A Hint of Rapture (27 page)

Once again she had to banish the vibrant memories which
leaped to her mind. She lifted her skirt and pulled on her stockings, wondering
how she was going to explain to Lord Lovat her failure to wake him at the
appointed hour.

How was she going to explain it to Glenis, for that
matter? Her servant no doubt wondered where she had disappeared to for the
entire evening.

Madeleine strapped on her dirk and ran over to the
large wall mirror. She quickly surveyed her reflection.

It was strange that she appeared no different after
last night, she mused. She certainly felt different. The only disparity she
could see was the expression in her eyes. It was one of calm acceptance, almost
serenity, so unlike the simmering fear she had seen there for the past two
weeks. Perhaps after voicing her fateful decision, she was finally ready to
face whatever was to come.

Enough! Ye're wasting time, she chided herself. She
raked her fingers through her hair, but the knots and tangles were impossible.
She would have to brush it out later. With a final tug at her bodice, she
hurried from the room.

She nearly fainted when she saw her chamber door was
half open, golden sunlight splashing across the carpeted hallway. She dashed
the short distance and burst into the room. It was empty but for Glenis, who
was calmly making the bed.

"Good morning to ye, Maddie," Glenis said
nonchalantly, glancing over her narrow shoulder. "Ye might shut the door,
lass, before ye say a word. Ye look like ye've seen a ghost. 'Tis only yer
Glenis."

Madeleine could not seem to move her limbs. She only
stared, her feet rooted to the floor. "Glenis, where's—"

"Dinna say it, lass. Wait," Glenis shushed
her, scurrying over and closing the door herself. She walked to Madeleine's
side and gave her a fierce hug. "All's well, Maddie, ye dinna have to
worry. Sit down on the bed."

Stunned, Madeleine obeyed her. She slumped on the
mattress, and Glenis sat down next to her. "What do ye mean, Glenis?"
she said. "Where's Lord Lovat?"

"Here. Read this," Glenis replied, reaching
into her pocket and drawing out a single sheet of paper. She pushed it into
Madeleine's limp hand. "I found it under the pillow. 'Twill explain
everything."

As Madeleine read the hastily scrawled letter aloud,
her voice a mere whisper, a surge of incredible relief washed over her.

My thanks for your kind hospitality, Maddie
darling. When you did not come to wake me, I was sure the excitement of my unexpected
arrival proved too much for you. I'll not blame you for that, and 'tis almost
better this way.

I've taken it upon myself to bid farewell by way
of your great-grandfather's tunnel. Aye, I've known about it for years. Your
father showed the tunnel to me when he was a lad, so proud of it he was. We
chieftains know of a great many such secrets. 'Tis how we live so long and so
well.

One final word to you, Maddie. You're a brave
lass and 'tis proud I am of what you've been about these past months. Aye, I
know of your cause. When I heard rumors of a fearless outlaw in Strathherrick,
I knew 'twas you.

You've your father's courage and loyalty to Clan
Fraser, God rest him forever, and your own caring heart. With your mother's
fine beauty, you're quite the lassie indeed. I only ask you to be wary around
these redcoats. Never before has such a hateful scourge set upon our beloved
Highlands. God be with you, Maddie.

Simon Fraser

Madeleine's hands dropped into her lap.
"Great-grandfather's tunnel!" she said incredulously.

"Aye, he must have gotten clean away, otherwise
we'd surely have heard the ruckus," Glenis stated matter-of-factly.
"I wonder how he managed to elude the guard downstairs, 'tis all."
She shrugged, her wrinkled face breaking into a grin. "Och, they call him
Simon the Fox with good reason," she said, chuckling.

Madeleine would have joined in her laughter if she
hadn't been so astonished. She ripped the letter into small pieces after a
final perusal and handed the bits to Glenis. "Will ye see that this is
burned in the kitchen hearth? We dinna want to risk it falling into the wrong
hands."

"Aye, lass," Glenis agreed, sobering.

Madeleine heaved a small sigh as she rose from the bed.
"It seems there's nothing more for me to do here. All's well, Glenis, just
as ye said."

"Is it, Maddie?"

She looked down at Glenis, noting the anxious lines
etched deeply into the old woman's face. "Aye, as far as our Lord Lovat is
concerned," she answered gravely.

"I wasna referrin' to Simon Fraser," Glenis
said softly. She met Madeleine's eyes, but there was no judgment reflected in
her perceptive gaze. "Was the captain gentle with ye, hinny?"

Startled, Madeleine felt a sudden rush of shame. She
thought to deny it, but decided it made no difference, not now. "How did
ye know?"

"I've raised ye since ye were a wee bairn, Maddie.
There's not much that escapes yer Glenis Simpson." She stood up stiffly
and cupped Madeleine's chin. "Ye havna given him more than yer maidenhead,
have ye? Yer heart, mayhap? I'd think 'twould only make it harder for ye,
caring for the man who'll see ye to prison."

"No! I dinna care for him! How could ye say such a
thing, Glenis?" Madeleine exclaimed defensively. "I only went to his
bed to protect Lord Lovat." She bit her tongue, knowing that was half a
lie, but she could not bear for Glenis to know the selfish truth.

"Have ye told him yet about Black Jack?"

"Aye, last night."

Glenis sharply drew in her breath but said nothing, her
dark eyes full of pain.

"He knows I will help him find the outlaw, that's
all," Madeleine continued carefully. "He doesna know 'tis me, not
yet. He'll only discover that tonight, out on the moor."

"But how—"

"Glenis, I dinna have the time to tell ye all the
details right now," she cut her off gently, clasping Glenis's worn hands.
"Later we'll talk. Garrett is expecting to find me in his room, expecting
to hear how I'm going to lead him to Black Jack. I must go." She kissed
her on the cheek, then abruptly turned and left the room.

Now ye must think only of what lies ahead, Madeleine
told herself firmly, choking back the hard lump in her throat. She squared her
slender shoulders as she walked determinedly down the hall.

First she had to explain to Garrett where he and his
soldiers would find Black Jack, then she had to visit her kinsmen in Farraline.
They had to know why they would not be riding with her tonight, why they would
never ride for her cause again. And if Garrett asked her where she was going,
she would simply tell him she had to take more of Glenis's herbal medicine to
the kinswoman who was in childbed.

She heard the clatter of china teacups on a tray and
knew Garrett was already back in his room. She felt strangely calm, considering
that she was about to sign her own death warrant.

Once Garrett knew where to find Black Jack, her fate
was all but sealed.

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 outlaw 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 outlaws 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 outlaw or his men.

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