“That’s hardly a way to treat your new guests, Mistress Fraser,” the officer began, interrupting her thoughts. “Allow me to introduce—”
“There’s no need for introductions,” Madeleine snapped, quickly recovering herself. She looked him full in the face. “I know who ye are, Captain Marshall.”
“Garrett.”
“Whatever. Glenis has told me all about ye.”
“Ah, then. I hope it was complimentary.”
Garrett smiled as his gaze wandered over her. He took in every aspect of her comely appearance, from her glossy curls to the trim fit of her lavender gown. Its buttoned bodice, demurely edged with lace, revealed a full swell of creamy bosom. She was definitely not a maidservant, he thought appreciatively. How could he have so misjudged her?
He was also pleased to observe that she looked none the worse for her accident. Her cheeks were flushed with a healthy rose color, her eyes were lively and sparkling. He took a step toward her. “How are you feeling?”
“What are ye and yer sorry lot of soldiers doing in my house?” she demanded, disregarding his soft-spoken question. His frank appraisal was unsettling, and she shivered, acutely aware of his striking good looks. She placed her hands on her hips and eyed him belligerently, forcing her mind from this baffling attraction.
“Perhaps we could sit in the drawing room while we discuss a few matters, rather than stand here in the hall. Or we could stroll outside. The sun is about to set and it’s a lovely summer evening.”
“I’ll not sit down nor walk in any garden with the likes of ye,” Madeleine said evenly, raising her chin. “Ye’ll kindly answer my question, Captain Marshall. Why are ye turning my home into a…a bunkhouse?’
“Very well.” Garrett gestured to the soldier, who was still standing stiffly to one side. The man quickly gathered up the bedding and hurried past them. Only when he disappeared down the hallway did Garrett speak again. His expression sobered.
“I’ll be brief, Mistress Fraser. Your manor house will be serving as headquarters and billeting for myself and my men for an indefinite period of time.”
“Billeting?”
“Yes. We’ve been ordered by our chief commander, General Henry Hawley, to occupy Strathherrick.”
Madeleine started. She had heard of Butcher Cumberland’s bastard brother. His cruelty had far surpassed the duke’s at Culloden. If this man was one of his officers, surely he was cut from the same maggot-infested cloth. “For what purpose, captain, if I might ask?”
Garrett did not readily reply. He could not tell her the truth because it might jeopardize his mission.
If she knew anything about Black Jack, she could possibly warn the brigand of their intent to capture him. No doubt the bastard would flee into the mountains at the first whiff of trouble. Then all would be lost, for himself and the people of Strathherrick. Perhaps if he could ever trust her, it might be different, but for now…
“Our purpose is simple,” he lied. “We’ve been stationed in this valley to keep the peace.”
She stared at him incredulously. “Keep the peace? Surely ‘tis a jest, Captain Marshall,” she scoffed. “Since when have ye redcoats been interested in anything more than cruel slaughter, the rape of innocent women and young girls, and the burning of homes and the stealing of cattle?”
Garrett’s jaw tightened. He could not contradict her, even if he had wanted to. There was truth in her words, demonstrated time and again these past months. Yet he hated being lumped with the rest of his overzealous, and often unscrupulous, compatriots.
Obviously he and his men would have to prove that they meant no harm to the Highlanders of Strathherrick. This would be a peaceful occupation, just as he had discussed with Colonel Wolfe. Better to establish such a tone from the start.
“No, it is not a jest,” he replied quietly. “We’re here to ensure the welfare of those Highlanders who abide by the new laws. The English laws. But I agree with you wholeheartedly, Mistress Fraser. Too many innocents have been punished unjustly for the sake of a few troublemakers.”
Madeleine was taken aback. Such words from an Englishman? If she did not know better, she might have considered his statement to be some sort of an apology. Yet smooth words only made her more suspicious of him.
“What troublemakers do ye mean, captain?” she asked tightly, a vision of her father flashing before her. “Do ye refer to the brave clansmen who fought and died for the rightful heir to the throne of Great Britain, King James? Or perhaps ye mean the ones who’ve escaped the noose and yer filthy gaols, only to be hunted mercilessly in their own homeland by the lot of ye bloodthirsty cowards.”
Garrett felt a quickening of anger, but quelled it. He knew she was baiting him. He would not give her the satisfaction of justifying her preconceptions about all English officers. He decided a half truth was better than none.
“I admire bravery in any man, friend or foe,” he said. “I’ll not speak ill of those who fight for their beliefs. The troublemakers are the thieves and brigands who now prey on the Englishmen and Scotsmen loyal to King George. Whether they commit their crimes for profit or revenge, the outcome is the same. It is the innocent people who will suffer and bear the blame if these brigands are not stopped.”
Madeleine had to force herself to breathe steadily. His cryptic words fell together like pieces of a puzzle in her mind.
God’s wounds! This officer and his men had been sent to look for her! That had to be it. They must have been traveling to Farraline when she and her kinsmen raided their camp. Yet it was clear he didn’t suspect her, or she would have surely been arrested already.
“So what ye’re saying, Captain Marshall, is that some of these…troublemakers are in Strathherrick?” she asked innocently, belying her inner turmoil.
Garrett perceived he had given more information than he had intended. It seemed his hostess was very inquisitive.
