Chapter 25 #2
“That’s exactly what I said, wench,” General Hawley spat.
He leaned forward, the chair creaking ominously under his weight.
“I’ll tell you this, Mistress Fraser. Your pardon has come as a total surprise to me, brought forward only within the last hour by Major Marshall here.
I would like nothing more than to see you hang, along with your Jacobite friends, but I am compelled to offer you a chance to redeem your miserable life.
” He sat back, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. “Upon certain conditions, of course.”
General Hawley’s words were slowly sinking into Madeleine’s brain. Garrett had brought a pardon from King George himself. She felt a tiny glimmer of hope flare within her, and she glanced at him, but he was staring at the rolled parchment in the general’s hand.
“What conditions?” she inquired, the timbre of her voice gaining strength. Aye, she would gladly agree to give up her raiding, she found herself thinking, if that was the condition. She would swear to it!
“Tell her, Major Marshall,” General Hawley demanded heatedly, “as it seems this is your personal quest as well. But pray keep it short.”
Madeleine slowly drew in her breath as Garrett took a few steps toward her.
“Madeleine, you must listen carefully,” he began, his familiar deep voice sending a shiver coursing through her. “You will only be pardoned from your crime of treason, and the sentence of death, if you agree to a certain proposal.”
She nodded her understanding.
“Get on with it, man, we haven’t got all afternoon!” General Hawley shouted impatiently. Suddenly he changed his mind. “Back off, major. I’ll tell the wench the choice she must make.”
Madeleine watched silently as Garrett’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, acquiescing to his commander.
“The conditions are these, Mistress Fraser,” General Hawley muttered, clutching the document. “To receive his majesty’s pardon, you must agree to marry Major Garrett Marshall, who shall then become the sole proprietor of the estate known as Mhor Manor in Strathherrick, Inverness-shire.”
Madeleine felt as if she had been struck. She had never expected this! Her mind reeled in a confusing dance of thoughts and racing emotions. She swallowed hard, her gaze meeting Garrett’s. “Marry an Englishman?” she asked incredulously.
The question came from her lips so suddenly she was barely aware she had said it. Yet it sprang from a part of her that was so ingrained she could not have responded otherwise, despite everything Angus had told her, despite the secret feelings she held so deeply within her.
Desperate wishes, vain hopes, and dreams were one thing.
Reality was quite another. There was only one answer, nurtured by hundreds of years of hatred and mistrust between neighboring peoples, reinforced all the more by the recent brutality she had witnessed, even if she knew Garrett had no part in it.
She looked down at her folded hands. “I canna marry Major Marshall,” she stated evenly, knowing she was choosing death. “I’ll not be a traitor to my people.”
“There. She has made her choice,” General Hawley said, a pleased expression on his fleshy face as he sat back in his chair. ‘The execution will forward as planned. “
“No!” Garrett shouted vehemently, striding to the table. “You have not given her the full conditions.” He glared at the judge. “You know the law. The prisoner must know every condition before the choice can be made.”
The judge turned to General Hawley and whispered to him almost apologetically. “The major is correct, general. A king’s pardon is not to be taken so lightly.” He nodded to Garrett. “You may continue, Major Marshall.”
Madeleine gasped as Garrett whirled around, his eyes blazing into her own.
“It’s not so simple, Madeleine,” he said, advancing on her. “There are other lives involved here besides your own, which the general has neglected to tell you. If you agree to marry me, you will not only save your life but your kinsmen’s as well.”
Her eyes widened, her mind spinning once again. Garrett’s voice was harsh, grating into her jumbled thoughts.
“You’ve always claimed to put your kin before yourself, Madeleine.
Will you let them die horribly—Angus, Ewen—knowing you have it in your power to spare their lives?
Marriage to an Englishman seems a small price to pay for those you hold so dear.
The estate may no longer be in your name, but you would be living there as before, with your kin around you—”
“That’s it, isn’t it, Garrett?” Madeleine accused him suddenly, jumping up from her chair.
She was shaking from the anger possessing her, shaking from the cruel realization ringing in her mind.
