“Who’ll help me with the cleaning and washing then, Maddie?” Glenis protested, raising her voice. At Madeleine’s stern look her tone fell to an agitated whisper. “With my old bones, ‘tis a wonder I can still move about the house at all!”
“I’ll help ye,” Madeleine said. “I’m no stranger to housework, if ye remember.” She smiled faintly. “I can wield a broom and dustcloth just as surely as a pistol, Glenis, though I may not like it as well.”
“Och, but that’s just it, lass. Ye’ve got yer other duties to think about. Ye’ve no time to be helpin’ me. And knowin’ ye to be as stubborn as yer da, I dinna expect ye’ll be ridin’ out any less than before, soldiers or no!”
Madeleine fell silent. To be truthful, she wasn’t quite sure what she and her men were going to do now that the English soldiers had come to Strathherrick. Their situation had become much more precarious. Yet she wouldn’t make any final decision until she spoke with her band later that evening.
That is, if she managed to sneak out without being detected. She had no idea how many guards Captain Marshall was planning to station around the manor house, or where. Their positions would certainly be a crucial factor in any future raids.
“Glenis, there’s something else ye must know,” she began. She quickly relayed the details of her encounter with Captain Marshall in the main hallway, and of the last raid. Glenis’s eyes widened as she listened, her forehead furrowing with concern when Madeleine reported her suspicion about the purpose of Captain Marshall’s mission.
“I told ye they’d come lookin’ for ye one day!” Glenis hissed, wringing her hands. “Ye wouldna listen! Och, ‘tis a woeful day, Maddie. What are ye goin’ to do?”
Madeleine shook her head. “I winna know until I speak with Angus Ramsay and the Burkes tonight, in Farraline. They’ll send word to the Fraser brothers. Together we’ll decide if we press on or lay low until the soldiers leave.”
“Dear God, what a choice ye have to make, lass!”
“Aye. Either way, ‘tis risky. If we go on with our raids, we may be found out. If we stop, the villagers will run out of food. We have enough stores hidden in the caves of Beinn Dubhcharaidh to last awhile, but it could be gone before Captain Marshall and his men depart Strathherrick. I, for one, dinna wish to see children starving again. I’ll say as much to Ewen and Angus tonight.”
Glenis grew pensive, then her eyes widened in apprehension. “Are ye mad, lass?” she blurted, as if she had just realized what Madeleine had said. “Ye canna walk out the front door tonight, just as ye please, without the soldiers or Captain Marshall wantin’ to know where ye’re goin’ at such a late hour!”
“Shhh, Glenis,” Madeleine warned, looking fearfully at the window. “Someone will surely hear ye.” She bent her head close to her servant’s ear. “Ye’ve forgotten about great-grandfather’s tunnel.”
Glenis sighed heavily, her shoulders appearing even more stooped than before. “Aye, so I have…” She glanced sternly at Madeleine. “If I wasna already an old woman, ye’d be turnin’ my hair gray, Madeleine Elisabeth Fraser. I told ye before I wouldna burden ye with my fears, and I winna now. I’ll pray for ye, though, good and hard, so ye’ll be certain to journey safely to Farraline and back again, and make the right decision.”
Glenis sniffed suddenly, her nose wrinkling. “Och, the scones, lass, they’re burnin’!” She turned back to the hearth and grabbed the spatula, deftly flipping the scones one by one from the griddle. “Just in time,” she said. “I made yer favorite, cinnamon, nutmeg, and treacle. I thought ‘twould cheer ye after the day ye’ve had… You’ll be needing them now more than ever.”
She took a white china plate from the cupboard, placed two golden-brown scones on it, then handed the plate to Madeleine. “I understand yer worries for Meg and Kitty. Yet I dinna think ye should be botherin’ yerself with house chores. If I know ye as well as I think I do, ye’ll be out on a raid before another week is past.”
Before Madeleine could reply, Glenis gestured to the table. “Go on, lass. I’ll fetch the tea.”
Madeleine obliged her and sat down while Glenis followed with a delicate china teapot. She set it on the embroidered runner and leaned against the table.
“Let Meg stay on, Maddie. She’s a good head on her shoulders and she works hard. Kitty’s impetuous and far too pretty for her own good.” Glenis paused, her gnarled hand smoothing the runner. She sighed sadly. “There’s few young men left in the valley to court her now, and she might easily be swayed by smooth words, even from a redcoat. The girls know nothing of yer raids, to be sure, but I’d trust Meg over Kitty to keep quiet if she saw anything she shouldna.”
Madeleine was silent for several moments, mulling over the request. Glenis was right, she decided. The girls were both sixteen, but Meg was far more mature. She could be trusted. And Glenis could certainly use the help.
“Very well, ye win,” she said at last. “Meg may stay on. But if I see the soldiers giving her a rough time of it, she’ll have to go. Agreed?”
“Aye, ye know best,” Glenis replied. She sat down across from Madeleine and poured them both a cup of hot, strong tea. “I’ve made barley soup for supper, if ye’ve a mind to taste it,” she offered.
“The scones will be enough for me,” Madeleine said, breaking one apart. Steam drifted up from the crumbly surface, melting the sweet butter she had slathered on it. She took a bite, enjoying the melded flavors of spices and molasses.
A companionable silence fell over the kitchen. Madeleine ate quickly while Glenis sipped her tea. She was anxious to retire to her bedchamber.
It was her plan to wait until the house grew quiet, then creep down the side stairs and into the drawing room. If she could make it that far without being detected by any guards, she could surely make it to Farraline. The trap door leading to the secret tunnel was hidden in the drawing room closet.
When her great-grandfather had built Mhor Manor a hundred years ago, he had dug a tunnel beneath it in case the family should ever need an escape route in time of war. It ran from the closet, the trap door concealed in the intricate floor planking, to a copse of ancient fir trees some forty yards beyond the house. As far as Madeleine knew, the tunnel had only been used once for its intended purpose.
Madeleine finished the last of her tea and set the cup down with a clatter. “Ye make the best scones, Glenis,” she said, rising from her chair and planting a kiss on her forehead.
“Are ye sure ‘tis enough to hold ye, lass?”
“Aye, ‘tis plenty. Sleep well tonight, and dinna worry for me.” She opened the kitchen door. “Och, I almost forgot. If Captain Marshall should come looking for me, tell him I’ve retired early. He mentioned some nonsense about one of his soldiers being a fair cook and asked that I join him for supper. Can ye imagine? I told him the food would grow cold and rot before I’d ever sup with him.”
She began to close the door, then glanced back over her shoulder, smiling wickedly. “Better still, I know what ye can say, Glenis. Tell him I’m a delicate lass. The excitement of the day was simply too much for me.”
“A delicate lass indeed,” she heard Glenis mutter as she shut the door. “As daring as any man, she is, and with enough spirit to prove it!”
