Chapter 18

“No, Maddie! Ye winna ride by yerself!” Angus exclaimed heatedly, stamping about his large cottage. He halted abruptly and slammed his fist into the rough-hewn cupboard, rattling every cup and dish on the open shelves. “Damn those redcoats!” he shouted, striking it again. “Damn Hawley, Cumberland, Captain Garrett Marshall, the whole blasted lot of them to hell’s fire!”

Ewen reached out just in time to save the whiskey decanter, which was rocking precariously. “Will ye go easy, Angus?” he said with a heavy sigh. “Ye’ve already smashed one chair. We feel the same as ye do. Ye dinna have to wreck yer house to prove yer anger.”

Angus stared at his longtime friend with clenched fists, his heavy brows knit together, his feet planted in a defiant stance. His normally ruddy face was beet-red.

“Do ye truly feel the same as I, Ewen? Do ye believe Maddie shouldna ride alone?” he asked suspiciously. “Ye’ve the most to gain by staying home. Ye’ve yer family still under yer roof, yer fine son, Duncan, yer bonnie wife. I’ve only m’self now, my two sons dead at Culloden, my wife gone these past five years, my daughter moved to Duhallow with her husband. I’ve nothing to lose save my pride if I dinna ride with Maddie tonight!”

“Ye dare to question my loyalty to Maddie?” Ewen said darkly, rising from his chair. Though he was shorter by a head, his thick build more than made up for his slighter stature. He faced his kinsman squarely. “Aye, my family is dear to me, but not so dear I’d let Hugh Fraser’s daughter take the full blame and punishment for what we’ve done together.”

Duncan jumped up beside his father, his deep blue eyes flaring. “Are ye saying I’d cower at home, Angus, whilst Maddie faced the English?” He spat upon the floor. “I’d rather die by the hangman’s rope than let it be said in Strathherrick that Duncan Burke chose to hide from the redcoats rather than fight them.”

Madeleine leaped to her feet, her knuckles white from gripping the table. “I’ll not have ye arguing and fighting amongst yerselves! Stop it, I tell ye. Stop it!” She drew a deep breath, eyeing one sullenly silent man after the other. The tension was so thick it hung over the room like a smothering fog. “Sit down, all of ye.”

“Aye, ‘tis not the time to be quarreling,” Ewen agreed gruffly, taking his seat. Duncan soon followed, but Angus held his ground.

“I’ll not sit ‘til this matter is decided,” he insisted. He leaned against a whitewashed wall and crossed his arms over his burly chest.

“Very well, then, Angus. Stand if ye wish,” Madeleine said. She sat and looked around the gloomy party. “I appreciate yer loyalty and yer willingness to ride with me tonight, no matter the consequences,” she said evenly. “But I canna allow ye to do that. ‘Twould be riding to yer deaths, and ye well know it. I’ll not have that upon my conscience. ‘Tis bad enough I’ve involved ye this deeply.”

“Ye canna be sure ‘twould lead to our deaths, Maddie,” Angus retorted. “How do ye know they winna simply throw us in prison? All we’ve done is steal a bit of food for our starving kinsmen. Surely the court would show some pity…perhaps sentence us to a few years’ time in an Edinburgh gaol—”

“Have ye forgotten that we’ve shot English soldiers, Angus?” Madeleine cut in sharply. “The court winna look kindly upon that indiscretion, ye can be sure.” She winced, recalling what Garrett had said about severed heads and spikes, but she could not bring herself to mention it. “Captain Marshall has given me reason to believe General Hawley wishes to make an example of Black Jack,” she said instead.

“Black Jack indeed,” Angus sputtered under his breath. He pushed away from the wall and began to pace the dirt-packed floor. “Ye seem to have set great store by what Captain Marshall has told ye, Maddie. What if he lies? Perhaps he has concocted this threat about Hawley to trick ye into giving him what he wants, easy and without a fight.” He walked to the table suddenly and leaned over it, looking at her almost accusingly. “I canna believe ye would so readily trust a redcoat, lass.”

Madeleine stared back at him, anger gripping her. “Aye, I trust him, Angus,” she said tersely. “In this instance I trust him completely.” Her words struck a deep chord within her, and she fleetingly remembered her vow to Flora that she would never trust an Englishman. How dangerously far she had come in such a short time!

“And if he lies?” Angus queried harshly, hardly convinced.

“I’ve considered that possibility, and I’ve decided I winna take such a chance with our people’s lives. Enough said on the matter, Angus. I’ve made up my mind.” She stood up, her voice adopting a forceful tone she had heard her father use time and again. “I will ride alone tonight. If I’m wrong, then ‘twill only be my neck that is forfeit. I demand ye swear to me ye winna interfere.”

There was a heavy, brooding silence in the room as the men glanced at one another, then back at her.

“Swear to me ye winna interfere,” she repeated shrilly. “Captain Marshall believes I know nothing of yer whereabouts or even who ye are. And when they catch me, I’ll carry yer names to my grave, I swear it! Ye’re safe, dammit. Safe! Dinna ye hear me? Now swear it!”

Angus was the first to slowly shake his head, followed by his two kinsmen. “‘Tis no disrespect to ye, Maddie, but I canna swear such an oath,” he said quietly. His grim expression mirrored his words. “Ye’ve not considered one important thing.”

“And what might that be?” she snapped, then immediately regretted her shrewish tone. Her kinsmen cared deeply about her, that much was plain.

“Do ye truly think Captain Marshall will believe ye’re Black Jack, especially when he finds ye alone?” he said, painting the scene for her. “To him, ye’re the mistress of Farraline. He’ll think ye’ve only disguised yerself as Black Jack to protect the brigand and yer people. He’ll laugh in yer face, Maddie, and think ye’re playing him for a fool.”

Madeleine stared blankly at Angus, his somber words hitting her with full force. She sank slowly into her chair.

‘Twas possible, she thought dazedly. She had never considered Garrett would not believe she was Black Jack.

Once she was captured, she had planned to supply him with information about her raids, especially when she and her kinsmen looted his camp. But would he believe her? Maybe he would claim she had heard the stories from the brigands themselves. Either that or he would say it was gossip and hearsay, secondhand knowledge she had collected from villagers who knew the identity of the brigand or his men.

Madeleine felt like laughing and crying from the sheer absurdity of it all. She was Black Jack, yet Garrett thought the brigand was a man. He had no reason to believe otherwise.

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 few 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 brigands 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 brigand 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 brigands, 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 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!