Chapter 1 #2
It had been the countess’s right to bequeath her own property to whomever she wished. She had chosen her favorite younger son, forever sealing Gordon’s deep-seated resentment of Garrett and fueling his determination to claim Garrett’s inheritance, using whatever means he could.
It wasn’t enough that Gordon possessed all of their father’s holdings, including the entailed family estate, Kemsley Grove, and the stately town house in London’s most fashionable neighborhood.
It wasn’t enough that he had married the woman Garrett had long courted, Lady Celinda Gray.
Gordon’s greed to possess Rosemoor, the richest estate in Sussex, knew no bounds.
However, Garrett was equally determined to thwart him.
Only their family honor had compelled him to fulfill his military commitment, not fear of his brother.
Next time the matter would be settled in a duel, and honor be damned.
He would suffer no more of Gordon’s vengeful schemes or any further disruption of his life.
At least he was well over Celinda’s slight by now, Garrett thought dryly. He wished he could say the same for his three-year commission.
He still had another year of service remaining before he could be free of this wretched army.
After what he had seen during the past few months under the Duke of Cumberland, beginning with the massacre at Culloden in which he had refused to play any part, and followed by the ruthless persecution of the Highlanders, he had more than his fill of butchery!
Colonel Wolfe’s gravelly voice broke into Garrett’s thoughts. “I know you’re wondering what’s afoot, Garrett, and I’ll get right to the point. First I must apologize for betraying a confidence, but in this case I felt it necessary and justified.”
Garrett merely nodded and sat down, tossing his hat upon the table.
“I received a dispatch less than an hour ago. Another of our supply wagons bound for the fort along General Wade’s Road has been plundered, the third in two weeks,” Colonel Wolfe continued.
“Hawley’s damn upset about it, especially since this load was carrying not only grain, but also some casks of wine he had ordered from London.
The thought of this Black Jack fellow, a Jacobite sympathizer, swilling his vintage wine doesn’t set well with him in the least.”
“Who is Black Jack?” Garrett asked, his interest piqued by the unusual nickname.
Colonel Wolfe snorted derisively. “That’s what the soldiers call the leader of the renegade band of thieves, because the scoundrel always appears in black clothing, with his face blackened to disguise his features.
He hides well in the shadows while his men do the stealing, and he never says a word, although he always keeps two pistols cocked and ready.
His men work swiftly, usually tying up the soldiers and throwing their weapons into Loch Ness or taking them along. ”
“Loch Ness? Have most of the raids been along Wade’s Road?”
“Yes, those involving supply wagons. But ships docked along Inverness Firth have apparently also lost cargo to this thief, and cattle have been stolen up and down Glenmore as far south as Loch Lochy.”
Garrett’s expression grew thoughtful. “Have any soldiers been killed during these raids?”
“Surprisingly, no. A few men have been wounded, but nothing serious. It seems Black Jack’s only interest is theft. As soon as he’s stolen what he wants, he and his men disappear into the night.”
“An interesting story, colonel, but what has this to do with me?” Garrett asked.
Colonel Wolfe leaned his elbows on the table and lowered his voice.
“You and I are of like mind, Garrett. During the past three months we have seen a great deal of bloodshed, and much of it has been irrational, cruel, and against all sense of fair play. Culloden was proof of that, and now Cumberland’s policy of harrying the glens… ”
His voice trailed off, and he shook his head gravely.
“There has been enough slaughter of innocents. I simply cannot sit by and watch it begin anew. When Hawley got the dispatch this morning, his first impulse was to send my entire regiment to Strathherrick, beside Loch Ness, since all evidence points to that valley as Black Jack’s main territory. ”
“Where you would carry out his normal policy in matters concerning the Highlanders,” Garrett said quietly. “Torture, maim, rape, burn, and then ask questions.”
“Right. Instead I took a chance and suggested a more peaceful method of capturing this brigand. Amazingly Hawley agreed to hear me out, probably due to the recent outrage expressed by clans loyal to King George about the atrocities committed against the defeated Highlanders.”
“It certainly wouldn’t do to have those powerful clans join their Jacobite cousins against the excessive ravages of the English,” Garrett commented.
“Indeed not. Now, it’s my guess that Black Jack is carrying out these raids to provide food for that region,” Colonel Wolfe continued. “Opened sacks of the king’s grain were found in a cave near the loch, and villagers have been found with good supplies of salted meat in their cellars.”
“Not likely for an area that lost its cattle and crops to Cumberland’s more aggressive troops.”
“Exactly. I told Hawley if a large force of armed soldiers descended upon Strathherrick, Black Jack and his men would take to the mountains and never come down from hiding. We already know how well these people guard their secrets, despite the threat of death. Prince Charles has managed to remain on the run for three months, eluding thousands of our troops. It would be the same for Black Jack.”
“So instead I’m supposed to take a third of my men and attempt to discover the whereabouts of the elusive Black Jack by living among the Highlanders of Strathherrick as an occupying yet peaceful force.”
Colonel Wolfe nodded. “With your insight into Highland ways, the task may be easier than you think.” He smiled broadly.
“If I were a younger man, I’d relish the assignment.
Your prowess with the ladies is renowned, Garrett.
You’re as much of a gentleman to the doxies who follow our troops as to the elegant damsels we’ve met in the cities.
You’ve charmed them all. Perhaps you may find a willing Highland lass or two to aid you in your quest. Who knows what secrets might be betrayed at the height of passion? ”
Garrett laughed. He was not convinced that a pretty Highland wench would so willingly hop into bed with an English soldier, but the thought intrigued him nonetheless.
“I would suggest you and your men billet in a village, or perhaps in one of the few manor houses still left standing,” Colonel Wolfe said. “I’ve heard of a place that might be large enough for all of you. Hmmm, what was the name of that village?”
He paused, rapping his knuckles absently on the table. “Ah, yes, now I remember. It’s near Farraline, I believe. The owner may not take kindly to the inconvenience, but at least it’s better than finding his home burned to the ground.” He stood up. “Any more questions, captain?”
“One,” Garrett replied. “How long do I have to find this Black Jack and bring him to the king’s justice?”
Colonel Wolfe sobered, his features darkening. “Hawley is an impatient man, Garrett. If our plan proves unsuccessful, he’ll carry out his threat.”
“Just as I thought,” Garrett said, rising from his chair and following the colonel from the room.