“Ye dinna care about me or my kinsmen. ‘Tis the land ye want, Mhor Manor, so ye threaten me with my kin as ye’ve done before to get what ye want. Do ye have lands in England, an estate of yer own?”
Garrett shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “I have nothing in England.”
“Aye, so I’m right, then!” Madeleine exclaimed. “Ye’re landless, and ye saw yer chance to grab something for yerself when ye discovered I was Black Jack, knowing my lands would be forfeit once I was tried for treason.”
“Madeleine,” Garrett began, only to be cut off as she rushed on, her voice becoming more shrill.
“Yet ye knew if ye dinna have me by yer side ye’d never be able to make a go of it among the Frasers of Strathherrick.
So ye went to London quick as ye could and acquired a pardon for me so ye could do just that!
” She drew a ragged breath. “Did ye bribe yer way to the king?
Obviously ye convinced him ‘twould be worth a pardon and a grant of land to have an Englishman living among the Highlanders. The better to spy on them, aye, Garrett? Keeping the peace for the Crown on yer ill-gotten estate?”
“Enough!” roared General Hawley, heaving his massive bulk up from his chair. “Stand away, Major Marshall!” As Garrett reluctantly obeyed him, the general pointed threateningly at Madeleine.
“State your choice, wench,” he ordered, his face bright red and sweating. “I’ll not listen to any more of your treasonous talk. Either wed the major or hang with your kin. Now choose!”
Madeleine’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her heart pounding furiously against her ribs.
Her gaze shifted from the general’s enraged face to Garrett.
His face was ashen despite his bronzed coloring, and his eyes bored into hers.
She heard her own voice as if from far away, answering the general, sealing her fate.
“I will wed Major Marshall, if only to spare my kin.”
She heard Garrett’s breath escape in a rush, saw the flicker of relief in his eyes. She had never felt such crushing bitterness in her life.
Aye, ye’ve won yer fine estate, she thought fiercely, and yer Highland bride. But ye’ll rue this day, Garrett. I swear it. Ye’ll rue this day.
“So be it,” the judge proclaimed, rising to stand beside General Hawley. The sheriff quickly followed his lead. “The prisoner has accepted his majesty’s benevolent pardon. The sentence of death upon Mistress Madeleine Fraser and her four kinsmen is hereby revoked.”
“Four kinsmen?” Garrett queried, glancing at Madeleine. She ignored him, staring stonily at the general.
“One of the bastards saw fit to expire on the way to Edinburgh,” General Hawley answered for her.
“There is some justice.” He turned to the sheriff.
“Accompany the major and his lovely bride-to-be” —he spat distastefully, appraising her dirty feet and bedraggled appearance— “to Saint Margaret’s Chapel.
When they are properly wed, her four kinsmen may be released. ”
“Yes, sir,” the sheriff said, nodding briskly.
General Hawley leveled his hooded gaze upon Garrett.
“See that you’re on your way back to the Highlands by tomorrow morning, Major Marshall.
If I might remind you, you still have duties to fulfill in Strathherrick.
Your commission does not expire until next summer.
You will have a full company of my soldiers to assist you until you may summon your own men from Fort Augustus. ”
With a last surly glance at Madeleine, he stormed from the room, the judge close upon his heels. The door slammed shut behind them.
“Let’s go, major,” the sheriff said, waving to the guards. They immediately surrounded Madeleine.
“That will not be necessary, sheriff,” Garrett said grimly. “Mistress Fraser will not try to escape.” He glared at the nearest guard, who quickly moved aside, then he reached out and took Madeleine’s arm.
“Dinna touch me!” Madeleine blurted in a vehement whisper, jerking her arm away. “I’ll walk with the guards, if ye dinna mind. They’re far better company.” She heard Garrett sigh heavily, but he gave no reply as he stepped back.
Madeleine walked from the room surrounded by her silent escort. She could sense Garrett’s gaze on her as they stepped out into the courtyard, could feel it searing into her all the way to the stone chapel.
She entered the dim interior, knowing that when she next saw the light of day she would be wife to an Englishman, wife to Major Garrett Marshall. Her life had been spared, yet it would never, never be the same.