Meg shook her head. “Not a butter churn, not a spinning wheel, not even a pot. There’s even been talk of setting a torch to the wagons. ‘Twould make a fine ceilidh fire, dinna ye think?”
“Aye,” Madeleine said quietly, though deep down she wasn’t sure if she truly agreed.
Why did she feel so guilty at this latest bit of news? she wondered, tucking in the blanket. She should be elated her kin had heeded her warning about Garrett, yet she wasn’t.
Instead her emotions were becoming increasingly confused, as if half of her wanted things one way while the other half yearned for something else, something she was afraid even to dwell upon. Frustrated by her thoughts, she tossed two down pillows onto the bed and plumped them vigorously.
She had been so busy she hadn’t gone into Farraline yet to see for herself how Garrett was faring, though it made no difference. Kitty and Meg had kept her up on what was happening in the village, especially since Garrett’s soldiers had arrived at Mhor Manor over a week ago.
The Frasers of Farraline had confounded Garrett’s every effort to gain their favor. They’d even loosed the cattle he’d given them out onto the moor. Garrett and his men had spent a full day searching for the beasts and corralling them at the estate, his plan thwarted again.
No doubt that was why he’d grown so moody and sullen, she thought, pulling the down coverlet over the freshly made bed. Garrett had said little last night when he and his exhausted soldiers had returned for supper, and later she had felt a palpable desperation in his caresses, almost like anger. His fierce passion had left her wholly breathless and spent, and feeling even more guilty than before.
Madeleine sighed heavily. If today went much as she imagined, she could probably expect the same from him this evening. Yet why did it bother her so, like a twisting pain in her heart? He was a spy. He deserved such treatment, didn’t he?
“There now, Meg,” she said, forcing her mind from such troubling questions. She tucked the coverlet between the mattress and the carved headboard. “We’ve done a fine job in here.”
She stood up, her gaze sweeping the immaculate guest room from the scrubbed floors and clean woolen rugs to the dusted furniture. She had saved the two upstairs guest rooms for last, seeing to the rest of the house first. After this morning’s work, everything was finally in order. No trace remained of Hawley’s unwelcome visit.
Even the ruined furnishings and shattered windows had been replaced, Madeleine mused, raising another window to further air out the room.
Garrett had wasted no time in sending several of his men to Inverness with a long list of things to buy. They had returned with more wagons carrying a mahogany dining table, armchairs, a china cabinet, a gleaming silver service, bottles of fine brandy, a mantel clock, and many other items too numerous to contemplate. It was hard for her to admit, but Garrett had made Mhor Manor feel like a real home again.
“Are ye ready for some lunch, Maddie?” Meg asked, startling her from her reverie. “I know I am.” The maidservant giggled when her stomach growled loudly, but she didn’t seem embarrassed in the least. “Kitty said she was preparing a steak and game pie for us and apple fool for dessert.”
“Aye, I suppose,” Madeleine said. She smiled weakly, though not at the thought of Kitty’s cooking.
Kitty possessed quite a flair in the kitchen, surprising in one so young. Then again, her mother was a renowned cook and had obviously taught her daughter well. Kitty had gone out of her way to prepare tempting meals since she’d taken over the kitchen. Yet Kitty’s recent efforts had been lost on Madeleine. She hadn’t had much of an appetite lately. She knew she wasn’t pregnant. Her monthly flow had come while she was in prison. And it was much too soon yet to feel any ill effects if she had been with child. At the rate she and Garrett were going, however, she would be pregnant in no time at all!
A bairn. She flushed warmly at the unsettling notion. If it happened, they would become a family, with a new life between them. It struck her that she would not love their child any less, despite what she thought about its father.
Och, ‘tis exhaustion ye suffer, she told herself, following Meg from the room. She had been working very hard. Perhaps now that she had finished the bulk of the cleaning, she could afford some extra rest. Madeleine paused briefly to pick up a small embroidered pillow that the maidservant had unknowingly knocked from a chair near the foot of the bed. She straightened, almost collapsing to the floor as a sudden wave of dizziness gripped her.
“Meg,” she called weakly, hanging on desperately to the chair.
“What’s wrong?” Meg cried, rushing back into the room. She took one look at Madeleine’s ashen pallor and immediately helped her sit down. “Och, ye’re ill, Maddie. What can I bring ye? What should I do?”
Madeleine waved away Meg’s frantic barrage of questions, feeling her sense of equilibrium gradually returning. “I’m fine,” she insisted, though she could tell by Meg’s worried expression that her young kinswoman was not convinced. “I’ll just sit here for a moment. I’m sure the faintness will soon pass. Do ye think ye might fetch me a glass of water?”
“Ye’ve been working far too hard, Maddie,” Meg chided, wringing her apron. “I hope ye’re not coming down with a sickness from pushing yerself so. Now dinna move from the chair, ye hear? I’ll be right back.”
Madeleine leaned her head back and closed her eyes as Meg bustled from the room. She forced herself to breathe slowly and steadily, despite the rapid beating of her heart. She licked her lips, hoping Meg was hurrying back with her water.
At last she heard footsteps in the hall, though they sounded oddly different than Meg’s. She shrugged, thinking perhaps she only imagined it. She opened her eyes, gasping when Glenis suddenly walked through the door.
“Glenis! What are ye doing here?”
“I came for a wee visit,” the old woman stated matter-of-factly. “I only got here a few minutes ago. I was on my way up from the kitchen when I ran into Meg. She says ye’re not feelin’ well.” She pulled up a stool beside Madeleine’s chair and sat down. “Here’s yer water, lass, but dinna take more than a sip at a time.”
Madeleine gaped at Glenis, so stunned she couldn’t speak. The glass shook in her hand, water sloshing through her fingers and into her lap. She barely noticed when Glenis took the glass and held it to her lips.
“Drink, Maddie,” she commanded briskly, smiling faintly when Madeleine did as she bade her. “Kitty tells me ye’ve been pickin’ at yer food like a bird, despite her fine cooking,” she continued. “‘Tisn’t like ye, Maddie. Ye’ve ne’er lacked for a good appetite. Then Meg rushes in, sayin’ ye look as white as a sheet and that ye’re feelin’ faint.” She paused, sighing. “What’s ailin’ ye, lass? Is there a chance ye’re carryin’ a bairn?”
“No, I dinna think so,” Madeleine replied, pushing away the half-empty glass. “Not yet, anyway.” At Glenis’s shrewd look, she added uncomfortably, “I’m tired, that’s all.”
“Aye, ye’ve done wonders with the house,” Glenis remarked, glancing around the room. She turned back to Madeleine, studying her face. “What’s truly ailin’ ye, Maddie? A heartache, perhaps? Tell yer Glenis.”
“Ye’re not my Glenis!” Madeleine snapped indignantly, her light-headedness swept away by Glenis’s words. “Not anymore! Surely ye must know I’ve long since heard of yer deceit from Major Marshall.”
