* * *
Madeleine went off with her hostess to the linen room, where she dutifully helped with the sorting of the bed sheets. The task kept her occupied until shortly after noon and, Lady McBinnie having no more chores for her, she hurried away to the sickroom.
She found Grant looking much better. He was sitting up in bed, enjoying a plate of ham while a serving maid bustled about the room, clearing up after the night’s vigil. He greeted her cheerfully.
‘Have you come to keep me company? You are in good time, madam, for now Eilidh can attend to her work instead of dancing attendance upon me.’
He pushed the tray away and the maid came to take it, giggling and blushing as he smiled and thanked her.
Maddie made herself comfortable on the chair beside the bed and waited until they were alone before giving voice to her thoughts.
‘I am quite dismayed by how much work our being in the house is making for Lady McBinnie’s staff. After all, they also have the Major and Colonel to wait upon.’
‘It is not all bad, you know. Eilidh confided to me that she hopes to be able to retire soon, with all the extra money she is earning from the officers. They are happy to pay for any information about the family and their guests.’
‘Oh, no!’
He grinned. ‘It seems the servants come up with quite ingenious ploys to induce the Colonel to grease their palms, but once the money has changed hands the reason for their suspicions proves to be nothing but rats gnawing in the stables, or an errant boot boy creeping about the house at night. They all think it a very good game to dupe the English officers.’
‘I wish they would not,’ she said seriously. ‘Think what might happen if they are found out, or if they inadvertently divulge something important.’
‘They know what they are about and are all very loyal to the family. But you are not enjoying the jest, Maddie. What is it—has anything happened?
She hesitated, not sure if she should worry him.
‘The Major was very curious about me at breakfast this morning.’
‘Perfectly natural, since you appeared out of nowhere.’
‘Of course, but when we were talking, I am afraid I allowed my temper to run away. My answers to Major Rutter were a little...sharp.’
‘You spoke your mind without thinking.’ He smiled. ‘I know you too well now to be surprised at that! Suspicious of you, is he?’
‘Worse. I think he has taken a fancy to me.’
‘What?’
‘It is no funning matter,’ she retorted, when Grant threw back his head and laughed.
Her anger died away and she sighed, putting one hand to touch the fichu around her shoulders.
‘I was so careful to dress modestly this morning. And I thought I was safe enough, for I am not fair and pretty, like Anne.’
Grant was about to disagree, but he bit his tongue to stop himself. That gown would attract any man’s notice, and when her temper was roused, her deep blue eyes sparkling and a delicate flush on her cheeks, she had something more than mere prettiness. However, the idea that the English officer had seen that fire in Maddie disturbed him and he shifted restlessly in the bed. Madeleine observed it and was quick to reassure him.
‘There is no danger, none at all. The McBinnies have taken me under their wing and I do not believe the officers will wish to offend them, so you must not think I am concerned for my safety.’
‘No, I know you can take care of yourself very well, as you have shown me on more than one occasion.’ His lips twitched. ‘Including our first meeting, when I came in to find you had smashed a jug over your attacker and broken his head.’
For once she did not smile. ‘I hope I shall not be obliged to apply such drastic measures to Major Rutter. I fear he would make everyone in the house suffer for it. A better solution would be for me to keep out of the way when they are in the house.’
‘That is simple, then. You can spend your days here, with me.’
‘Here, alone with you? No, no, I could not. It would not be proper.’
‘It is a sickroom, Madeleine. I need nursing.’
There was no mistaking the decided glint in his eye.
‘You need nothing of the sort,’ she said crossly. ‘Lady McBinnie told me your arm is healing well and you will soon be able to leave your bed.’
‘Ah, but not quite yet.’
‘Very well, I will come back here this evening. When the officers have returned.’
‘And not before?’ He gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘It is devilish dull here if I am alone all afternoon, Maddie. Do say you will stay. If you do not, then Lady McBinnie will insist that poor Eilidh or one of the other servants must be here to watch over me.’
‘Perhaps Anne might do it,’ she ventured.
She watched closely for his reaction, but he merely pulled a face.
‘I think Anne finds it tedious to be with me. She came in earlier, to see how I go on, and we found little to say to one another apart from the mundane.’
‘I expect she is shy.’
‘Shy!’ Grant laughed. ‘And why should that be, when we have known one another for years? No, Anne is the most delightful girl and she is far too polite to say so, but she would prefer to be anywhere rather than sitting here entertaining me!’
Madeleine thought otherwise, but she could not say so, having given her word to Anne.
‘Please say you will stay, Maddie.’
She wavered. Her head told her she should not be alone with him. He was too charming and his smile had a most disturbing effect upon her, bringing forth all sorts of wicked thoughts that had no place in the mind of a well-bred lady. However, she had to acknowledge that he still had dark shadows beneath his eyes and his arm might well be paining him.
‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘If it will allow the servants to go about their work, I will go now and ask Lady McBinnie if she has any objection to my sitting with you.’
