The Chevalier (11 page)

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Gareth saw her lip begin to tremble and was overwhelmed with the need to comfort her. She was so small, so delicate, this child-woman. He did not want to question her any further. He could not bear to intensify her grief. She had suffered too much already. In reality, all he wished to do was carry her off to some private place and make love to her, slowly and thoroughly. The moment he’d seen her again, he realized that he wanted her very badly. But this was neither the time nor the place for an assignation.

“Is it just you that’s come for the MacCarnan?” she asked hopefully.

“No, I have a detachment with me. I’m in over-all command of quite a few soldiers, but they are spread out, rounding up other traitors. We’ll be meeting here.”

“What are you going to do when you catch them?” she asked, fearfully biting down on her lower lip.

He traced the lines of her cupid’s bow mouth, admiring the lovely contours and the natural pink so like a rosebud. “Nothing for you to worry your gentle heart about.”

“But I must worry. Andrew is my cousin.”

“Is he?” Gareth raised a golden brow. Damn, he should have realized it immediately. Of course, he couldn’t expect her to help him. But he had a job to do and he would use her to that purpose if he had to do so. He did not consider himself a ruthless man; however, he was a loyal subject of His Majesty with duties and responsibilities. Andrew MacCarnan might be Madeline’s cousin, but he was also a vile traitor.

“Gareth, if I ask you something, would you tell me the truth?” Her voice, with its sweet, musical quality, sounded hesitant and frightened.

“I always try to be honest. I think you know that.”

She nodded her head. “They’ve been saying that your army gave no quarter, that you deliberately butchered the Highlanders at Culloden. You used cannon, refusing to fight man to man. Is it true?”

How was he to answer her question? That was exactly what had happened, although he had not allowed his regiment to participate in such merciless slaughter. He was, after all, a soldier, not a murderer. Still, he understood the need to end the foolish uprising as quickly as possible by whatever means were expedient. Otherwise, more English lives would have been lost.

“Who told you this?” he asked softly. He brought his lips close to the pulse that beat rapidly in her swan-like neck.

“Does it really matter?”

“No, I suppose not.” He took her hand and held it tightly in his, afraid to let her go. His voice was very quiet and he spoke without any visible trace of emotion. She had no way of knowing how her beauty effected him, how granite hard his aroused flesh had become when he held her fragile body to him. “Before you and I even met, before I was ordered back to service, the Highlanders were attacking English forces. At the Battle of Prestonpans, 21 September, the Jacobites fired their muskets, then threw them down, drew their swords and ran on, murdering viciously. The impetuosity and fierceness of their attack represents a kind of warfare English troops were not trained for and did not expect. The fear of those great broadswords, the claymores as the Highlanders call them, was enough to send our men into confusion. The fact is, the attack totally demoralized them. The Highlanders used similar tactics to win at Clifton and Falkirk.

“When William Augustus, the Duke of Cumberland, called me back into service, it was for a special purpose. The Duke, as you may know, is His Majesty’s third son, and great trust is placed in him. I have served them both in battle. His Majesty suggested that I might be able to solve the problem of dealing with the Highlanders.”

“You, Gareth? Why you especially?”

His crystalline eyes looked deeply into her huge, pale orbs. She was shivering with emotion, he thought, wanting the terrible confidence he was about to share with her and yet fearing to hear what he was going to say. He stroked the palm of her hand with his callused fingers in a soothing manner.

“I’ve been known to have success plotting tactical advantages,” he replied in simple honesty.

“And how did you find a way to solve your Duke’s problem?” she asked, taking a deep ragged breath and then slowly letting go of it.

“Planning strategy is much like a game of chess.” His voice sounded hard to his own ears.

“But this was not a game, was it?” she asked, her eyes never leaving his, locked to him by the continued revelation of his disturbing confession.

“The Duke and I studied the problem most carefully, interviewing the men who survived Highland attacks to find out exactly why they were so terrified. After I understood, I was able to conceive a plan to train the men in ways of meeting a Highland charge. This I did quite carefully at Aberdeen. I taught them exactly how and when to use the musket, for that must be used first, and then the concerted, disciplined thrust of the bayonet when the Scots had naught but the claymore left. I wished my army to respond with valor. The use of cannon was not my idea, though it was highly effective. Still, I do not condone it. I am not an artillery officer. I won’t be defending what happened at Culloden, but I understand the English side of it. The Highlanders had to be stopped. I only ask that you try to keep an open mind since it would pain me greatly if you should turn against me because of our opposing sympathies.”

“It would pain me too,” she conceded with an earnestness that made him smile. “I consider you my friend and I am glad you felt you could be truthful with me.”

