Chapter 10 #2
Madeleine sensed her kinsmen’s eagerness as they gathered close around her, waiting for her command. It matched her own.
“We’ll ride to Wade’s Road, as we planned, and settle in at the pine grove near Inverfarigaig,” she said quietly. “Ye’ll wait for my signal. If ‘tis safe, we’ll take the first supply train that comes along. Any questions?’
There were none.
“All right, then. We’ve had a week’s rest and a few unwelcome surprises” —she paused, deciding not to mention Garrett’s name— “since last we rode together. But we’ll not think of that now. We’ll think only of the villagers who need fresh meat for their cooking pots.”
They quickly mounted their horses and broke into a gallop along the narrow road to Inverfarigaig. As they passed the ancient yew tree, Madeleine veered her mount toward it. She reached up and yanked off a fresh sprig, sticking it into the pocket of her jacket.
Aye, now she was well protected. She caught up with her kinsmen and passed them, swiftly taking the lead.
Garrett lay staring at the ceiling, his head resting in his hands. It was the second night in a row he couldn’t sleep.
He exhaled slowly. If this kept up, he’d be sleeping during the day when he was supposed to be about his mission, which might not even matter.
After the miserable day he’d had, he was no closer to discovering anything about Black Jack than if he and his men hadn’t gone out at all.
The Highlanders of Strathherrick were as tight-lipped as they came when they were protecting one of their own.
He rolled over and reached for the gold pocket watch lying atop the bedside table. He held it up and squinted at it in the faint moonlight.
Damn! It was half past three already. He’d finished writing in his military journal and had gone to bed near midnight.
He had spent almost four useless hours tossing and turning, all the while wondering how he was going to accomplish his mission and if he would ever hold Madeleine in his arms again.
Garrett threw the watch onto the table in disgust and leaned on his elbow. Well, he had a few choices. He could either remain here in bed and chase sleep for another hour, or he could perhaps get something to eat from Glenis’s kitchen. He hoped she wouldn’t mind his intrusion too much.
Or maybe he could take a walk outside, he thought. Some fresh air and exercise might help clear his mind and perhaps even make him drowsy.
He made a quick decision and flung back the covers. It took him only a moment to dress, then he was out the door and walking quietly down the dark hallway.
Suddenly he stopped and turned around slowly. Good God, what was possessing him? He walked back past his room and toward the other end of the hallway…toward Madeleine’s room.
His hand touched the latch. He told himself he merely wanted to see that she was well. Yet he knew it was more than that.
He had the strongest desire to gaze on her beauty while she slept. He hadn’t seen her since the afternoon at the loch, and he felt as if he were starving for a glimpse of her.
Garrett stepped into her room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
It had flashed through his mind that she might awaken and take unkindly to his presence in her bedchamber.
And she was armed, he thought dryly. He had seen to that.
Better to leave the door open, in case he needed to exit quickly to escape her dirk.
He moved stealthily toward the bed as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could see a slender form outlined beneath the coverlet. He forced himself to breathe slowly and steadily, although his heart was pounding. He reached out and touched his fingers lightly on the folded edge of the coverlet.
A strong gust of wind suddenly blew into the room from the open window, billowing the long gauze curtains.
They flapped and twisted in the breeze, and Garrett backed away, fearing she would wake and find him there.
He glanced at the bed regretfully and quickly left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
He did not notice that he had failed to secure the latch, and the door slipped open again.
Somewhat shaken, he strode down the hallway to the main staircase.
Obviously he would have to wait until tomorrow to see her again, which was probably just as well.
If she had found him in her room, her curses would no doubt have awakened the entire household.
Her language seemed to become inspired whenever she saw him.
Garrett hurried down the steps, his eyes narrowing angrily.
Heaven help him, were his men becoming as careless and undisciplined as they seemed? The guard was sleeping so soundly, with his chair tilted against the wall and his mouth gaping open, that he didn’t even hear Garrett’s approach.
Garrett kicked one of the chair legs as he walked by, and the chair fell forward. The soldier sprawled onto the floor, groaning and mumbling incoherently.
