Madeleine paled, though she tried to think rationally. “No, ‘tis not possible, Angus. Ye’re jumping to conclusions. Ye hardly spoke a word that night, except for a few short commands. ‘Twas Kenneth who did most of the talking, as always. Besides, I’m the mistress of Farraline, and well Captain Marshall knows it. ‘Tis my right to visit anyone I please.”
Angus seemed not to have heard her. He moved from window to window, not taking his eyes from the soldiers until they had ridden through the village. When they were gone, he turned to her at last, his usually ruddy face ashen and his features drawn.
“I dinna like the looks of this, Maddie,” he said, sinking into a chair.
Madeleine sat down beside him. “If ye dinna like the looks of the soldiers, ye winna like what I have to tell ye, either.”
Angus shot her a puzzled glance. “What do ye mean?”
She shook her head firmly. “Ewen and Duncan must be here, too. This is a decision we must make together.” She felt a rush of pity. She had never seen the stoic widower so shaken. “Perhaps ye’d feel better after a dram of whiskey, Angus.”
“Aye, now there’s a good idea,” he agreed, brightening somewhat, his normal color gradually returning. “A wee dram of the water of life to help an old Scotsman think more clearly.” He reached behind him and took a tall glass decanter from the rough-hewn cupboard. “Would ye like a half?”
“Aye.”
Angus poured them both a small glass of the clear, amber liquid, then set the decanter down in front of him. “To our Bonnie Prince Charlie!” he toasted, raising his glass.
“Prince Charlie!” Madeleine echoed. She followed Angus’s suit and drained her glass in one swallow. It would have curled her toes if she had not been brought up on the stuff since childhood. The liquid still burned her throat like wildfire.
“Better?” she said, trying not to gasp.
“Aye.” Angus poured himself another, downed it, then rose to his feet. “I’ll fetch Ewen and Duncan.” He put on his cap, then strode through the door, slamming it behind him.
The silence in the large, shadowed room was overwhelming. Madeleine fingered her glass while she waited, turning it around and around, rehearsing her words in her mind. She would have to be doubly persuasive because of what Angus had told her. She hoped her kinsmen would agree to continue their raids, whether Garrett had recognized Angus’s voice or not.
Either that, she considered grimly, or she would have to go it alone. And she would, too! No one would recognize her voice. She had never said a word on any of their raids. She had nothing to fear.
Chapter 8
“So we’re decided?” Madeleine asked, looking around the small table. “We’ll continue the raids, soldiers or no?”
Ewen and Duncan quickly nodded their assent while Angus stared thoughtfully at his folded hands.
“Angus?”
He glanced at her, his brow creased, his deep-set eyes mirroring his turmoil. “Aye, Maddie, I’ll go along,” he said reluctantly. “Though I think I’m more trouble to yer cause than I’m worth.”
“Nonsense,” she objected. “We need ye, Angus. I need ye. And Captain Marshall couldna know yer voice from a few simple ayes and mutterings about the weather.” She rose from her chair. “Duncan, will ye see that Kenneth and Allan know what we’ve discussed today?”
“Aye.”
“Good. I have no doubt they’ll choose to ride with us. Ye might also ask after Kenneth’s arm, Duncan. If he needs more healing salve, ye must let me know.” She sighed. “I guess ‘tis a good thing the Fraser brothers are hiding in the mountains. If Captain Marshall ever saw the scar from that knife wound, it would give Kenneth away for sure.”
She walked to the door, then turned around, her somber gaze sweeping the little party. “If we’re careful and dinna make any wrong moves, there’ll be no trouble. Just be about yer business as before. In no time those soldiers will leave Strathherrick, none the wiser.” She smiled faintly. “Until tomorrow, then. I’ll meet you at the old yew tree at midnight.”
Madeleine closed the door on the low buzz of male voices. She knew her kinsmen would probably share a few drams of whiskey and no doubt discuss their next planned raid on Wade’s Road before they dispersed. As for herself, two halves were quite enough. She felt a bit dizzy. She set off through the village and then down the winding road leading to Mhor Manor.
She was not surprised that the puddles dotting the road earlier that afternoon had vanished altogether, leaving the surface hard-packed and dry. The day was unusually warm for the Highlands, and the hot sun was relentless.
As she walked, Madeleine felt sweat trickling down her back and between her breasts. The heat was so oppressive her breathing was becoming labored, and she cursed the constricting stays she wore. She thought longingly of a cool sip of water and suddenly had an idea.
It had been well over a week since she’d gone swimming in Loch Conagleann at the foot of Beinn Bhuidhe. The tiny loch was one of her favorite places, secluded, peaceful, with a mountain-fed waterfall refreshing its pristine depths. Aye, that was it. A swim was just what she needed.
Madeleine quickened her pace, eager to be rid of her thirst and her sweat-soaked clothing. She left the dusty road behind her, opting for a footpath she had used since childhood. It was the quickest way she knew to the loch.
She almost shouted for joy when she finally reached it. The clear aquamarine water seemed to beckon to her. The calm surface stretched out before her like a shimmering silver mirror in the bright sunlight, disturbed only by a plummeting waterfall at the northernmost end. The tall fir trees rimming the shoreline rustled with the barest breeze, fanning her flushed face.
She immediately kicked off her brogues and rolled down her stockings, holding everything in one hand as she tramped along the gently sloping banks looking for a choice, shaded spot. The grass tickled her toes, and she paused to pick a handful of bluebells and sweet yellow primroses. She inhaled deeply, the delicate fragrance bringing a wide smile to her lips.
