. This was more than he had ever hoped.

“But why have you waited until now to tell me this?” he asked with a twinge of irritation, thinking of the raids he could have prevented. “You’ve told me twice you knew nothing.”

“Ye’ve asked me to do a hard thing, Garrett,” she responded, her voice almost a whisper. “I needed time to think, to weigh…” she shrugged slightly, falling silent.

Yes, he did understand, he thought. It could not have been an easy decision. He quickly changed the subject.

“What of the five men who ride with Black Jack?” he asked, realizing she had made no mention of them.

She shook her head stubbornly. “I canna help ye there. I dinna know who they are, nor where to find them. “

Garrett leaned forward in his chair, his expression grim. “I must have them all, Madeleine.”

She looked at him sharply. “And ye must trust me in this, Garrett, as ye asked for my trust two weeks past. Once Black Jack is captured, ye winna have to worry about the others. They winna ride again, not without their leader.”

Garrett sat back in his chair, pondering her statement. He was tempted to ask her how she could say this with such certainty, but he decided against it.

First and foremost, he wanted Black Jack. If she claimed the others would cease their raiding, it must be true. She knew what was at stake if they did not.

He nodded. “Very well. I only hope I can convince General Hawley. He’s no doubt set his mind on hanging the whole thieving lot, then posting their heads on spikes as a warning to other Highlanders who might choose such a path. Black Jack’s head will have to satisfy him.”

He saw her flinch, her face growing deathly pale. He immediately regretted his callous and gruesome statement. “I’m sorry, Madeleine—”

“Ye’re sorry?” she blurted suddenly. Her laugh was harsh; her eyes flashed brightly. “I’ll have ye know this, Captain Garrett Marshall. If not for Black Jack, there would be far more fresh graves dotting Strathherrick, full of women and children who starved because yer fine countrymen saw fit to steal the bread from their tables. Fortunately we’ve food enough now to last the winter and seed to plant come spring. I’m giving ye Black Jack only to save my people more suffering and pain. The kind yer General Hawley would inflict upon them! The kind they’d not survive even with food in their bellies. Dinna forget it!’’

She tossed down the last of her wine and set the goblet shakily on the table. “I’ve had my say. We can discuss the details in the morning. I dinna want to keep ye from sharing yer wondrous news with Sergeant Fletcher. I’m sure ye’ve much to gloat over together, plans to make. Good night to ye, Garrett.”

She stood up abruptly, but he caught her hand in a steely grip.

“Do you really think I would gloat, Madeleine?” he said softly. “Sergeant Fletcher will hear of this soon enough.”

He set aside his goblet and rose from his chair, so close to her the brass buttons on his coat snagged her bodice. She jumped back as if stung, but he held her fast.

“Don’t you think I understand something of what your decision has cost you, Madeleine?” he demanded, his eyes searing into her own. “Don’t you think I sense your pain? To betray a kinsman, even for the sake of so many—”

“Ye’ll never know the half of how I feel!” Madeleine exclaimed, her voice throbbing with anguish.

She twisted free of his grasp and hurried to the open door, scarcely remembering to limp. She heard his footsteps behind her and she knew she would not escape him. He seemed determined to follow her.

She didn’t stop to think. In one swift movement she slammed the door, bolted it, and whirled around to face him.

Her eyes locked with his as he drew closer. She did not know in that moment if she was staying to protect Lord Lovat, or surrendering at last to the inexorable yearning that had taken over her senses, her body, and her will from the first time Garrett had held her in his arms.

All she knew was that soon she would face her death, by the hangman’s noose if she was brought to trial, or even more unnerving, by a brace of loaded pistols tomorrow night. She could almost feel the searing bullets ripping into her flesh, and she closed her eyes tightly, crossing her arms protectively over her breasts.

It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair! her mind screamed. Hopeless tears squeezed beneath her eyelids. She had barely lived, had barely loved…

“Madeleine, what’s wrong?” Garrett’s voice called to her, his arms pulling her toward him. They enveloped her, and she sensed a seductive comfort like nothing she had ever known. She pressed against his broad chest, as if she could melt against him and be safe.

