If Angus accepted the truth, there was still a chance that he might be able to sway her kinsmen against Dougald’s hideous plan.
She cried out her anguish at the darker thought that he might not be able to convince them.
If so, she would flee her beloved Highlands with Garrett and never return.
Aye, she would do it gladly. She would do anything to save his life and their future together.
Chapter 33
Almost two hours passed before Garrett’s soldiers thundered up the dirt drive, Sergeant Fletcher in the lead.
Madeleine flew from the drawing room where she’d been anxiously waiting and met them just outside the front door. Her gaze scanned the entire group, her heart lurching in her breast. Garrett was not among them.
“Where’s Major Marshall?” she blurted as Sergeant Fletcher dismounted. He appeared startled by her question.
“The major’s not here?” he asked as she rushed up to him.
“No,” she replied, searching his face. “I’ve been standing by the window, watching, and ye’re the first to come back.”
“That’s odd,” the sergeant said, clearly perplexed. “As soon as we found our missing men, Major Marshall took off across the moor.” He cleared his throat, glancing at her somewhat sheepishly. “Don’t think me too bold, m’lady, but he said his beautiful bride was waiting for him.”
“But if he left before ye, he should have been here by now,” Madeleine insisted, too worried even to smile at the sergeant’s statement. “How far away were ye? Where did ye find yer two soldiers?”
“That’s another strange thing,” Sergeant Fletcher related. “I doubt we’d ever have found them if we hadn’t given chase after a Highlander who fired a pistol at us—”
“Ye were shot at?” she interrupted him, horrified.
“Over our heads, m’lady,” the sergeant continued. “We set off after him and stumbled upon our men, tied and blindfolded beneath a tree along the banks of Loch Mhor, almost four miles directly to the south.” He shook his head. “It was almost as if we were led to that spot, as if this whole escapade was planned, though the major and I had no clue as to why.”
“Did ye catch the man who fired upon ye?”
“No. A few of us went after the bloke, but we lost him in the woods. Major Marshall decided as long as we’d found our men, we should head back. He mentioned that .he was going to discuss it with you later, since you know these people so well. What do you think, m’lady?”
Madeleine didn’t reply, her mind racing. If Garrett and his men had ridden to the south, then they surely would have forded Aberchalder Burn. Was it possible that Garrett might have been apprehended on his way back because he was alone?
Raw fear shot through her. Had she given herself away to Dougald after all? Had he possibly sensed the truth of her feelings for Garrett? Was he planning his own personal revenge rather than waiting for this evening?
She blanched, remembering Dougald’s ominous words. He had said he wanted to strangle Garrett with his bare hands—
“Lady Marshall, are you all right?” Sergeant Fletcher asked, startling her. He took her arm. “You look ill. Let me help you inside.”
“No, I’m fine, Sergeant. But thank ye,” she said, forcing herself to think rationally and calmly. Hysterics would do neither her nor Garrett any good and would only stir the sergeant’s suspicions. She had to act, and quickly, but she couldn’t involve Garrett’s soldiers.
If he had been taken captive by Dougald and his renegade Highlanders, they’d probably kill him at the first sign of any redcoats, if they hadn’t already.
Sickened by the thought, Madeleine banished it from her mind. She would not give up hope so easily. She couldn’t. She began to walk into the house, Sergeant Fletcher at her side, still holding her arm.
“I’m sure my husband will return shortly,” she said to him at the foot of the stairs, affecting a light tone. “Thank ye for yer kind attention, sergeant. In truth, I have been feeling a bit tired of late. I think I’ll go lie down for a while. When Major Marshall arrives, ye might tell him I’m waiting for him in our room.”
Sergeant Fletcher nodded, smiling at her. She had no idea what Garrett might have told him, but obviously it was enough that the sergeant surmised all was well between them. She smiled back at him warmly, then turned and hurried up the stairs.
Once in the hallway, Madeleine rushed right past their bedchamber and into her former room. She dosed the door quietly and hurried over to the armoire, pulling out the bottom drawer. She dug beneath piles of linen bedding to find what she was looking for. She drew out the last set of black clothes she possessed and carried them to the bed.
She changed quickly, grateful she still had a pair of trousers to wear instead of skirts which would only slow her down. Her thoughts turned to what lay ahead.
She had to get to Farraline at once and find Angus. She held no illusions that she would be able to persuade Dougald on her own to spare Garrett’s life. Dougald would laugh in her face. She needed Angus by her side, and as many of her kinsmen as would follow her to Aberchalder Burn. But first she would need to convince them Garrett was not the king’s spy.
Madeleine shook out the black jacket, her dirk falling onto the floor. She picked it up, testing its familiar weight in her hand. The silver hilt had tarnished since she had seen it last, the night she was captured as Black Jack. How long ago it all seemed.
