A Hint of Rapture

by Miriam Minger

  " 'Tis no matter," she said distractedly. How was she ever going to get to Lord Lovat now? she wondered. Her gaze fell on her clothes, draped neatly over an armchair. Her dirk lay upon the brocade seat, its silver hilt gleaming brightly. She glanced from the chair to Garrett.

  He was leaning on the desk, his arms folded, staring at her as if he could see right through the velvet drapery. She felt a flush race from her scalp to her toes and she shifted self-consciously. She held the curtain more snugly across her breasts.

  "Garrett, if ye dinna mind, I'd like to get dressed," she said, attempting a firm tone. "I'll catch a chill standing here. Could ye kindly leave the room?"

  He looked nonplussed, almost hurt, and it seemed he might protest. Then he sighed. "If that is what you wish, he agreed, his reluctance evident in his voice. He strode to the door, where he turned and glanced back at her. "If you'd like, I'll bring you some breakfast. I haven't eaten yet myself. I was waiting for you. I was hoping we might talk and perhaps discuss those particulars you mentioned last night."

  She nodded quickly, stung by his words. Obviously he was already thinking about Black Jack. "Aye, 'twould be fine, Garrett," she said quietly, deciding it was just as well.

  Her reply seemed to brighten his spirits. He smiled again. "Good. I'll be back shortly."

  As he closed the door behind him, Madeleine rushed to the armchair and grabbed her clothes. She dressed quickly, her mind spinning.

  She hoped that while Garrett was in the kitchen, she'd have enough time to see to Lord Lovat. He must still be safe or the house would surely have been in an uproar. Garrett would certainly have made some mention of it to her if he had found an unexplained house-guest in their midst. His demeanor had suggested nothing out of the ordinary, other than the unsettling current of intimacy between them now.

  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.

  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 7ew 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 outlaws 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 outlaw there, rather than wait until he met his men for a raid."