She opened her tear-filled eyes. His face was so close to hers, and his breath was warm against her skin.

“Why are you crying, Maddie?” he asked softly and gently. His finger traced a tear down her cheek. “Tell me, sweeting, tell me.”

She heard the words escape her lips with a voice she did not know. It was tremulous and frightened…so horribly frightened.

“Is it true what ye said at the falls, Garrett? That ye dinna want anything to happen to me?”

“Yes, it’s true,” he said, hugging her fiercely. “I’ve been so worried. But now you’ll be safe. You’ve given me what I need to protect you, Madeleine. You needn’t be afraid. Nothing will ever happen to you. Not if I can prevent it.”

She pulled away slightly and looked into his eyes, her slim hands reaching up to cradle his face. “Ye care, then, Garrett Marshall? Truly care about me?”

He nodded wordlessly and held her tighter, so tight she thought he might be able to drive the terrible fear from her heart. She wanted so much to forget the horror that was to come, if only for a little while.

“Love me, Garrett,” she pleaded. “Show me ye care, as a man cares for a woman. I must know…must know…”

“Maddie, do you realize what you’re saying?” Garrett asked huskily, cupping her chin. He searched her face and her eyes. “You’ve fought me all along. I thought I would always be something you hate and despise. And now you ask me to—”

Her kiss silenced him as she stood on her toes and found his lips. It was a kiss so desperate and so passionate that he groaned against her mouth and crushed her to his chest. She felt him lift her in his arms, felt the rugged strength of his body through his long strides, then fell back against softness and knew she was lying with him on the bed.

Garrett stretched his hard length atop her and pinned her arms above her head with one strong hand. His dark blond hair, loosed from its band, fell to frame his face like a sheaf of gold in the candlelight. His gray-green eyes were alight with a ravenous hunger held too long in check.

“I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you, Maddie Fraser,” he whispered, his breath on her cheeks, her lips, like a sweet caress. “Wanted you so badly I could not sleep from the ache of it. I wanted you so badly that when I finally slept I dreamed of nothing but you.”

He seized her lips, kissing her until she was breathless. “Tell me what you want, Maddie,” he demanded brokenly, his panting breaths merging with her own. “If you truly want me, you must say it. I must be sure.”

“I want ye, Garrett Marshall,” she whispered urgently. “Ye must show me what it is to love—and be loved.”

Her words pierced the turbulent cloud of desire raging within Garrett’s mind. Stark realization gripped him, together with a flood of bittersweet exultation. He released her wrists and brought himself up on his elbows, his fingers buried in her tangled chestnut curls.

“Am I the first?” he asked gently, yet with a hint of desperation. He sensed her answer, yet he needed to hear it from her own lips. He could not fathom why it mattered so much to him, but it did. If there was no lover, perhaps he could dare to hope her heart was yet free.

“Aye,” Madeleine breathed. “Ye’re the first.” She reached up and trailed her finger down his clean-shaven cheek to his lips. She traced the sensuous curves of his mouth, her eyes brimming with wonder and passion. She smiled ever so faintly. “And I’ve never known a kiss such as yers, Garrett.”

A ragged sigh escaped his throat, wrenched from the depths of his soul. He captured her in his arms and kissed her deeply, knowing that he had been given a most precious gift. A gift to be savored, treasured, and awakened slowly. He reluctantly pulled away from her lips and rose from the bed.

“Dinna leave me,” Madeleine moaned, her eyelids fluttering open. Her whole body ached, her reeling senses acutely aware of his absence. She felt cold, missing the warmth of his weight upon her, until a flush of heat raked her from head to foot.

What a glorious sight to behold! Entranced, she leaned up on her elbow, watching in bold fascination as Garrett undressed swiftly before her.

