Read Online A Hint of Rapture by Miriam Minger - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Miriam Minger
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summon the master of the house—"
"Sir Hugh is dead, sir. He was killed at
Culloden."
Garrett fell silent and felt awkward. He should have
guessed as much. He softened his tone. "His wife, then, the Lady . .
."
"Fraser, sir," she finished for him.
"Lady Jean died many years ago. There is only the young mistress
now."
"Where is she?" Garrett asked, shifting the
woman's weight on his shoulder. "We have much to discuss. And I wish to
explain what happened to her maidservant here, Maddie."
Glenis's eyes lit with understanding. " 'Tis no
maidservant ye're carryin', sir," she murmured gravely. " 'Tis the
mistress of Farraline, Madeleine Fraser."
Now it was Garrett's turn to stare. He swallowed hard,
his face flushing warmly. He had never felt so sheepish in his life. He didn't
know quite what to do or say.
Glenis finally broke the uncomfortable silence.
"If ye'll kindly follow me, sir—"
"Captain Garrett Marshall," he said.
"If ye'll follow me, Captain Marshall,"
Glenis said with great dignity, "I'll show ye to my mistress's chamber,
where I might see to her needs."
Garrett simply nodded. As he climbed the stairs behind
the aged Scotswoman, he could not help thinking that his mission had gotten off
to another miserable start.
Chapter 5
Glenis closed the polished wardrobe door, clucking her
tongue disapprovingly. "Ye've scarce given yerself time to rest, Maddie.
'Tis only been a few hours, and already ye're up and about. Ye took a bad fall
accordin' to the captain. He told me all about it. He was quite sorry he'd
caused ye harm. I think ye should climb back into bed and stay put until
tomorrow morn."
"Since when do ye believe anything an Englishman
tells ye?" Madeleine retorted. "I'm fine, Glenis." Her fingers
worked furiously at the mother-of-pearl buttons on her bodice. Knowing what was
going on downstairs, she could not dress fast enough. She winced at the sudden
sharp ache in her head and bit her lower lip.
"There, ye see!" Glenis noted with
exasperation, wagging a bony finger. "I should have forced of my nettle
tea into ye, whether ye liked the taste or no. At least ye'd still be asleep
and ye wouldna be feelin' so poorly." Glenis moved to the bed and flung
back the flowered Coverlet. She patted the mattress firmly. "Back to bed
with ye, Madeleine Fraser. Ye can speak to the captain in the morning. From the
looks of it, those soldiers plan to be stayin' at Mhor Manor for quite a while."
"They winna if I can help it," Madeleine
fumed, ignoring Glenis's suggestion. Redcoats under her own roof! She could
hardly believe it. She bent down to fasten the brass buckles on her brogues,
then straightened, smoothing the skirt of her clean linen gown. "What did
ye say was that captain's name?"
Clearly frustrated, Glenis sighed heavily and sank down
on the bed. She gave Madeleine a look she had known all her life, reproaching
her for her stubbornness. "Captain Marshall. Garrett's his Christian
name."
"I dinna care one whit about his Christian
name," Madeleine muttered under her breath. Without another word she
flounced from the room.
How dare they invade my home, she thought furiously as
she rushed down the hallway to the main staircase. While she had slept the
afternoon away, thirty-odd redcoats had taken over the entire right wing of
Mhor Manor. Glenis had told her they were building bunks in the dancing room
and the spare guest rooms. Bunks!
Madeleine felt another sharp pang, and she paused,
leaning against the wall, until it subsided. Her thoughts were still fuzzy, her
memory of the accident earlier that day only fragmented pictures in her mind.
She distinctly remembered the wild ride from Farraline, but what followed was
no more than a streaking blur of events. Everything had happened so fast.
There had been a violent jolt as her mare struck the
other horse, then she had flown through the air. After that she recalled only
blackness until she opened her eyes to find herself in the arms of an
"Sir Hugh is dead, sir. He was killed at
Culloden."
Garrett fell silent and felt awkward. He should have
guessed as much. He softened his tone. "His wife, then, the Lady . .
."
"Fraser, sir," she finished for him.
"Lady Jean died many years ago. There is only the young mistress
now."
"Where is she?" Garrett asked, shifting the
woman's weight on his shoulder. "We have much to discuss. And I wish to
explain what happened to her maidservant here, Maddie."
Glenis's eyes lit with understanding. " 'Tis no
maidservant ye're carryin', sir," she murmured gravely. " 'Tis the
mistress of Farraline, Madeleine Fraser."
Now it was Garrett's turn to stare. He swallowed hard,
his face flushing warmly. He had never felt so sheepish in his life. He didn't
know quite what to do or say.
Glenis finally broke the uncomfortable silence.
"If ye'll kindly follow me, sir—"
"Captain Garrett Marshall," he said.
"If ye'll follow me, Captain Marshall,"
Glenis said with great dignity, "I'll show ye to my mistress's chamber,
where I might see to her needs."
Garrett simply nodded. As he climbed the stairs behind
the aged Scotswoman, he could not help thinking that his mission had gotten off
to another miserable start.
Chapter 5
Glenis closed the polished wardrobe door, clucking her
tongue disapprovingly. "Ye've scarce given yerself time to rest, Maddie.
'Tis only been a few hours, and already ye're up and about. Ye took a bad fall
accordin' to the captain. He told me all about it. He was quite sorry he'd
caused ye harm. I think ye should climb back into bed and stay put until
tomorrow morn."
"Since when do ye believe anything an Englishman
tells ye?" Madeleine retorted. "I'm fine, Glenis." Her fingers
worked furiously at the mother-of-pearl buttons on her bodice. Knowing what was
going on downstairs, she could not dress fast enough. She winced at the sudden
sharp ache in her head and bit her lower lip.
"There, ye see!" Glenis noted with
exasperation, wagging a bony finger. "I should have forced of my nettle
tea into ye, whether ye liked the taste or no. At least ye'd still be asleep
and ye wouldna be feelin' so poorly." Glenis moved to the bed and flung
back the flowered Coverlet. She patted the mattress firmly. "Back to bed
with ye, Madeleine Fraser. Ye can speak to the captain in the morning. From the
looks of it, those soldiers plan to be stayin' at Mhor Manor for quite a while."
"They winna if I can help it," Madeleine
fumed, ignoring Glenis's suggestion. Redcoats under her own roof! She could
hardly believe it. She bent down to fasten the brass buckles on her brogues,
then straightened, smoothing the skirt of her clean linen gown. "What did
ye say was that captain's name?"
Clearly frustrated, Glenis sighed heavily and sank down
on the bed. She gave Madeleine a look she had known all her life, reproaching
her for her stubbornness. "Captain Marshall. Garrett's his Christian
name."
"I dinna care one whit about his Christian
name," Madeleine muttered under her breath. Without another word she
flounced from the room.
How dare they invade my home, she thought furiously as
she rushed down the hallway to the main staircase. While she had slept the
afternoon away, thirty-odd redcoats had taken over the entire right wing of
Mhor Manor. Glenis had told her they were building bunks in the dancing room
and the spare guest rooms. Bunks!
Madeleine felt another sharp pang, and she paused,
leaning against the wall, until it subsided. Her thoughts were still fuzzy, her
memory of the accident earlier that day only fragmented pictures in her mind.
She distinctly remembered the wild ride from Farraline, but what followed was
no more than a streaking blur of events. Everything had happened so fast.
There had been a violent jolt as her mare struck the
other horse, then she had flown through the air. After that she recalled only
blackness until she opened her eyes to find herself in the arms of an
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