When she had gone, Grant leaned back against the pillows. He would be very happy to have Madeleine’s company. Happier than he dare say, knowing that she was as nervous as a bird around him, but he could not rest when she was out of his sight. He might not be in a position to protect her, but if she was here with him, if he could see her, at least he would know she was safe.
Chapter Twelve
‘I can do this. I will not lose my head over this man.’
Madeleine repeated the words over and over as she went in search of her hostess. Grant Rathmore was in her thoughts far more than he should have been and she knew she must fight it. At first she had imbued him with heroic qualities after he had rescued her from her attackers at Kildrummy. Now he evoked her sympathy because he was wounded. Added to his undoubted good looks and his charm, it made for a dangerous combination.
She had seen women fall in love with her father because of his attractive manners or his apparent power and affluence, but once he appealed to their compassion they became slavishly besotted. She had seen through it, knowing the sad eyes, the apparent fortitude while suffering, was nothing but a ruse. Once his interest had waned, or their usefulness was at an end, Papa would cast off his devoted lover without a second thought. She had seen it often and often, and vowed long ago that she would not become one of those women.
* * *
Madeleine returned to the sickroom a short time later armed with an assortment of items that made the patient raise his eyebrows in surprise.
‘There is mending to be done, torn flounces, ripped sheets and so on,’ she told him. ‘It will give me something to do while I am sitting with you and the light is good. It will not prevent my conversing, should you wish to talk. And I have cards, too, when you feel a little better.’
‘Thank you.’
‘But I could not bring you any books,’ she went on. ‘They are locked away and Sir Edmund is gone out. Anne sa
id she would ask him to look out something for you, when he returns.’
‘I hope he still has a copy of Robinson Crusoe. Anne and I read it together, when we were children.’
Maddie said nothing, busying herself with placing her sewing on a small table that she carried across to set beside her chair. Despite her assertion that she would not succumb to the attractions of this man, she could not ignore the stab of jealousy when he mentioned Anne.
‘Do you know the book?’ Grant asked her. ‘I should like you to read it to me, an you would.’
The stab of jealousy melted into a little burst of pleasure.
‘I have not read it and should very much like to do so. I will make enquiries as soon as Sir Edmund returns.’
* * *
The day passed quickly. Maddie had expected to feel shy in Grant’s company, but although there was a little constraint at first, it soon disappeared. She experienced one difficult moment when Mrs Forbes asked for her help to change his nightshirt and rebandage his arm. She found her eyes drawn to his naked body, taking in the strong muscled shoulders, his broad chest shadowed with dark hair and the flat plane of his stomach disappearing beneath the sheet that covered his lower body. There were scars of old wounds, too, some not yet fully healed, reminding her that he was a Jacobite soldier. That his life was in danger.
Her hands trembled a little when the housekeeper asked her to bathe his injured arm, but she squared her shoulders and set to work. Grant was silent, his eyes closed, but a quick glance at his face showed her he was very pale and tense, his jaw clenched against the pain and that, as much as the ugly wounds, made her realise he was still a long way from well.
Mrs Forbes applied honey to his injuries and wrapped a clean bandage around his arm.
‘There. Now we will pop him into a clean nightshirt and that will be that.’
‘Must we disturb him again?’ asked Maddie, glancing at Grant’s white face.
‘Lord love you, mistress, if we don’t he will very likely catch a chill. This room gets very cold in the evenings.’
‘Best do as Mrs Forbes tells you,’ he murmured, giving the lie to her suspicion that he had fainted. ‘I must wear a nightshirt to spare your maiden blushes, Maddie.’
The housekeeper tutted.
‘Whisht, now, stop teasing the lass, Master Grant. She is a very sensible young lady and I’m glad to have her here to keep an eye on ye.’
‘So am I,’ he replied. ‘Truly.’
He opened his eyes and smiled at Maddie, all bland innocence, but she was not deceived. She glowered at him before fixing her mind solely upon helping him into his nightshirt. When it was done and Mrs Forbes went off, carrying away the bowl and all the dirty linen, Madeleine went around the bed, straightening the covers while Grant lay back against his freshly plumped bank of pillows.
‘If that hurt you it is no more than you deserve,’ she told him in severe tones. ‘I am breaking every rule of propriety being here. It is no laughing matter.’
‘This, from the woman who fleeced an army officer of his ill-gotten gains. While dressed as a man, too.’
‘That was different.’
‘Ah, yes. Of course it was.’
By this time she knew him well enough to hear the tired note beneath the mockery. Immediately her mood softened. He was reaching awkwardly for the water glass beside the bed and she hastened to hand it to him, slipping an arm about his shoulders to support him as he drank. She acted instinctively and it was only when she was holding him that she realised how intimate it was. With only the thin linen nightshirt over his skin she could feel the knotted strength of him, the hard muscles of his shoulders beneath her hand. Their heads were close together, too. Another inch and her face would be resting against his, or she might even turn and gently kiss his cheek...
The thought sent the blood rushing up through her, heating her skin, and she realised with shocking clarity that what she felt was pure lust. Her breasts and thighs positively ached with it. The idea frightened her so much that it was all she could do not to jump away from Grant. Only by a supreme effort of will did she manage to hold him until he had taken a few sips of water and she could ease him back on to the pillows. She hoped he would not see how her hand was shaking as she took the glass from him and set it down.