“I would never do less – unless I discovered that you were to play me false.”

She frowned deeply. “But you must understand that I do not see this matter as you do. For me, what happened at Culloden is a great tragedy, and it will always be so.” She did not lower her eyes or refuse to meet his steady gaze.

“Then we must agree not to discuss it again.” His eyes dropped to her lips. “For the sake of our friendship.”

“Yes, certainly for that.” Her voice was soft but unsure.

“Where will I find you?”

“At the manor house. My cousin Anne says she will not run and hide as we were warned to do. I won’t either. Surely, you would not harm us?”

His voice was solemn. “I would never hurt you if I could help it, my sweet girl. There shall be no burning or looting here. I will give the order and make certain it is carried out. You will have nothing to fear from my soldiers. I await my men and then you may tell your cousin to expect us.”

He had an overwhelming desire to take her small, fragile body into his arms and crush her against him. Instead, he balled his hands into fists and pressed them into the pockets of his coat.

In England, he would never have considered taking her, despite the overpowering lust he felt the few times they were together, but here in this wild, foreign place, when he felt his passion for the girl come over him again, it was nearly impossible to control. There was a voice in his head whispering that she was his if he wanted her, part of the spoils of war. But he was a man of honor and would not listen to such a siren’s song. Yet the primitive desire was still there, whispering in the dark, dangerous edge of his mind.

Surely, she must want him as much as he wanted her; hadn’t she behaved the daring coquette from the first? Still, it had been done in relative safety, for she was in London then. He knew very well the power he wielded here, although he was certain that she could not fully comprehend it as yet. But he would never force her – or any woman for that matter. He already knew she was incredibly passionate, and for a man as experienced in the art of lovemaking as he was, she would offer a pleasant diversion but little real challenge. Was that all he wanted from the chit, a momentary satisfaction? He wasn’t really certain. He found her quite charming, and something of a paradox – innocent and yet knowing. All he was certain about was the tightening of his desire, the unmistakable quickening of his body, whenever he held the girl in his arms. So strong was the hunger he felt for her that he could concentrate on little else. But for the sake of completing the difficult task Cumberland had set before him, he must think of some way to suppress his hunger for Madeline de Marnay.

 
Ten

Cousin Anne received the news of the arrival of the English with quiet courage. She gathered them together – Madeline, Elizabeth and the servants – and spoke in encouraging terms.

“We’ve got to show the enemy they no’ can frighten us. We’re to set an example.”

Tense and ready, they observed Gareth Eriksen ride up to the manor house followed by a regiment of redcoats. Madeline couldn’t help thinking he looked very much like a knight of old, resplendently handsome and powerful, golden hair blown back recklessly from his forehead, spine straight as a saber. They were watching from the front window but waited until Gareth actually knocked at the door to come forward.

He was quick to state his business, cool, unemotional and detached. He glanced at Madeline but just as quickly turned away. Cousin Anne stared into his steady eyes with resignation.

“You are no’ welcome here, Englishman. We would like you to leave us in peace.”

“We have come, Madame, for Andrew MacCarnan and the Young Pretender. We will be staying until we find them or until we are satisfied they are not in this vicinity. We intend to be quite thorough.”

“Get out of my house! You’ll no’ find Andrew MacCarnan nor the Bonnie Prince here.” Anne’s temper flared, her face as fiery as her hair.

Gareth stared at Madeline’s cousin with eyes that glittered like a frozen lake in winter. “I intend to stay in your house, Madam, until our purpose here is concluded.” The look on his face clearly showed that no opposition would be tolerated.

“You’ll no’ stay in my home.”

Gareth was a study in still life and self-control, his demeanor unflappable. “Very well, I don’t intend to force my will upon you or your relations, although I could if I were so inclined. I’ve observed the castle that adjoins your manor is vacant. We will establish our headquarters there. We will trouble you as little as possible. Good day, Mistress MacCarnan. Goodbye, ladies.” With a quick glance at Madeline and Elizabeth, he took his leave of them.

“The vile beast! He’ll do what he wishes no matter what we say. But we’ll outfox him yet.” Anne’s expression was contorted with rage.

“He really can be a considerate and understanding man,” Madeline said, swallowing uneasily.

“You’d defend our enemy?” her cousin said in an incredulous, outraged voice.

“I met him in London, you see. He was very thoughtful toward me.”

Anne shook her head in obvious disbelief. “Did your mother approve of him?”

“Not really,” she conceded.

“I thought no’. Please, have nothing further to do with that devil. He can bring naught but grief to our family. Hear me well, my girl, for I think of you as I would my own bairn. That Englishman is a serpent. Do not trust him no matter what he may say.”

