“Aye, lass, I’m ready,” Glenis muttered, blowing out the solitary candle resting in a wall sconce. She walked slowly into the kitchen, carrying a large basket over each arm.
“Here, let me help ye,” Madeleine offered, but Glenis shook her gray head.
“I can manage these two,” she insisted firmly. “There’s a sack on the floor ye can carry for me.”
Madeleine picked up the bulky sack and hoisted it over her shoulder. “The cart’s just outside the kitchen door, Glenis,” she said. “The redcoats were so busy they dinna notice what I was about.”
Glenis merely nodded and shuffled to the door. She set down one of the baskets for a moment and drew the hood of her thick woolen cloak over her head. She took a last sweeping look at the dimly lit kitchen, then picked up her basket and opened the door.
They stepped outside into a light rain, thunder roaring dully in the distance. The storm that had threatened earlier seemed to have bypassed the valley, though occasional streaks of lightning still flashed across the sky.
Madeleine lifted the sack into the cart, then the baskets, and covered everything with a heavy blanket to protect the meager belongings from the rain.
“There, Glenis,” she said, turning to her servant. “The blanket should hold fine ‘til ye get to Meg’s. ‘Tisn’t raining so hard ye need to worry about yer things.”
“I dinna care if they float away,” Glenis sputtered vehemently, her face suddenly etched with sorrow. “They mean nothing to me, Maddie Fraser. Nothing. Ye’re the only thing on God’s earth I care about. And to think there’s nothing I can do to stop what’s to happen to ye…” Her voice faltered, sobs shaking her hunched shoulders. Her trembling hand gently caressed Madeleine’s wet cheek. She struggled to say something, but no words came.
“Hush with ye now,” Madeleine whispered, folding her beloved servant into her arms. It pained her heart terribly that she had no solace to offer. She hugged Glenis fiercely, the old woman shuddering in her arms, until at last she drew away. “Ye must go, darlin’ Glenis. “
“Aye,” Glenis sighed, wiping the tears from her eyes. Her quavering voice was tinged with sudden resolve. “I must go.” She turned and grasped the edge of the cart. “Help me into the seat, lass.”
Madeleine obliged her, handing her the reins when Glenis was settled, her cloak drawn tightly around her slight frame. “Godspeed,” she said simply. Without waiting for a reply, she slapped the horse’s rump. The animal jerked forward, the wheels creaking and churning in the mud.
“Hold on, there!” a male voice shouted.
Madeleine spun around just as Corporal Sims rushed up and grabbed the harness, staying the startled animal’s course.
“Where do you think you’re off to?” he blurted, looking from Glenis to Madeleine. “What’s going on here?”
Madeleine’s eyes flashed a quick warning to Glenis, urging her to be silent, then she turned back to the corporal. “Dinna Captain Marshall tell ye Glenis was traveling into Farraline this ev’ning, Corporal Sims?” she asked innocently, smiling at him. “On a special mission.”
“Why, no…uh…he didn’t,” the young soldier stated, clearly distracted by her winsome smile.
“Och, with all the rushing about, he most likely forgot,” she said lightly. She leaned forward, speaking to him in conspiratorial tones. “Can I trust ye to keep a secret, corporal?”
He glanced over his shoulder at the other guards standing by the front door, then looked back at her. He stepped closer, inclining his head. “What secret?”
“Captain Marshall asked Glenis if she wouldna mind fetching a cask of Scots whiskey for him from her cousin in Farraline,” she whispered into his ear. “Her cousin’s one of the finest distillers in Strathherrick.”
“Whiskey?”
“Aye. Captain Marshall wants it for the celebration after, well, ye know. ‘Tis a surprise for ye and the rest of the soldiers. To thank ye for all yer fine efforts, I suppose.”
“Oh,” Corporal Sims breathed, licking his lips.
“I’d go m’self,” Madeleine continued, “and spare Glenis the trouble, but she’d like to visit with her cousin. He’s been sickly of late, and she has some herb medicine for him.” She paused, smiling at him apologetically. “I hope ye dinna mind me spoiling the surprise for ye, corporal, but ye did ask.”
“No, no, I don’t mind,” the soldier stammered. His expression clouded. “It’s a dangerous night to be out, though, Mistress Fraser, for you or your housekeeper. Perhaps I should accompany her—”
“That winna be necessary, Corporal Sims,” Madeleine objected firmly, “but I do thank ye for yer kind offer just the same. I’m sure Captain Marshall would find yer efforts better spent in guarding Mhor Manor.” Her voice fell to an insistent whisper. “Glenis should really be on her way, ye know. I dinna want to think of the captain’s displeasure when he returns to find his whiskey has been delayed.”
Corporal Sims’s eyes widened, and he sharply sucked in his breath. “I’ve held you up too long already,” he said, waving on the cart.
When Glenis clucked her tongue to the horse and flicked the reins, the cart squeaked into motion, and Madeleine caught the corporal’s sleeve. “Ye winna say a word to the others, will ye, Corporal Sims?”
He glanced down at her hand on his arm and swallowed hard. If it hadn’t been so dark she would have seen he was blushing to the roots of his scalp. He met her searching gaze. “Not a word,” he declared emphatically. “I’m in command…uh…while Captain Marshall and Sergeant Fletcher are gone, of course. If I say it’s none of their business, they won’t ask me again.”
“Thank ye, Denny,” Madeleine said warmly. “I’ll be sure to mention yer kind cooperation to the captain.”
