Chapter 26 #2
“Oh, aye, they’re fine,” Clara answered, smiling as she combed out a glistening lock.
“They’ve nice rooms on the third floor, along with the soldiers.
Yer husband bought new clothes for them, too, m’lady.
He’s up there right now, seeing that they have everything they need.
” Her gaze met Madeleine’s in the mirror.
“If ye dinna mind me saying so, Lady Marshall, yer husband is a most generous man. He told my parents to spare no expense in making this a comfortable ev’ning for ye and yer kin. ”
Madeleine did not answer, her temper flaring anew. She was grateful her kinsmen were being well treated, but it irked her that Garrett was putting on such a grand show. For what? She was not fooled. It was all part of his plan.
If Garrett won some small modicum of her kinsmen’s favor, it would only make it that much easier for him to spy on them when they returned to Strathherrick.
Perhaps he was even telling them he possessed a bit of Scots blood to ease their minds and gain their trust. She couldn’t wait to inform them it was Sutherland blood, the traitorous clan that would sooner lick King Geordie’s boots than aid their Highland brothers in placing Stuart on Britain’s throne.
“There now, m’lady,” Clara said, sweeping Madeleine’s thick hair back from her forehead with the silver brush. She stepped away from the stool, surveying Madeleine’s image with obvious pleasure. “Ye look beautiful, m’lady, as ye should for yer wedding night.”
Madeleine started, twisting around on the stool. “Who told ye ‘twas my wedding night?” she blurted.
“Why, yer husband, m’lady,” Clara said, looking at her strangely.
Then a slow smile spread over her face. “Och, I know just what ye must be feeling, Lady Marshall,” she said with understanding.
“I was so nervous on my wedding night only a few months past that I locked my poor Jamie out of my room!” She blushed, giggling.
“‘Twas only later I discovered what fun I’d missed.” She sobered suddenly.
“Ye’re as white as a sheet, m’lady. Let me fetch ye some wine. ”
Madeleine caught her frilled sleeve, fighting her sense of light-headedness.
“No, I’m all right, Clara. I think I could use a bit of food, though.
” As if to emphasize her words, her stomach rumbled loudly.
She forced a smile to her lips. “Aye, perhaps some food and a glass of wine. For my nerves, as ye say.”
Clara held on to her arm as they walked into the sitting room, not letting go until Madeleine was seated comfortably at the table.
“Mama’s an excellent cook,” Clara said, lifting the silver lids one by one.
Aromatic steam wafted up from the white, oval plates, making Madeleine’s mouth water.
“Ye’ll feel better in no time once ye taste some of her rabbit pie and thyme-roasted chicken.
‘Tis the best in Edinburgh town, I’d swear. ”
Madeleine nodded, her eyes agape at all the food.
Besides the two main dishes Clara had mentioned, there were cheese tartlets, tiny crescent-shaped meat pies, and fresh-baked scones accompanied by pots of golden butter and dark heather honey.
A wheel of Stilton cheese was surrounded by sliced apples and pears, and for dessert, a light ginger pudding studded with plump raisins was accompanied by a small pitcher of lemon sauce.
Clara handed Madeleine a crystal goblet brimming with red wine. “Shall I fill ye a plate, m’lady?” she queried kindly, a look of concern still on her face as Madeleine took a small sip.
“I’ll see to her now,” a deep, male voice answered for her. “Thank you, Clara.”
Madeleine almost choked on her wine. She looked beyond Clara to Garrett, whose broad shoulders seemed to fill the door frame, and she felt a nervous rush of excitement. He stepped into the room, his eyes warmly appraising her.
Clara bobbed a curtsy. “Of course, Major Marshall.” She flashed a reassuring smile at Madeleine, then hurried out, closing the door quietly behind her.
Silence fell over the room, broken only by the clock ticking on the mantelpiece. Madeleine dropped her gaze and tightly gripped her goblet, staring into the wine’s deep red depths.
She tensed as Garrett’s footsteps moved toward her, Clara’s words resounding in her mind. Tonight was her wedding night. Tonight was her wedding night…
She continued to stare blindly at the wine, afraid to look up, afraid of what she might read in his eyes, and afraid of what he might find in hers. No matter what she thought of him, she could not slow her racing pulse or stop the quiver of desire streaking through her.
“Mrs. Merrett said she would prepare a fine meal, but I had no idea she meant a feast.”
Madeleine blinked at the sound of a spoon hitting a platter and looked up, hazarding a glance in Garrett’s direction. He was seated across from her now, casually filling his plate. He smiled as he dipped the serving spoon into the rabbit pie.
