Whatever was the matter with her? She had never felt so breathless and giddy in her life! It was almost as if Garrett wielded some mysterious power over her whenever she was near him, eliciting a strange yearning within her she could not comprehend. A yearning such as she had felt at the loch, shattering her reason and her will. A yearning that frightened her—
“If you’re up to it, captain, maybe you could tell me what happened the other night.”
Madeleine froze as she overheard Sergeant Fletcher’s words, her eyes snapping open. Her jumbled emotions receded into the background. She listened carefully, scarcely breathing.
“I think it was Black Jack,” Garrett began, describing his pursuit of a black-clad figure across the moor until the moment he was struck on the head. “I could swear it was he. I believe we’ve been searching too far afield, Fletcher. Perhaps this brigand resides nearby, maybe in the mountains directly to the east, maybe even in Farraline. I want you to double the guards at night, and we’ll also begin patrolling the village.”
Madeleine swore softly. She should have been more careful, but she hadn’t expected anyone to be out on the moor at that time of night. Now her task would be harder than ever.
“I’ve some important news for you, Captain Marshall, especially in light of what you just told me. It came by special courier yesterday from Colonel Wolfe. Perhaps we should discuss it later, if you’re feeling tired.”
“I’m fine, except for this blasted ache in my head. What is the news?”
“Black Jack and his men raided another supply train, just north of Inverfarigaig, on the night you were injured. It could very well have been he out on the moor, on his way back from the raid.”
“Damn!”
“It seems our presence hasn’t daunted the bastard in the least, captain.”
“Was there anything else in the message?”
“Yes. I’ve got it right here.”
Madeleine heard the crisp rustling of paper, then another vehement outburst from Garrett.
“Three weeks? He’s given us only three weeks to capture the brigand? The colonel must be mad, or, more likely General Hawley had something to do with it. He probably lost more of his precious wine in that supply train.”
Madeleine gulped. There had been several casks of wine in one of the front wagons. Since wine was useless to them, Kenneth and Allan had dumped the casks into Loch Ness, to make more room in the wagon for foodstuffs.
They had lowered their voices, and she couldn’t hear them. Frustrated, she crept closer to the door. What she heard then filled her with apprehension.
“I think it’s time I tell Madeleine about our mission.”
“Why, captain? She’s just a slip of a girl. What could she possibly know about Black Jack?”
“She’s the mistress of Farraline, Fletcher. The Frasers of Strathherrick are her people. She must know something about what’s going on in this valley. If I bring our mission out into the open, she might be willing to help us. Especially if she knows the danger her people face if Black Jack isn’t captured soon.”
“You would trust her with this information, captain? A Highland wench? Say she does know Black Jack’s whereabouts. What if she warns him and we never find him?”
“We’ll have to take that risk. I have no choice but to trust her. Three weeks is not a long time, Fletcher, and you know Hawley. Madeleine may be our best chance to end this peacefully. I only hope she’ll trust me enough to believe what I tell her.”
“Would you like me to talk to her, sir? You should rest, at least for another day or so. You look tired, and I’ve burdened you enough already.”
“No, I’ll take care of it. I’m sure I’ll soon feel more like myself.”
“I hope so, captain. You gave me the devil of a scare. I’ll leave you now so you can get some sleep.”
Madeleine blanched and backed quickly away from the door. She held her breath as she hurried along the hallway and down the stairs. She didn’t stop until she had reached the kitchen, where she slumped into a chair.
So Garrett was planning to take her into his confidence and to ask her questions about Black Jack. Well, she had some questions of her own. She rested her forehead in her hands, her mind reeling.
What was this danger he had mentioned? Did it have something to do with what he had said last week about innocent people suffering and bearing the blame? How did that fat swine, General Hawley, fit into all this?
Exasperated, she slammed her small fist on the table. She didn’t have time to sort it all out now. Her kinsmen were waiting for her in the village, waiting to plan their next raid. She’d sent a message to Ewen saying she would meet them that afternoon at Angus’s cottage if she could get away.
With so many people to feed in Strathherrick, the food they’d stolen a few nights ago would not last much longer, and the stores hidden in the cave on Beinn Dubhcharaidh were being depleted with each passing day. She did not have time to waste wondering what the redcoats were up to. Besides, if Garrett was true to his word she would know the answers to her troubling questions soon enough.
Madeleine grabbed a thick woolen shawl from a peg by the kitchen door and wrapped it securely around her, covering her head. She opened the door and stepped out into the drizzling rain, ignoring the guards’ curious stares as she sloshed along the puddle drive.