A thrill of anticipation shot through her as his powerful body was bared before her, revealing the masculine perfection she remembered so vividly from the loch. Her eyes raced over him, drinking in his male beauty, the hard ridges and angles, the knotted muscles, as his every lithe movement was illuminated in candlelight and shadow.

“Come to me, beautiful Maddie Fraser,” he bade her suddenly, his voice a husky whisper that rocked her to the very depths of her being.

Shivering uncontrollably, she bounded from the bed and flew into his arms. His warmth enveloped her, his bronzed skin both rough and smooth beneath her frantic touch. Their lips fused and parted as his tongue stroked hers, searching, delving into the velvet recesses of her mouth even as his hands expertly divested her of her gown and petticoat.

“Fairest Madeleine, you are my Rosalind,” he murmured as he turned her around, one arm hugging her slender waist. “I want to see every beauty you possess, to know it, taste it, touch it.” He trailed fiery kisses across her shoulder while he deftly pulled her chemise over her head, then buried his face in her hair, inhaling its fragrance.

She let out a small gasp of pleasure as his hands disappeared beneath her drawers and slowly crept up her body, grazing her hips, his fingers caressing her belly and the narrow curve of her waist. Then he cupped her full breasts and squeezed, ever so gently.

Madeleine jumped in breathless surprise, moaning when his thumbnails grazed her taut nipples. He teased them until she was light-headed and giddy, certain that her knees would buckle beneath her. She felt a hardness straining against her backside; his arousal was most evident. She blushed furiously, thrilled by her wanton imaginings.

Suddenly Garrett knelt behind her, his hot breath fanning along her spine. He slowly slid her linen drawers over her hips and down her legs, then followed with her stockings. He lifted first one slender foot and then the other, kissing and caressing each in turn, his breath tickling her toes.

“You won’t be needing this, I trust,” he whispered, running his hands lightly between her thighs as he untied the strap holding her dirk and tossed both weapon and sheath onto a chair.

She gasped sharply as he nipped her bare bottom, then he twirled her around, his palms plying and stroking the silky length of her. She threw her head back and reveled in his sweeping touch, feeling as if he would caress every inch of her body. His voice came to her as if in a dream, his whispered words from a text she knew nearly by heart, Romeo and Juliet .

“ ‘O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.’ ”

Tremors of breathless excitement rippled through her limbs as Garrett kissed her navel and his fingers strayed ever so briefly into the soft chestnut mound at the juncture of her thighs, then he rose to his feet and caught her in his powerful embrace.

“Sweet Maddie,” he murmured thickly, smothering her slim throat, her shoulders, and her breasts with kisses. He sought her lips, and she was lost in oblivion, scarcely aware he had lifted her onto the bed.

She was drunk with his touch and powerless against the dizzying sensations wracking her body. Her flesh burned from his countless kisses. Her blood sizzled and surged through her veins, filling her completely with liquid heat.

So this was the magic! This was the mystery between men and women, this was the caring, the wanting, the loving that she so urgently sought, so desperately needed.

Madeleine opened her eyes dazedly to find Garrett bent over her, his muscled thighs straddling her hips. He lingered at her aching breasts, savoring first one then the other, his tongue torturing the swollen tips, his fingertips lightly stroking the pink aureoles until she thought she might scream. Then he was above her, his eyes blazing into hers with potent heat, inflamed from wanting her.

“ ‘O blessed, blessed night!’ ”he murmured huskily, sweeping a chestnut tendril from her face. “ ‘I am afeard, being in night, all this is but a dream…’ ”

Madeleine reached up and drew him down to her, his verse the sweetest seduction. She kissed him deeply, with all the passion she possessed, then whispered against his lips, “Aye, ‘tis the night, Garrett, but ‘tis not a dream. Love me, please love me.”

She watched, spellbound, as he lowered his head once more, his mouth blazing a molten path across her fluttering belly to her navel. A madness seized her as his tongue speared into the sensitive hollow at the same moment his fingers found the moist silken cleft between her thighs.

