A Hint of Rapture (24 page)

"Forgive me, lassie, for this intrusion," the
woman wheezed in a gruff voice. "Could ye spare a cup of hot tea and a
slice of bread for a weary traveler?"

Madeleine hesitated only an instant. She drew open the
door, studying her unexpected visitor in the flood of light. "Aye, of
course," she said graciously. "Come in."

From what little Madeleine could see of the woman's
face, she had never seen her before, and she doubted her visitor was from the
valley. If she was a fugitive, Maddie had never seen a more unlikely one. Yet she
could not deny this woman her hospitality. It was an unwritten code among the
Highlanders that strangers were always made welcome. Except for redcoats, she
amended dryly.

"Thank ye," the woman said, glancing
furtively over her shoulder before entering the kitchen. As Madeleine closed
the door behind her, she shuffled to the table and immediately sat down,
heaving a loud groan of relief. The chair creaked ominously under the woman's
weight.

Madeleine stifled her reaction, but she could not help
noticing her visitor was amazingly stout, her hunched shoulders broad and
rounded beneath a threadbare shawl. The woman was wearing a gray fustian gown
that seemed to lack a clear waistline, appearing almost sacklike in its loose
proportion. From beneath the ragged hem peeked dusty black boots, the largest
pair Madeleine had ever seen on anyone, let alone a woman.

Madeleine chided herself for staring and quickly
fetched a steaming mug of tea. She cut a thick slice of fresh-baked bread and
slathered it with butter, then set the plate in front of the old woman.

"Is there anything else ye'd like?" she
asked. She nodded toward the black kettle hanging above the hearth. "My
cook, Glenis, always has a good pot of stew at the read "

"Aye, 'twould be lovely," the woman said between
slurps of tea, without lifting her head.

Madeleine brought a brimming bowl to the table along
with more bread. She refilled the woman's mug, not surprised to see her
hungrily devour the stew, soaking up every last drop with the breadcrusts.
Madeleine was beginning to believe this woman was indeed a fugitive. It was
clear she hadn't eaten a good meal in days.

After three bowls of stew, a pot of tea, and nearly a
loaf of bread, the woman's ravenous appetite was sated. She pushed back from
the table and raised her head ever so slightly.

"Sit with me, lass, for a wee bit," she
croaked in a husky tone that was more a command than a request.

Madeleine sat down across the table, eyeing the old
woman's broad features in the candlelight. A bulbous nose, massive jowls, a fat
double chin. She had the strangest feeling she had seen her somewhere before.

"Ye recognize me, dinna ye, Maddie Fraser?"

Madeleine gasped at the decidedly male voice, her eyes
widening in surprise. "God's wounds, could it be?"

Low, rumbling laughter erupted from her visitor at her
astonished statement, a distinctive chuckle Madeleine had not heard in more
than a year. Not since the red grouse hunt early last summer. Her father had
hosted the event for his tacksmen and his guest of honor, Lord Lovat, the chief
of Clan Fraser.

She leaned forward in her chair, staring incredulously
at the grinning old man. It was Simon Fraser himself, a hunted fugitive since
Culloden, disguised as a woman. And the place was swarming with redcoats!

What could Lord Lovat be thinking? Didn't he realize
his danger? Hadn't he seen the guards posted along the drive? Hadn't he seen
the soldiers through the windows, bunked in the dancing room and the guest
rooms? She tried to speak, but her throat was constricted so tightly no words
came.

"Calm yerself, lassie," Simon Fraser said
softly, sobering at her obvious distress. "I've seen the redcoats, if
that's what ye're wondering. And they dinna see me. If they had, they wouldna
care two whits about an old woman calling at the house. I'm not worried, nor
should ye be. Believe me, there's fewer redcoats in Mhor Manor than out on the
roads tonight scouring the mountains. 'Tis safer by far."

When she continued to gape at him, he sighed and patted
her hand. " 'Tis why I'm here, Maddie. I long for nothing more than a good
night's rest in a warm bed. Ye've already seen to the fine meal. My old bones
grow weary from this chase. 'Tis mad I suppose, but the lights in yer house
looked so inviting from Beinn Bhuidhe, despite yer English guests. I couldna
help m'self."

"Ye've been hiding on Beinn Bhuidhe?"
Madeleine asked, finding her voice at last.