“You must be hungry, Madeleine. Please don’t delay your supper on my account.”
Nonplussed, she watched as he ladled a heaping portion of every dish onto his plate, then poured himself a goblet of wine. He began to eat, virtually ignoring her as he savored his food.
“It’s wonderful, Madeleine,” he said, helping himself to a cheese tartlet. “You should eat. You’ll feel much better, and it will help you sleep tonight. We’ve a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Madeleine gaped at him, thoroughly bewildered. Garrett seemed so nonchalant, so at ease. Hardly what she would have expected after everything that had happened that day. But here he was, eating his dinner calmly, unhurriedly, and urging her to do the same!
She licked her lips, her stomach growling painfully. The heady aroma of well-prepared food was driving her mad from hunger. She quickly made up her mind. If Garrett could appear composed and unconcerned, then so could she. She set her goblet on the table and began to fill her plate.
‘The meat pastries are wonderful, and the roast chicken.” He spooned a few pastries onto her plate, then concentrated on his own once again.
Madeleine was so famished she immediately stuffed a pastry into her mouth, the brown gravy dribbling down her chin. Before she could catch it, Garrett reached over with his own napkin and wiped it away.
“Thank ye,” she muttered, swallowing. She ate ravenously for several moments, then slowed down as the pains in her stomach subsided. She barely looked up from her plate, unaware Garrett was watching her until she took a draft of wine. His eyes were lit with amusement.
“What?” she snapped, embarrassed. She realized she must have made quite a spectacle of herself, gobbling her food like a pig at a trough. “Ye said to eat,” she said defensively.
“So I did,” Garrett said, sobering. “Please…go on.”
Madeleine set down her fork. Suddenly she did not feel so hungry, and she sensed if she ate any more of the rich food, she might become ill. She plopped her napkin on the table.
“I’ve had enough, thank ye,” she said sullenly, meeting his steady gaze. She tilted her chin defiantly. “How are my kinsmen? Do they…do they know about the…” Her voice trailed off, unable to say the word wedding. “Do they know what has happened?”
“Yes,” Garrett answered with a touch of irritation. “They know we are husband and wife.” His tone softened, though his eyes were hard. “Your kinsmen are well, Maddie, and grateful to be out of prison. Grateful to you, I should say.”
A yawning silence fell between them when Madeleine did not reply to his cryptic statement. She glanced toward the bedchamber door, feeling a warmth in her cheeks as he followed her gaze, then looked back at her.
“Tired?”
Madeleine nodded, a strange feeling of breathlessness seizing her. She began to tremble, holding her hands tightly so he might not notice.
“Then I’ll leave you,” he said quietly.
She was stunned. “Leave?” Her response was out before she could stop it. She desperately tried to think of something to cover what she’d said, hoping she hadn’t given him the wrong impression. She spied his half-empty plate. “Ye dinna finish yer supper,” she said lamely.
Garrett rose from the chair, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Actually, I’m not very hungry tonight,” he replied, then quickly changed the subject.
“I’ll have Clara come and clear away the food.
She’ll wake you in the morning and help you pack.
I take it you opened the packages I sent up.
” His gaze wandered over her. “That color is lovely on you, Madeleine. It brings out your eyes as well as I thought it would.”
“Aye, Clara opened them for me,” Madeleine said hotly, his words pricking her temper. “If ye think to bribe me with yer gifts, Garrett—”
“Not bribes, Madeleine,” he interrupted, his expression clouding. “Necessities. You didn’t think you’d be traveling back to Strathherrick in those filthy black rags, did you?”
“Och, yes, forgive me,” she flung at him. “My raiding clothes would hardly be suitable for the Lady Marshall. I dinna expect the fine title of lady, Garrett. I thought ‘twas yer brother Gordon who had the title in the family. Or did ye acquire that from the king as well?”
Garrett seemed to flinch. “I have no title, other than ‘the honorable’ before my name,” he explained darkly. “It’s a courtesy style, as it is a courtesy for you to be addressed as Lady Marshall. And you were correct about my brother. Gordon has everything, the title, and the family—”
“Lands!” she finished for him, her eyes flashing. “So ye went after mine instead, Garrett Marshall,” she spat, “Master of Farraline. I’ll have ye know ‘honorable’ doesna suit ye at all. Try bastard, or royal spy! Aye, now that has a fine ring to it!”
It happened so fast, in a blink of an eye. One moment Madeleine was seated, then the next she was in his arms, his fingers biting cruelly into her flesh. His eyes were ablaze with fury, burning into hers. Completely stunned, she could only gape at him.