Dangerous Masquerade: The Complete Collection

Prologue

“Maddie, wake up, wake up!” Glenis pleaded, rushing toward the bed as fast as her old bones would carry her. “‘Tis the redcoats, hinny, come to burn the house! Oh, God, protect us!”

“What are ye saying, Glenis?” Madeleine Fraser said drowsily, jarred from her sleep. Dazed, she sat up, her eyes adjusting to the faint light in her room. It was near dawn, and the murky gray world outside her window was blanketed in thick fog.

“Redcoats, Maddie, comin’ up the road!” Glenis exclaimed.

“Angus Ramsay just brought the news. He near scared the life from me, poundin’ on the kitchen door as he did.

He’s gone now to wake the villagers in Farraline.

” She tugged urgently at Madeleine’s arm.

“Hurry, ye must get dressed and flee before they get here. They’ll not want the likes of me, a wrinkled old woman, but ye’re young, lass, and as pretty as they come. Oh, hurry, Maddie, for yer own sake!”

Madeleine did not hesitate. Fully awake now, she threw back the coverlet and vaulted out of bed, wrenching her white nightdress over her head.

She shivered, her skin prickling with goosebumps.

The early morning air was still chill this time of year in the Highlands.

She brushed by her servant and ran across the room to the massive wardrobe.

She flung open one door and grabbed the first gown she touched, a plain frock of blue muslin.

She dressed quickly, donning first a chemise and linen drawers, but rejecting her stays.

There was no time. She took a brief moment to fasten a light woolen shawl around her shoulders, and then she was flying out the door with Glenis at her heels.

“Yer shoes, Maddie. What about yer shoes?” Glenis cried frantically. “Ye can hardly run barefoot into the mountains.”

“I winna need them,” Madeleine said over her shoulder. She crossed the carpeted hallway to the narrow side stairs near her room and took them two at a time, her hands braced against the whitewashed walls.

“What do ye mean, ye winna need them?” Glenis called shrilly from the top of the stairs.

Madeleine spun around and looked up at her terrified servant. Her deep azure eyes shone with fierce determination. “I’m not leaving my home, Glenis. The devils will have to burn Mhor Manor around me.”

“Maddie!”

Ignoring Glenis’s shocked expression and sputtered protests, Madeleine hurried through the drawing room to the main hallway. She could hear raised male voices growing louder and the nervous neighing of horses. With her heart hammering in her chest, she threw open the front door and stepped outside.

Raw fear cut through her and her knees felt suddenly weak. There were at least two hundred English soldiers advancing along the dirt drive toward the manor house, some marching, some on horseback. Many of them held smoking torches, the bright orange flames like beacons in the swirling fog.

“Courage, lass,” Madeleine whispered under her breath. “Dinna let the bastards see yer fear.”

She took a step forward, planting her feet on the damp flagstones leading to the drive.

She pretended not to hear the wolfish whistles and lewd remarks, and she overlooked the leering grins.

Her eyes were fixed on the silver-haired officer riding at the head of his men.

She guessed he was a colonel from the abundant gold lace which adorned his scarlet coat.

Clasping her hands tightly to keep them from shaking, she waited until he drew up on the reins and stopped just twenty feet from the house.

“I know why ye’ve come, and I ask ye to leave us in peace!

” she stated loudly, but her words were drowned out by the raucous din.

Quelling her apprehension, she tried once more, and again she was shouted down.

To her surprise, the commanding officer held up his hand, and the rowdy soldiers gradually fell silent.

Madeleine drew a deep breath, her gaze meeting his narrowed one.

“I know why ye’re here, colonel, and ‘tis a dirty business ye’re about,” she said in a clear, strong voice.

“I appeal to yer sense of decency and honor, as a gentleman. Spare my home, and the homes in the surrounding villages. Most of our men are gone.” She paused, swallowing against the sudden lump in her throat.

“We’re mainly women and children here. We canna fight ye, so we ask for yer mercy. ”

“Let me have at her,” a strapping soldier called out, laughing coarsely. “When I’m between her legs, she’ll not cry out for mercy. She’ll cry out for more!”

“Aye, and I’ll have her next!” another shouted eagerly, shoving his way to the front. “I’ve never had a wench so fine. Just look at ‘er, with that wild mane o’ chestnut curls and those ruby lips!”

Madeleine stepped back as the soldiers shook their torches threateningly. The air resounded with crude laughter and obscenities until the officer commanded their grudging silence once again.