"Aye, for a week now. I was in Badenoch for quite
a while, staying here and there, and before that Glen Cannich to the north . .
." His voice trailed off, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion.
"Och, Maddie, 'tis a long story, and I've no heart for it tonight. 'Tis my
plan to set out for the west Highlands before dawn. Loch Morar. I've friends
there who'll help me. 'Tis my hope to find a ship to France."

"France?"

"Aye. 'Tis the safest plan. My lands are lost to
me, my castle burned to the ground. I canna hide there. And my kinsmen risk
much to shelter me, even disguised as I am." He forced a weak smile.
"I know 'tis a dangerous thing to ask ye, Maddie, but if I could stay here
only one night, I'll be off before the sun rises in the morn—"

"Of course ye must stay!" Madeleine whispered
vehemently. "Dinna think to ask me again, m'lord. I'd be insulted if ye
did. The chief of Clan Fraser is always welcome in my home, redcoats or no. I'm
honored ye chose to entrust me with yer care."

"Ye're a brave lass, Maddie, and I thank ye. Ye do
the memory of yer father proud, God rest him."

Madeleine felt a sudden lump in her throat, but she
forced herself to think of the task at hand. She rose and swiftly cleared the
table. The sooner Lord Lovat was settled somewhere in the house, away from
prying eyes, the better. But where?

He couldn't sleep in Glenis's room, she decided,
dumping the dishes into the washpan. It wasn't safe enough. There was no lock
on the door, and Garrett and his soldiers were forever passing through the
kitchen, sometimes even waking Glenis to ask for this or that. It would not do
if they found Lord Lovat instead, despite his disguise.

Nor could he sleep upstairs, she thought, walking back
to the table. If Garrett heard any noise coming from the two empty guest rooms
across the hall from his own chamber, he would surely become suspicious. Lord
Lovat's masquerade was well played, but it might not hold up under close
scrutiny or a barrage of questions. No, she would have to think of something
else.

She was struck by an idea, farfetched, yet she sensed
it might work. Perhaps Lord Lovat could sleep upstairs in her room. No one
would bother him there, especially if the door was bolted. Garrett believed she
had already gone to bed for the night. Meanwhile, she could hide quietly in one
of the guest rooms and wait for the dawn . . .

She was so lost in her thoughts that she jumped when Glenis
walked abruptly into the kitchen, while Simon gasped at the footsteps behind
him. He ducked his head so the bonnet hid his face, and he clutched his shawl
tightly.

Madeleine rushed over to her stunned servant's side,
her finger to her lips, her eyes flashing caution. " 'Tis all right,
m'lord," she said reassuringly over her shoulder. " 'Tis only
Glenis."

"M'lord?" Glenis said, her dark eyes widening
at the stout female figure hunched in the chair. She glanced questioningly at
Madeleine. "M'lord?"

"Aye. Ye mustna breathe a word of this to anyone,
Glenis. 'Tis Simon Fraser, our Lord Lovat."

At Madeleine's words, Simon twisted around and gave
Glenis a wink. " 'Tis good to see ye again, Glenis darlin'. "

"God protect us!" Glenis blurted, blanching
white as a sheet. She rolled her eyes heavenward, looking as if she might
faint. Madeleine grabbed her arm and gave her a good shake.

"Shhh, Glenis, keep yer wits about ye," she
demanded. "We dinna have time for any hysterics. I need yer help. We've
got to get Lord Lovat upstairs and into my room without anyone seeing him.
He'll be staying at Mhor Manor tonight."

"Yer room?" Glenis asked, totally confused.

"Aye. I'll explain later. Listen to me, Glenis. Go
into the drawing room and break something. Anything. That should lure the guard
away from his post. We'll need only an instant to sneak up the stairs. Now
go!"

With a last wide-eyed glance at Simon, Glenis bobbed
her head and fled the kitchen as fast as her stiff legs would carry her. A few
moments later there was a crash of breaking china.

Madeleine wasted no time. She looped her arm through
Simon's, and together they hurried into the main hallway. The guard was on his
knees in the drawing room, his back to them while he helped Glenis retrieve
shards of a shattered plate.

Madeleine assisted Simon up the stairs, hoping Garrett
had not heard the clamor. She had a story brewing in her mind just in case. Her
great-aunt Morag had come for supper and was suddenly taken ill . . .