Madeline nodded her head dejectedly, feeling her grief press against her heart. To think of Gareth as an enemy was impossible; it went against all of her instincts. Yet she must mind her mother’s cousin, for like Maman, Anne had lived many years and was wise in the ways of the world.

All the rest of the day, they heard the soldiers moving around the castle, setting up tents outside and arranging their encampment. As the gloaming approached, Cousin Anne drew her and Elizabeth together before the fireplace in the drawing room.

“I’ve been thinkin’ that we must find a safe way to get food and supplies to Andrew now that the English are here. The men won’t be able to leave the cave and we must warn them of everything that is happening hereabouts. Maddy, you and Beth will no’ arouse suspicion if you take a basket out with you. You will have to make certain that you are not followed though. If you are, pretend to picnic and come right back to the house. Andrew is better off hungry than taken by the English. The main thing is that he not become their prisoner.”

Madeline nodded gravely, knowing that Anne was right. “I’ll do my very best,” she promised.

Anne smiled, taking her hand and Elizabeth’s in her own. “You’re good lasses and I know you’ll see to the laird. I don’t think the soldiers will bother the two of you if you’re together, but Maddy, you must take your hair down and braid it so that you look younger. It’s best if the men think you’re not much older than Elizabeth. I want you to wear a simple white linen gown, your plainest garment. Bind your breasts and cover the bodice so no one will suspect how full and fine your figure is. We don’t want any of these foul dogs lusting after ye, and know they will if they see how ye are truly made.”

Madeline flushed hotly. Anne spoke to her in a stern voice, but Madeline understood that her cousin was only watching out for her welfare. She had no desire to flaunt her body in front of these soldiers. The thought of a man forcing himself upon her was terrifying. She would heed Anne’s motherly advice.

That night, she slept very little. She kept thinking about her mother, but often her thoughts would shift to Gareth Eriksen. She understood that she must avoid him. There would only be trouble for her if she didn’t. When he had held her in his arms today, all other thoughts had left her. All she wanted was to be with him, to feel his strong arms around her. She was afraid that if he ever kissed her again, she would be lost. No, from this time on, she resolved she must keep a careful distance from the man; he truly was dangerous to her.

The following morning, Anne had Jenny pack a basket of food that had been prepared by old Winnie, the cook. A bottle of Scotch whiskey was thrown in along with everything they could spare from the kitchen.

“How I wish we had a man to hunt for us,” Anne said. “The woods are full of red deer, fat partridges and grouse.”

“That’s all right,” Elizabeth assured her, “Maddy and I like to fish and the trout’s never been better.”

Anne kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Ye are my angels. The two of you have faces like seraphs. It does my heart good to have you both with me. Now mind, be careful of the soldiers. Don’t look at them at all; act as if they’re not there and you don’t see them and ignore any nasty things they might be sayin’. Dinna let them goad you. It’s the only way.”

They held the heavy basket between them and left quickly. Just as Anne predicted, when the soldiers saw them, a few comments were made, but Madeline looked through them as if they were invisible and Elizabeth followed her example.

For a short time, Madeline imagined footsteps behind them and kept looking back, but it soon became evident that no one had followed them and she breathed a deep sigh of relief. In their sturdy boots with the loaded basket firmly set between them, the two girls were able to move quickly toward the higher hills and the cave hiding Andrew MacCarnan. Still, it was quite an exertion and Madeline found herself totally exhausted by the time they reached their destination.

“How do you even know where the cave is?” Madeline asked Elizabeth.

“‘Tis where we used to play as children. I know every cave about here and every loch. The English may search as much as they please, but they’ll no find this cave unless someone chooses to lead them here and that will ne’er be.”

Madeline turned and looked around, appreciating the beauty of the rugged terrain. The hills and mist-shrouded mountains were majestic. Deep purple thistles ringed them and blue cornflowers grew wild everywhere.

Granite rocks impressive in their grandeur heralded the opening of the cave. Madeline thought they must have endured since the beginning of time. She took a deep breath of the pure, rare air, appreciating the sweet smell that surrounded her.

Elizabeth called out and then signaled Madeline to follow her. Slowly, Madeline walked with an uncertain step into a dark aperture. As her eyes adjusted, she saw the two men who guarded their chief. One was a huge giant with a fierce expression on his face who kept his claymore drawn and ready, the other was wiry and half his size.

“You weren’t followed?” the wiry man asked.

“Nay,” Elizabeth said. “We were very careful. You know the English have come?”

“Aye, we’ve had word.”

The giant relieved them of their basket for which Madeline was very grateful.

“We brought you food and candles. What else be you needin’?”

