A Hint of Rapture (5 page)

"Shhh, Glenis," Madeleine calmed her. "
'Twas not my thought that ye'd betray me, and nor will the others. We're bound
by a pledge of silence, sealed in blood. The people simply accept the food as
God's blessing and ask no questions. They would never betray our cause. I
believe that with all my heart."

"Och, very well, lass," Glenis said, loudly
blowing her nose several times. "Ye'll hear no more from me. But if ye
dinna mind, I'll keep ye doubly in my prayers, just for good measure."

Madeleine laughed, planting a kiss on Glenis's damp
cheek. She glanced across the kitchen at the massive fireplace with its raised
hearth, where a large black kettle hung above the peat fire. Steam rose from
the bubbling contents, and a delicious aroma wafted through the room.
"What's in the pot?" she asked, her stomach growling hungrily.

"Cock-a-leekie stew," Glenis replied, her
brown eyes twinkling again, her plucky spirit revived. "Yer favorite. I
had a notion ye'd be ridin' out tonight, and I'll not have ye goin' on yer way
without a good hot meal in yer belly. There's smoked herring, too, and fresh
bannocks. I'll pack ye and yer men a hamper full for the journey. How long will
ye be gone, lass?"

"Two days."

Glenis opened her mouth to protest, but she quickly
shut it. "I hope ye'll have room for the apple pudding I baked ye," she
said instead.

Madeleine sat down at the kitchen table. "Aye,
Glenis, if ye think my figure winna be the worse for it," she replied
playfully.

Glenis ladled a hearty portion of stew into a bowl and
returned to the table. "Ye have nothing to fear on that score, lass. Ye're
as sleek and slim as a colt." She set the bowl before Madeleine. "Now
eat. I'll fetch ye some bannocks."

Madeleine savored the chunks of chicken and leeks in a
thick broth laced with herbs, the warm oatcakes spread with golden butter, and
the strong tea. Under Glenis's approving eye she finished every morsel,
including a slice of pudding topped with brandy sauce. She knew it would be
several days before she'd enjoy such a meal again.

But, God willing, if tonight's raid went as planned, she
and the villagers would have a rich beef stew simmering in their kettles before
the week was out.

Chapter 3

" 'Tis time to wake, Maddie," Angus Ramsay
whispered, shaking Madeleine's shoulder gently. "The moon is up."

Awakened so abruptly, Madeleine did not know where she
was for a moment. Gradually the mists of sleep faded from her mind, and reality
took its place. The pungent smell of pine, the soft lowing of cattle, and the
rushing sound of a nearby river further heightened her awareness.

Remembering suddenly, she sat up and rubbed her eyes.
They had made camp here this morning after their successful cattle raid. Now it
was dark and time to move on toward Farraline.

Madeleine twisted around and groped along the woolen
blanket. She found her black cap and set it atop her head, then stuffed her
thick chestnut braid down the high collar of her jacket. Lastly she scooped a
handful of peat ash from a pouch hanging at her belt and rubbed the soot on her
face and forehead.

"Are the others awake, Angus?" she asked,
accepting his hand as he helped her to her feet.

"Aye, we're ready to be off, lass," Angus
replied, nodding to the four men who were already astride their horses. "I
let ye sleep awhile longer," he added, almost apologetically. "Ye
looked so tired when we stopped this morn."

Madeleine smiled. "That was kind of ye, Angus. I'm
fine now." She swept up her blanket from the moss-covered ground,
ducking the fir branches that had served as a protective bower for her bed. She
walked to her mount and crammed the blanket into the leather saddlebag.

She stifled a groan as she lifted her foot to the
stirrup and threw a trousered leg over the horse. Her body was stiff and sore
from the long journey, though she would never have admitted it to her kinsmen.
No doubt they were just as uncomfortable. Driving cattle through the mountains
was not an easy task.

Madeleine waited patiently while Angus mounted his
horse, her eyes quickly growing accustomed to the darkness of the surrounding
forest.

She noted the burly silhouettes of Kenneth and Allan
Fraser, two russet-haired brothers who had fought at Culloden and had managed
to escape with their lives. They were fugitives who now made their home in a
remote cave on Beinn Bhuidhe, a mountain to the east of Farraline, but they had
chosen to risk capture and accompany her on her raids against the English.