“Is this how you hold your position, man?” Garrett asked, his expression hard. He slid the knife from his belt, bent over the gaping soldier and grabbed him by the hair. He rested the sharp blade under the man’s right ear.
“Don’t you realize a Highlander could sneak in without a moment’s warning and slit your sorry throat?” He traced the cold tip along the soldier’s neck from ear to ear to drive home his message. The man was so terrified he couldn’t speak. He only nodded, swallowing furiously.
“Get up,” Garrett said sternly, withdrawing his knife and sheathing it. The soldier jumped to his feet, swaying slightly. It was obvious his knees were shaking. “I’m going out for a walk. See that you’re awake when I get back.”
“Y-yes, sir. Yes, sir!”
Garrett opened the door and strode outside. The three soldiers patrolling the drive stopped and snapped to attention. He was glad to see at least they had not deserted their posts.
“Good evening, Captain Marshall…er…I mean good morning,” one of the soldiers offered.
Garrett acknowledged the greeting with a short nod. “I take it everything has been quiet tonight.”
“Yes, captain.”
“Good. Carry on.” He walked away from them, aware that they were wondering what he was doing up so early in the morning. He shrugged it off. It was good to keep them on their toes.
He hiked down the drive and onto the road to Farraline for a good distance, then doubled back the other way. He knew he’d made the right choice. The cool night air was working like a tonic on his senses, drawing everything into sharp focus and clearing his mind.
Garrett stopped and stared up at the black sky, sprinkled with thousands of winking stars. The moon hung like a pale white crescent just over the mountains.
His gaze fell on the great, hulking shadows soaring directly in front of him. Somewhere in those craggy hills and hollows dwelled the man he was seeking, he was sure of it.
“Where are you, Black Jack?” Garrett said softly, his words lost on the sighing breeze. “Dammit, where are you?”
He turned and began to walk in a wide arc around the manor house, his boots sinking into the spongy moor.
The fir trees were thick here, tall, ancient trees that had withstood many a Highland winter.
He rambled on, content to be outside amid such rugged beauty.
He drew in great breaths of the bracing air, slapping his arms vigorously. Perhaps he should have worn his coat—
“What the devil?” he exclaimed suddenly, crouching on his haunches. Had he just imagined it…or was someone creeping across the moor?
Garrett held himself completely still with his senses alert and his body poised for action. He watched and listened.
Yes, there it was again! His keen eyes followed a lone figure who was stealing like a silent cat across a stretch of barren moor. Then the shadowy form disappeared into a copse of fir trees, the branches swallowing him up and covering his flight.
Garrett could not believe it.
A black-clad figure in the dark night. Could it possibly be…?
He didn’t dare to hope. There was no time for thought, only action. He sprinted toward the trees, his heart racing, his eyes searching for any sign of movement.
Garrett fell to the ground as the figure darted out again only thirty feet away from him. His fingers groped for his knife, and he pulled it out, clutching it in one hand. He jumped up and bolted after the fleeing form.
Garrett cursed under his breath as the figure dashed into another copse of trees just ahead of him, no more than ten feet away. He did not slow down. He was so close, and he had to catch the bastard!
His lungs were on fire and his thighs were pumping hard, but his footfalls made little sound. He headed straight for the trees, knocking the branches out of the way as he plunged into the wooded grove. The figure was only an arm’s length away now.
Garrett reached out and lunged, catching a handful of thick fabric. He yanked hard, and the figure fell in front of him, tripping him.
Garrett lurched forward, the momentum of his body toppling him over and over as he rolled on the ground. He hit the tree trunk so hard it knocked the breath from his body. He lay there on his stomach, stunned, his mouth full of dirt.
Then he felt a heavy branch striking him on the side of the head. He yelled out in pain, saw blinding streaks of light bursting in front of his eyes, then nothing…
Madeleine dropped the branch and stepped back, her chest heaving furiously. She massaged her aching shoulder, which she had bruised in her fall.
Damn, just when everything had gone so smoothly, this had to happen. The soldier’s cry still rang in her ears, still echoed about the fir grove. She had to get out of there fast, in case any guards had also heard his cry.
She didn’t bother to turn the soldier over to see if he was still breathing. There was no time, and she would discover soon enough if he lived or died.