“Lead on, Mistress Fraser,” he said gallantly.
She smiled briefly in return and kicked her dun-colored mare into a gallop. She purposely veered them away from Farraline and the much-traveled roads connecting the villages in Strathherrick, opting instead for a lesser known route across the valley.
She had no intention of passing through any villages in the company of a redcoat. It was bad enough that word had already been spread that she and Glenis had nursed Garrett back to health. Meg was less trustworthy than Madeleine had thought, it seemed.
Her kinsmen had questioned her about the rumor when she met them to plan last night’s raid, but fortunately they had accepted her explanation that Glenis had taken pity on Garrett and required her help. An old woman’s lapse was easily forgiven. She, on the other hand, had to be more careful.
She could not afford to fan the flames of gossip any further by riding brazenly at Garrett’s side for all to see. Her people trusted and respected her, and she wanted it to remain that way. If this route took them longer, so be it. At least her credibility would be preserved.
They rode in uncomfortable silence for the first half hour, skirting Loch Mhor and the village of Errogie, then headed northwest, where they forded the River Farigaig.
The lathered horses seemed to enjoy the crossing. The day was very warm, and the sun was brilliant in the blue sky scattered with clouds. The river’s shimmering depths and shady banks offered a cool respite from the midday heat.
Madeleine was halfway across the rushing stream when her mare paused for a long drink. If the river had not been so swollen from recent rains she would not have cared, but she feared the strong currents might topple them. She tugged at the reins, but to no avail. The mare would not lift her head.
“Ye stubborn beast,” she said with exasperation as Garrett drew up alongside her. “On with ye now.”
“Problems?” he asked.
“‘Tis plain to see, Garrett. She winna budge!”
With a hearty laugh he took the reins from her and gave the recalcitrant mare a good yank. Madeleine nearly lost her seat as the mare bounded forward after his massive bay, and the horses splashed across the river. When she and Garrett made it to the shoreline, they were soaked and laughing uproariously.
She smiled at him through the water droplets clinging to her lashes. “Will ye look at us,” she exclaimed breathlessly. “We might as well have fallen into the river!”
“We’ll be dry soon from this heat,” Garrett said with a grin. He reached out and gently wiped a damp tendril from her flushed cheek. “The water felt good, though, didn’t it?”
“Aye,” Madeleine replied, sobering at his touch. She felt a flutter deep inside her breast as he handed her the reins. It was all she could do to murmur her thanks.
They resumed their journey, but the strained tension between them had been lifted. Madeleine began to point out sights of interest here and there, especially when they reached Wade’s Road. Loch Ness stretched to the north and south as far as the eye could see, a great expanse of smooth, blue-gray water flanked by sweeping green hills and steep rock walls dropping into its depths.
There was a decidedly gloomy air about the loch, despite the bright sunshine. Perhaps it was because the waters were so vast and so deep. Or perhaps it was the eerie stories that leaped to mind whenever one beheld the mysterious loch. Madeleine shuddered, and her skin tingled with goosebumps.
“Is it true that the Scots believe a monster roams these waters?” Garrett asked, pulling up beside her. “When I was a boy my grandmother told me such a tale, and I had nightmares for days.”
She glanced at him in surprise, wondering how he had read her thoughts. “Aye, ‘tis true,” she replied, staring back out across the dark water. “‘Tis said to be a great black beast with humps, a long neck, and wee horns on its head. I’ve never seen it, but my parents swore they did once.”
“Really? When was that?”
“Long ago, when my mother was carrying me. They were sitting over there.” She pointed to a green plateau high atop a rocky cliff, aware that Garrett was watching her with a curious mix of wonderment and skepticism. His interest spurred her on. She enjoyed telling this story immensely.
“‘Twas a cloudy, late autumn day and the wind was strong, ruffling the surface of the loch. Suddenly the water began to bubble and churn. The beast rose up from the depths and cut through the water with great curved paddles, like black wings. It left a huge wake, then ‘twas gone.” She chuckled, a faraway look in her eyes. “Da thought for sure my mother would birth me there on the cliff, she was so frightened.”
“And you believe this story?”
Madeleine stared into his eyes. “Aye, I believe it, if my father and mother said ‘twas so.” She said nothing for a long moment, then gave another little laugh and looked away. “I used to complain whenever we journeyed by the loch, because I was never gifted with a sight of the beast.” She grew thoughtful, her voice soft and quiet. “My da always said ‘twas a good lesson. ‘Maddie,’ he would tell me, ‘it teaches ye to believe in something ye canna see.’“
She sighed, touched by a wave of sadness. To think of her parents together and happy, her father alive and whole. She felt close to tears but choked them back.
“Your mother must have been very beautiful,” Garrett said sincerely, startling her. “Why is there no portrait of her at Mhor Manor?”
“All the family portraits were slashed to ribbons by the redcoats who came before ye,” she replied, watching his eyes darken.
“I’m truly sorry, Madeleine. If I’d been there, I would have done what I could to prevent—”
“‘Tis over with, Garrett,” she said with a small shrug, cutting off his unexpected apology. “I’d rather not speak of it.”
He fell silent, looking out across the loch, and she wondered what he was thinking. She felt surprisingly little resentment toward him. She could hardly blame him for what had happened to her home, nor could she imagine him ever participating in such madness. She sensed a decency in him that reminded her of her father.
