“Has the babe come yet?” he inquired lightly.
“Babe?” Madeleine replied, confused. She gasped, suddenly remembering her excuse of a kinswoman near childbirth. She nodded vigorously. “Aye, ‘tis a fine strapping boy, born just an hour past,” she blurted out, noting he was eyeing her quizzically.
“Mother and child are doing well?” he asked, a curious smile playing about his lips.
She laughed nervously. “Och, they couldna be better, though ‘twas a good thing I brought more of Glenis’s herbs. ‘Twas a long, difficult birth.” She glanced pointedly at the kitchen door. “Glenis is waiting for a full accounting, Garrett,” she rushed on. “She’s a keen interest in birthing bairns, ye know. Even though she’s too old for midwifery now, she likes to keep up on such things.” She paused, catching a breath. “If ye’ll kindly excuse me.”
“By all means,” Garrett allowed gallantly, caressing her arm before he released her. “Perhaps after you’ve spoken with Glenis, we could share supper tonight. Say, in an hour? We won’t be able to linger very long, but I’d be honored by your company, even for a short while.”
Madeleine stopped midway through the door, her pulse racing as she considered his unexpected invitation.
She didn’t like the thought of being alone with him again, recalling the mixed torrent of emotions she had experienced at breakfast, but there didn’t seem to be any way to avoid it. Supper would probably be her only opportunity to talk with him privately before he rode out, and he had to know her change of heart concerning Black Jack’s compatriots.
Besides, an hour would give her just enough time to see to everything Glenis might need and counter any of her protests about leaving Mhor Manor.
Madeleine peeked at him over her shoulder. “Aye, I’ll sup with ye, Garrett,” she said. Then she disappeared into the kitchen and closed the door.
Garrett stood there a moment, a familiar sense of bewilderment washing over him. He had experienced it during his every encounter with Madeleine since…
He had first felt it that morning when she had asked him abruptly to leave the room, hiding herself from him as if he hadn’t so recently delighted in the wondrous perfection of her body. Her subdued greeting had hardly been the welcome he had expected after the wildly passionate night they had shared.
Then at breakfast, she had been thoroughly preoccupied despite the seriousness of their conversation. Even when their talk changed to more lighthearted topics and he had reached his fingers out to touch hers, she had pulled her hand away. She had seemed agitated and had finally excused herself, saying she had to change clothes and then journey into Farraline to see after her kinswoman.
He sighed heavily, staring at the door in consternation.
Her behavior had been peculiar at best, and highly disconcerting. He could not help wondering if there really had been a new birth in Farraline. He could swear she had no idea what he was talking about when he first asked her about the babe. Yet why would she have made up such a story?
Garrett shrugged, at a complete loss. He walked back toward his men, shaking his head.
Maybe it was he. Maybe he was so distracted with the thought of finally capturing Black Jack that he was imagining difficulties where none existed.
He couldn’t wait until the bastard was clapped in chains and the whole unpleasant matter settled once and for all. Then he could devote his entire attention to Mistress Madeleine Fraser!
Chapter 19
Madeleine peered out the kitchen window, taking care to hide well behind the curtain. She watched until the last of Garrett’s soldiers disappeared down the drive, their shapes swallowed up by the deepening dusk.
A jagged streak of lightning suddenly cut across the sky, briefly illuminating the dark world outside. She glimpsed them once more before she turned from the window. Garrett was in the lead on his huge bay, followed by twenty-four mounted soldiers riding in pairs.
Madeleine leaned against the windowsill. She still couldn’t get over the frenzied activity of the past half hour. One moment she and Garrett had been eating supper in the dining room and engaging in light conversation, then she had abruptly mentioned Black Jack and everything had changed.
Garrett had almost dropped his fork when she said she had changed her mind about Black Jack’s men. His eyes had bored into hers, his mouth tightening as she told him she believed he might find the entire band of brigands on the narrow road between Errogie and Inverfarigaig.
That had been the end of supper. Garrett had excused himself immediately, saying that he and his men were setting out at once to position themselves along the road. It might be hours before Black Jack rode by, but at least they would be well hidden and ready.
Within minutes Garrett and his soldiers had assembled in front of the house, Sergeant Fletcher’s sharp commands mingling with the excited buzz of men’s voices and neighing horses. A heavy drizzle had done little to dampen the soldiers’ enthusiasm.
There had been an air of nervous excitement among them that had chilled Madeleine to the marrow. To her, it had seemed like a macabre carnival. She knew within hours many of them would be dead.
Madeleine heaved a ragged sigh and pushed away from the windowsill. She could not think of that right now. She crossed the kitchen and knocked on Glenis’s door.
“Glenis, are ye packed and ready?” she called softly, careful lest she be heard. Garrett had left six soldiers behind to patrol the manor house. She could hear Corporal Sims chatting with several guards stationed just outside the front door. Their jovial laughter carried into the kitchen.
“Glenis!” she hissed, more loudly this time. The soldiers’ high spirits were beginning to grate on her nerves, which were already stretched taut. Did they have to be so brazenly overconfident? Those six men were fortunate they had not ridden out with the others!
The grating sound of the latch lifting interrupted her grim thoughts. She stepped back as Glenis drew open the door.
Madeleine could not help thinking how fragile her servant appeared, how frail and stooped. The furrows in her face were deeper and more pronounced. It looked as if Glenis had aged another ten years since Madeleine had told her tonight would be the final raid. Yet Glenis’s dark brown eyes were glittering brightly, reflecting her plucky temper. Madeleine found solace in that, believing Glenis realized it was best that she leave Mhor Manor.