The Fraser brothers were a tough pair. They were much
more inclined to shooting redcoats than stealing from them, yet they had,
obeyed her command that there would be no needless killing. She hoped she could
continue to hold their thirst for revenge in check. Stealing was one thing, but
cold-blooded murder was another.

Then there were Ewen Burke and his seventeen-year-old
son, Duncan. They were true clansmen—as was Angus Ramsay—though they did not
bear the Fraser surname. Clan Fraser was made up of many such men not related
by blood, descendants of those who had sworn their allegiance to successive
Lovat chieftains in exchange for a small parcel of rented farmland and the chief's
protection.

Ewen, Angus, and Duncan had stayed behind last
autumn—along with a small group of tenants from each village—to tend the cattle
herds when the Frasers of Strathherrick had marched to war. Now these three men
rode beside her, taking great pride in regaining a measure of what had been
stolen from their clan.

Madeleine gathered up the reins, breathing a swift
prayer of thanks for the five men who had so boldly taken up her cause. She
could never have accomplished so much without them.

"Kenneth, ride ahead and keep watch," she
directed, her voice low. "Until we reach Loch Mhor we'll be traveling a
bit closer to Wade's Road than I'd like. But there's no help for it if we want
to make Aberchalder Burn before dawn. Remember, if ye see anything suspicious,
give us fair warning."

"Aye, Maddie," Kenneth replied, flicking the
reins against his mount's neck. The spirited animal jerked forward, and horse
and rider disappeared into the dense pine forest. Only the swaying branches
marked their path.

"Allan, take the lead since ye know this land so
well. Duncan, Angus, ye take the rear. Ewen and I will keep the cattle moving
down the middle."

Without a word the men followed her orders explicitly.
It made no difference to them that she was a woman, and barely nineteen. As it
had been to her father, their loyalty to her was as natural to them as
breathing, and if they had had any question at all about her ability to wage
such a campaign against the redcoats, such doubts had long since vanished. She
had proved time and again through her courage, daring, and sound judgment that
she was born to lead.

The Highland cattle, with their shaggy, reddish-brown
coats and long, curved horns, plodded along the narrow drover's path, tied to one
another by a thick length of rope. Madeleine was still amazed by the smoothness
of last night's raid, in which they hadn't encountered a single English
soldier. The redcoats were most likely too comfortable lying next to their
fires to guard the cattle, she thought scornfully as she recalled the distant
orange glow of campfires at the mouth of Glen Doe near Wade's Road.

Tension gripped her body as a commotion at the front of
the line ground the procession to an abrupt halt. She dug her heels into the horse's
sides and raced along the winding path, Ewen not far behind her.

"Allan, what's going on? Why have we
stopped?" she hissed, suddenly spying Kenneth alongside him. Her heart
leaped in her throat. If Kenneth had ridden back to them so soon, that could only
mean trouble.

"There's redcoats up ahead, Maddie!" Kenneth
blurted out in a loud whisper before his brother could answer. "They're
camped just over the rise, less than a quarter mile from here."

"How many?" she asked tightly.

"Twenty-five, thirty. Most are bedded down near
the fire, but a few are standing guard around the camp."

Madeleine sucked in her breath. A small troop of
English soldiers right in their path. Damn! If there weren't so many of them,
she might consider a skirmish. But thirty soldiers to her band of six did not
make for good odds. Now they would have to cut farther east into the mountains,
causing a full day's delay because they wouldn't make it to Aberchalder Burn
before sunrise. A pox and the devil take them all!

"It looks as if we'll have to double back—"
she began resignedly, only to be cut off by Kenneth's excited voice.

"Before we do that, Maddie, I think ye should know
they have at least ten supply wagons loaded to the top with every manner of
stuff. Sacks of grain, crates of chickens and pigs. Why, if we could only make
off with two of those wagons we'd do well!"

"Did ye say ten, Kenneth?" she asked, her
thoughts taking a decidedly different turn.

"Aye. What do ye think?"