Fortunately it appeared she wouldn't have to use her
story. The hallway was dark and silent, no light shone from beneath Garrett's
door. Madeleine quietly led the way with Simon close behind her until they
reached her room. She fairly pushed him inside and bid him a hasty good night.

"I'll wake ye in the morning, m'lord, before
dawn," she whispered. "Bolt the door, mind ye, and dinna open it 'til
ye hear four short knocks. We'll have to trick the guard again, but 'tis no
matter. These redcoats are a dim-witted lot. Ye'll be safely on yer way before dawn."

"I thank ye, Maddie," he said. "Sleep
well."

The door closed with a small click, and she heard the
bolt slide into place. Satisfied, she turned and made her way back down the
hallway.

Sleep well, she thought wryly. She wouldn't sleep a
wink tonight. While the chieftain of Clan Fraser was under her roof, she was
charged with his protection.

Suddenly she stopped in her tracks. The raid! She
sighed resignedly. Och, there was nothing to be done about it now.

It seemed she had raided her last supply train. The
foodstuffs they had gathered in the cave would have to be enough. There was no
time to carry out any more raids after tonight, other than what she had planned
for the following evening. But then she would be alone.

At least her kinsmen would know to abandon the raid
when she failed to meet them at the yew tree, she thought as she continued down
the hallway. She had no doubt they would understand. It was her duty to guard
Lord Lovat with her life, as would any Fraser. She would do whatever was
necessary to ensure his safety.

Madeleine's hand was on the door latch to the guest
chamber when a loud thud sounded from her room, followed by a blustered oath.
She grimaced, scurrying back to her door.

"Lord Lovat, are ye all right?" she called
softly.

"Aye, lass. Just a bit clumsy is all. Dinna
worry."

Relieved, she leaned her head against the doorjamb. It
was going to be a long night. She pushed away from the door, stiffening as a
hand suddenly touched her shoulder, and her heart sank into her shoes.

Chapter 16

"Madeleine, what's going on?" Garrett asked,
his deep voice tinged with concern. "I was just coming up the stairs, and
I heard someone fall. Are you all right?"

Madeleine whirled around, gaping at the familiar
silhouette looming in the darkness. A quick lie jumped to her lips.

" 'Twas nothing, Garrett. I merely tripped on a
pair of brogues when I was leaving my room. 'Twas stupid of me, dropping them
in the middle of the floor like that." She bent down and rubbed her knee
convincingly, moaning a little. "Och, it hurts a bit, but I think I'll be
fine."

"Come with me," he said firmly. "We
should take a look at it in the light."

Before she could protest, he swept her into his arms
and strode down the hallway to his room. He leaned into the door, shoving it
open, and made straight for the bed, where he set her down gently.

Madeleine listened as he fumbled about the bedside
table for the flint and steel. At least he hadn't tried to carry her back into
her own room, she thought gratefully. She heard him strike the flint, and she
blinked as warm candlelight flooded the large room.

Garrett knelt in front of her, his eyes meeting her
startled gaze. "Could you lift your skirt for me, Madeleine?"

She nodded, her heart thumping fiercely against her
breast. As she raised her skirt slowly, a fiery blush burned her cheeks. She
draped the hem over the top of her legs and held it down modestly.

"Which knee is it?"

Madeleine gasped at the light pressure of his hand on
her ankle. "The—the left one," she stammered.

"Do you mind if I pull down your stocking?"
he asked gently.

She shook her head, mesmerized by the sight of his
hands slipping beneath the hem of her gown. She felt a sharp intake of breath
as his fingers barely grazed her thigh. He deftly slid the thin white stocking
down her leg.

"Here?" he inquired, tenderly touching her
knee. His smooth fingertips pushed and explored, around and around, tickling
her, though she tried hard not to show it. She feigned a wince of pain.

"Oooh, 'tis there," she said, pursing her
lips. She lifted her head to find him studying her, his attention no longer on
her knee. His penetrating gaze seemed to devour her, though his expression was
inscrutable.

She shivered, unable to tear her eyes away. He was
looking at her just as he had the other night!

The taunting memory of his lips at her breast leaped
into her mind. She flushed hotly and forced it away, shifting on the bed. Her
movement broke the spell, for Garrett looked down, caressing her left knee with
his thumbs.