The colonel studied her sharply, his expression grim. “I cannot do that, young lady. I have orders from the Duke of Cumberland that must be followed—”

“Orders!” she blurted, cutting him off. The mere mention of Butcher Cumberland filled her with rage she could barely control.

“We’ve already lost our cattle herds, our sheep and our goats, to yer duke’s orders, driven off for slaughter to feed the lot of ye English.

And our newly sown crops, our food for next winter,” she emphasized, “were ruined when the soldiers drove the animals over the fields. We’ve only our homes left to shelter us.

If ye burn us out, we’ll have nothing left! ”

“My orders are plain and cannot be altered,” the officer insisted, shaking his head. “Now, if you have servants in the house, you’d best see that they stand clear—”

“Surely ye have a good wife at home, sir,” Madeleine cried out desperately, trying another tack.

“Children of yer own, aye, and grandchildren!” Emboldened, she swept her defiant gaze around the tight line of soldiers.

“All of ye! Have ye not wives yerselves—sweethearts, children?

What if ‘twas yer loved ones in this miserable plight? Would ye not wish mercy to be shown?”

The hardened faces of the soldiers, faces that had grown immune to death and suffering, stared at her with little pity or remorse.

Fighting a wave of despair, Madeleine turned back to the colonel.

“Please, sir, I beg of ye. Dinna let yer men loose upon us.

If ye do, I swear ‘twill haunt ye to yer grave.”

The officer looked down for a long moment, his fingers worrying at the reins. When he glanced at her again, Madeleine breathed an inner sigh of relief at the flicker of compassion she saw in his eyes.

“Very well, young lady. Your home and those in the surrounding villages will be spared,” he said, ignoring his men’s disgruntled mutterings. “Though I cannot promise you another officer will do the same in the future.”

“Ye have my thanks, sir,” Madeleine said.

“You might wish to save your gratitude,” he replied cryptically. “There is one order I cannot change.” He turned abruptly in his saddle and addressed his soldiers. “Strip everything of value from the house!”

A great cheer went up from the soldiers, and the colonel had to shout above them. “Hear me well, lads. If any of you should take it in your heads to harm this lady or her servants, I’ll hang you this very day. Now get on with it. We have the entire valley to cover before sunset.”

“No!” Madeleine gasped in disbelief as the soldiers dropped their torches and rushed toward the house. Fighting and kicking, she was swept into the house by the human tide until a burly soldier plucked her to safety and deposited her in a dining room chair.

Madeleine tried to stand up, but the soldier held her firmly by the shoulders, forcing her to remain seated. All she could do was stare wide-eyed while the redcoats swarmed into the adjoining rooms and up the center flight of stairs, leaving a path of wanton destruction in their wake.

“No, keep yer filthy hands from that vase!” she heard Glenis scream from the drawing room. There was a crash of china, then a loud wail as the old woman was carried into the dining room and dumped unceremoniously in another chair. Glenis began to cry piteously.

Madeleine had no words of comfort to offer her.

She watched in impotent fury as her mother’s sterling silver was snatched from its cabinet, polished furniture was hacked to bits, portraits were slashed and gilt frames were carried off, rugs were soiled by muddy boot prints, and family heirlooms were stolen.

She remained silent through it all, unshed tears brimming in her eyes, while her captor’s callused fingers stroked her neck.

Ten minutes later the rampage was over. The soldier released her, but not before he pulled her head back roughly and kissed her full on the lips. His fetid breath made her gag, and she wrenched her mouth away.

“Devil!” she spat and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. He merely grinned at her, his laughter echoing in the hallway as he followed the last of his triumphant companions from the house.

Madeleine started when the colonel suddenly strode through the open door.

He glanced first in the drawing room, then where she and Glenis sat in the dining room, as if to ensure his orders had been carried out.

He did not meet her eyes. Then he was gone, his horse’s hooves pounding along the drive as he rode away.

She listened dully as the soldiers withdrew, the sound of their marching feet fading into the distance.

A hush like the silence in a tomb settled over the house. Madeleine could not find the strength to rise for a long time. She felt numb, but Glenis’s sobbing finally spurred her into action. She had to escape it or crumble herself.

She stood up and walked slowly into the entryway, stepping over bits of furniture and a smashed mantel clock, and shut the front door. Then she made her way in a daze to the drawing room.