By now Angus and Duncan had joined their little group,
quickly learning the details. Madeleine carefully weighed the situation. Why
would so few soldiers require such a quantity of supplies? she wondered. They
were camped a good distance from Wade's Road on terrain that was easily
traversed by wagons, yet they couldn't be a regular supply train. Supply trains
never strayed from the road for fear of marauders like herself.

Perhaps they were raw recruits from Fort Augustus or
Ruthven Barracks, sent out on some sort of training exercise to better acquaint
themselves with the Highlands, she thought dryly. Spending a week or so away
from an established military post could warrant the need for a good stock of
supplies.

Well, whatever the reason, ten supply wagons was a
strong temptation. Yet a raid on the camp was a highly dangerous proposition.
She and her men were outnumbered by perhaps five to one.

Glenis's words of caution ripped through Madeleine's
mind, along with her own promise not to take any heedless chances. In this
instance it was best to seek the counsel of all involved, she decided.

"We have a choice to make," Madeleine said
evenly, looking from one somber face to the next. "We can either make our
way to Aberchalder Burn by another route, or we can take these cursed redcoats
by surprise and add a few well-loaded supply wagons to out bounty. What do ye
say?"

"I'm for raiding the bastards!" Allan spoke
up first, with Kenneth not long behind him.

"Aye, and me, too!"

Madeleine had expected as much from the hotheaded
Fraser brothers. They were always spoiling for a fight.

"What say ye, Angus?" she asked. Of all her
kinsmen, she trusted Angus Ramsay's opinion the most. He was steady and
cautious, and his thoughtful wisdom reminded her of her father.

"Given the number of soldiers, 'tis perilous at
best, Maddie. But we've seen worse scraps before. I think if 'tis well planned,
we have a good chance of capturing three wagons, but no more. With the cattle,
'twould be the most we could manage."

Madeleine nodded. "So ye'd support a raid then,
Angus?"

"Aye."

"How about ye, Ewen?"

"If Angus believes 'tis possible, then I'm with
ye."

"Duncan?"

"Aye, Maddie."

"Then it's decided," she said, smiling
faintly. "After this raid we'll have so much food we'll have earned a
week's rest." She leaned forward in her saddle, tense excitement bubbling
within her. She loved a good challenge. "Now, Kenneth, if ye'll tell us
the layout of the camp, we'll plan our next move."

***

Madeleine lay flat on her stomach with her elbows drawn
up beneath her chest, scarcely breathing. She gazed intently at the English
camp just ten yards away and down a slight decline, irritation gripping her.

Eyeing the blond officer seated by the fire with his
broad back to her, she thought, if that bastard doesn't settle in soon, we'll
have to abandon the raid.

A precious hour had passed since she and her kinsmen
had tethered the cattle and crept up on the camp. They could have completed
their business and been well on their way to Aberchalder Burn by now if not for
that captain. He was the only man left awake in the camp, other than the three
guards standing watch.

"Patience, lass," Angus whispered as if he
sensed her thoughts.

Madeleine glanced over her shoulder at him, somewhat
chagrined. He and Ewen Burke flanked her, their faces and hair also blackened
with peat ash, caps pulled down well over their heads, and dark brown kerchiefs
covering the lower halves of their faces.

They were waiting for her signal, as were Duncan and
the Fraser brothers, who were hiding near the three guards positioned at cross
angles about the camp. That signal could not come until that English officer
settled in for the night.

A snapping branch startled her, and she turned back to
the camp. The captain had risen to his feet and was walking around the
perimeter of the clearing. He seemed to be searching the darkness beyond the
glow of the fire, and they ducked their heads as he passed within ten feet of
them.

Madeleine held her breath, the moist ground cold
against her cheek. She waited, listening, until his footsteps moved away. When
she looked up he was back by the fire and shaking out a blanket, his face to
her.

Unwittingly she found herself thinking he was a very
handsome man. He was tall and powerfully built, his hair a burnished gold in
the firelight . . .

She bit her lip angrily. Fool! What was coming over
her? How could she consider an English soldier handsome? He was a murderer, a
beast. He might even be the man who had killed her father!

Madeleine kept that thought in her mind as she watched
the officer lie down on the ground, wrap himself in the blanket, and roll onto
his back. She decided grimly that it would become his death shroud if he made
even the slightest motion to rise.