“We can do with this,” the thin man said, his sun-weathered face lighting up at the find of the whiskey.

“How’s my brother?”

“Better, but not himself yet. The wounds were severe and he’s been feverish.”

“Robbie, you best be takin’ good care of him.” Elizabeth sounded every bit as fierce as her mother.

“I’d put my life down for Andrew and so would Fergus.”

The giant did not speak but grunted and nodded his head in agreement.

They found Andrew asleep, covered by furs. He moved restlessly as Elizabeth placed her hand on his forehead.

“He’s hot,” she said. “I ought to wash him down. That’s what Mither would do.”

“I’ll help you,” Madeline said.

Elizabeth called to the two Highlanders to bring some water for washing and then began to uncover Andrew. As she did, he awoke and looked from his sister to Madeline. Then he smiled.

“I’ve surely died and gone to heaven with two lovely angels to gaze on.”

“He’s better than I thought,” Elizabeth said returning the smile.

Andrew reached out and took Madeline’s hand. “I’ll soon be feeling better with my betrothed here.” He took her plaited hair in his hand and twirled it over his hand.

“Such fine ebon locks. When we marry, I want to watch you comb out your hair for me every night.”

She flushed deeply at the thought of such intimacy with him. Light brown freckles danced on the bridge of his nose. His wide-set eyes viewed her with warmth. He was indeed a handsome man. Perhaps if she thought about him, she would forget Gareth Eriksen. She bent over Andrew and kissed his brow, but then he pulled her forward over him and brought his lips against her own. It was a warm, nice kiss, yet for some reason she did not understand, it did not make her pulse race at all as when Gareth Eriksen kissed her. The MacCarnan was a very attractive man. Shouldn’t she have felt a thrill of excitement at his kiss?

“Behave yourself, Andrew,” Elizabeth said. “You’re not married yet.”

He sank back against the furs. “I don’t need a wee slip of a lass to remind me of that! Though I fear I may never get to marry at all. I’m terrible tired. But the taste of Maddy’s lips is worth any exertion,” he commented with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Robbie brought the water then and Elizabeth offered to apply cool compresses to Andrew’s face and body. Madeline felt shy about seeing her betrothed undressed. She moved away offering to help with any other task that needed to be done. She looked back at Andrew several times and felt his fern green eyes following her every move. She didn’t know why, but it made her feel terribly uneasy.

Andrew insisted on kissing her goodbye before they left, his hand pressing her own. “You’ll come back again soon?” he asked with a hopeful voice.

“Yes, in a day or two,” she promised.

“And we’ll bring you news,” Elizabeth said.

“Who is leading these soldiers that have come for me?”

“Gareth Eriksen is his name. He’s an officer under the Duke of Cumberland,” Madeline responded.

Andrew’s eyes darkened visibly. “Aye, the Viking – that’s what they call him. He’s a man to be reckoned with. I know him by reputation, a fellow to be feared. He’s a formidable soldier, a strict disciplinarian, like his duke. We’ll no’ be rid of him so easy.”

It seemed strange to hear Andrew speak of Gareth in this way, almost as if he were describing someone else.

“Mind, gels, be careful of the fellow for he’s shrewd and ruthless. He’ll be huntin’ me down if he’s able.”

Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide in her round, child-like face. “He wouldn’t torture us, would he?”

“Nay, Beth, these English aristocrats think themselves civilized. They call us savages, though we could teach them a thing or two about treating people in a humane manner.”

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When they returned to the manor, Anne was waiting for them anxiously. “How did it go?” she asked.

“Very well,” Elizabeth replied. “Andrew sends his love and wants us to return again tomorrow.”

“The day after will be better. ‘Twas dangerous enough to go this morning.”

They stayed in the house the rest of the day, first resting and then doing chores. Madeline’s mind was troubled, full of thoughts of Andrew and Gareth. She liked Andrew MacCarnan very much, but he did not excite the kind of feelings in her that Gareth did. Still, it was expected that she would marry Andrew. However, he was a wanted man and so that could not happen very soon. Yet what if he expected her to marry him quickly? What would she say or do? It was what Maman wanted for her, what was considered right and proper. Surely, she must marry Andrew if he wanted her! It was her duty. But what of her feelings, what of her needs? Perhaps they were not of any consequence. She had been told over and over again that girls must be obedient to the wishes of their parents. Rebellion only led to punishment and grief. It was everyone’s wish that she marry Andrew MacCarnan, everyone’s wish except her own. But what did she want? Perhaps she wasn’t ready to marry anyone just yet. One thing was certain; she must find a way not to think of Gareth Eriksen anymore, for he was truly the enemy of her Highland family.