‘You should rest now.’
He sighed. ‘Aye. I am tired as a dog.’
He sank into sleep, his body relaxing, and she carefully pulled the covers up over his chest. The raging desire had died to a simmer, but now it was replaced with an overwhelming urge to protect and cherish this man. Tenderly she reached out and placed a light kiss on his cheek.
‘Then sleep now. My Highland soldier.’
* * *
The days fell into a pattern. Madeleine broke her fast with the family and, if the officers were present, Lady McBinnie would discuss all that needed to be done that day. Rising from the breakfast table, Madeleine would follow her ladyship and Anne to the kitchens or the linen room, from where she could slip away to the sickroom.
At first, Grant slept a great deal and she spent most of the time at her mending, but soon he began to recover and required entertaining during his wakeful hours. Maddie read to him or they talked. He made no attempt to flirt with her and she relaxed in his company, happy to tell him more about her life in France, being schooled by a governess while living with Tante Élisabeth in dull respectability, until Papa decided she was old enough to be useful to him.
‘Useful?’ Grant pounced on the word.
‘Oh, there is no doubt he would have left me in Dijon if he had not needed a hostess. He had been dangling after a recently widowed comtesse, but it all came to nought so he decided to take me with him. You see, he needed someone to keep house for him and provide him with an air of propriety.
‘Do I seem disrespectful? I know my father very well. He has had a string of mistresses, but he trusted none of them to run his household. He liked to keep them at a distance, so that he might cast them off more easily when he grew bored. You look censorious, but you need not be, Papa was always very generous. He never turned any one of them off without a sou.’
‘That is very good of him.’
He sounded severe and she raised her brows at him. ‘Did your papa never have a mistress?’
‘Not to my knowledge. He and my mother have always been devoted to one another. They have never been apart for more than a few days.’
‘Tiens!’
He grinned. ‘Now I have surprised you! I thought it was quite normal, when I was growing up, but the more I have seen of the world the more I know that such happy, comfortable marriages are very rare. I have made up my mind that I shall not take a wife until I can find a woman who inspires just such devotion in me.’
* * *
Comfortable! Maddie bent her head over her darning. Yes, he would want a sweet, conformable wife. Not a hot-tempered, flighty piece who was constantly at odds with him. Someone gentle, well-mannered and cheerful. Like Anne McBinnie.
For a moment Maddie thought the loud sigh she heard was her own, but it was Grant and he followed it with a bitter laugh.
‘Not that I am in any position to consider such a thing. And now I doubt I ever will be.’
Maddie snipped off her thread and carefully returned the needle to the workbag.
‘It is illness that has dragged down your spirits,’ she told him, keeping her voice steady, prosaic. ‘You will come about again, Grant Rathmore.’
‘Do you really think so?’
‘I do.’ She forced herself to meet his eyes and give him a reassuring smile before she said brightly, ‘Now, I must go and change for dinner.’
* * *
After promising to look in again later, Madeleine went away and Grant settled down to wait for Mrs Forbes to bring in his own meal. He was glad Maddie was coming back and not only because h
e worried about her being in company with English officers. He could not deny that her conversation raised his spirits. Her life was so different from his own. She had been mistress of her father’s household, attending glittering balls, mixing with exalted personages. She was very much a society lady, while he was scarcely a gentleman in her eyes. His Grand Tour had consisted of a mere three months visiting France and Italy and although he had spent two Seasons in London with his Hampshire relatives, he had not enjoyed it and it was with relief that he had returned to the Highlands and thrown himself into learning everything necessary to run Ardvarrick, when the time came.
Only now, Ardvarrick was lost to him. He could never return.
* * *
Madeleine slipped quietly along the corridors to the sickroom the following morning to find that Grant had left his bed and was sitting in a chair. She frowned at his pallor.
‘Whatever are you doing?’ she exclaimed. ‘Are you sure it is wise to be out of bed so soon?’
‘I am very sure! I cannot lie abed for ever. Hanson helped me, after he had shaved me and tied back my hair. I feel so damned helpless.’
‘You are making good progress, but it is not yet a week since we arrived here.’
‘But you cannot remain at this house much longer. I must get you to the meeting place.’
‘You must not fret over that,’ she told him. ‘There is plenty of time yet.’
‘Not for such a long journey. As I recall, your father’s letter to Lord Lochall said the French ship will be at the rendezvous around midsummer.’
‘Yes. More than two weeks away. And the ship will wait a few days for me,’ she reminded him. Her brow creased. ‘Midsummer’s Day, that will add considerably to the risk, will it not? There will be no darkness to cover the ship’s movements.’
‘True, but I know that coast,’ said Grant. ‘It has the advantage of islands and inlets where a vessel may evade prying eyes. But that is by the by. I want you to promise me you will do nothing until I am well enough to escort you.’
Rescued by Her Highland Soldier Page 15