She cried out and arched wildly against his hand, her frenzy mounting when his darting tongue began to stroke and tease where his fingers had been only moments before. Her hips tilted instinctively as she opened herself for him, her jagged breaths a rising cadence to the sweet agony he inflicted.

“Garrett…no…oh, please,” she whimpered, quivering and shaking. A swell of intense pleasure was rising deep within her, with streaks of rippling sensation radiating from the secret point of his relentless onslaught. She ran her fingers through his hair, moaning and imploring until she felt him rise abruptly and cover her writhing body with his powerful weight.

“Maddie, my love, it will hurt only for an instant, I promise,” she heard him whisper, his lips capturing hers.

She sensed a hard, fervent nudging and innately arched against it, every fiber of her being striving for the unknown fulfillment she craved so dearly. She gasped as his pulsating strength plunged into her softness, a lightning stab of pain overwhelming her pleasure.

“Shhh, sweeting,” Garrett murmured hoarsely against her mouth, shunting his hips gently to and fro. “It will soon pass. Shhh…”

Calmed by his soothing whispers and tender caresses, she marveled at how swiftly the pain receded and disappeared. Her body seemed to have a will of its own as she matched his movements, slowly at first, then more urgently, her senses rocked once more by intoxicating waves of pleasure.

She trembled anew, a fiery heat engulfing her. Unwittingly she pulled Garrett to her, winding her arms about his muscled back, her slim legs tightly encircling his waist as if she would never let him go. She met his heightened thrusts with savage abandon, demanding everything he had to give and more.

Her panting breaths were one with his as they clung to each other, their bodies buffeted and tossed by a storm of passion. She heard him groan and hoarsely cry out her name as he exploded deep within her, a great, shattering release that catapulted her to unbelievable heights of shimmering revelation.

“Hold me, Garrett! Hold me!” she cried, certain she would die from the sheer wonder and infinite splendor of it. She drove hard against him, tears of rapture streaking her face as wave after cascading wave of tumultuous ecstasy finally revealed the mystery of love.

A shuddering sigh escaped Madeleine’s lips, and she suddenly went limp beneath Garrett’s weight, her limbs slipping from his body. Stunned, he realized she had fainted. He rolled over onto his side, bringing her with him, and cradled her in his arms. He kissed her tenderly, tasting the salt of her tears.

Long moments passed. Gradually Garrett’s labored breathing eased, returning to some semblance of normal.

He could not help smiling. He was sure he had never before loved anyone so completely. He knew he had never felt such an overwhelming sense of contentment. It settled over him like a soothing cloud, merging with his utter exhaustion.

He yawned, and his gaze drifted to the candle across the room. It sputtered and hissed, the yellow flame flaring in the cool night breeze wafting from the cracked window.

Better to let it burn itself out, he decided, hugging Madeleine closer to his chest. He did not want to wake her.

He grasped the tartan bedspread and pulled it over them. The thick wool would keep them snug during the night. He rested his chin gently atop her head, stroking her silken hair and reveling in the warmth of her lithe body. Her breathing had slowed, and its soft, measured rhythm was a sign that all was well.

“Mistress Madeleine Fraser,” he murmured quietly, closing his eyes. “Lady Madeleine Marshall, mistress of Farraline, lady wife of Rosemoor.”

Garrett smiled faintly. He was not surprised by the direction his thoughts had taken, or by the strength of his emotion. He was in love. He had never been more certain of anything in his life.

He was in love with a fiery Scotswoman who took his breath away every time he gazed into her flashing eyes. A beautiful, stubborn, and passionate Highlander. Some might insist she was his enemy, yet he knew he could not live without her.

Never until this night had he dared to hope such a love was possible. Now it seemed she truly cared, and in time she might consent to become his wife. Yes, he could hope. He could dream.

Garrett hugged her protectively, sleep stealing over him. “We’ve a new beginning, you and I,” he whispered softly against her hair. “After tomorrow, the worst will be over. The danger will be past. We’ll start afresh, Maddie Fraser.”