Free A Hint of Rapture by Miriam Minger Page B

the blame if these outlaws are not stopped."
    Madeleine had to force herself to breathe steadily. His
cryptic words fell together like pieces of a puzzle in her mind.
    God's wounds! This officer and his men had been sent to
look for her! That had to be it. They must have been traveling to Farraline
when she and her kinsmen raided their camp. Yet it was clear he didn't suspect
her, or she would have surely been arrested already.
    "So what ye're saying, Captain Marshall, is that
some of these . . . troublemakers are in Strathherrick?" she asked
innocently, belying her inner turmoil.
    Garrett perceived he had given more information than he
had intended. It seemed his hostess was very inquisitive.
    "As I said, Mistress Fraser, we've been stationed
here to keep the peace. You and your people have nothing to fear from us."
He quickly changed the subject. "Perhaps you might accompany me through
the house," he ventured. "I'd like to show you that my men have taken
great care not to damage your property." He paused, then added dryly,
"Unlike the soldiers who have been here before us."
    "Aye, yer brothers in arms already did a fine job
of it," she muttered under her breath. She was frustrated that he hadn't
answered her question. Yet she sensed her intuition was correct. She would have
to speak with Angus and Ewen at once, that very night, and warn them of this
new danger.
    Garrett held out his arm to her. "Shall we go,
then, Mistress Maddie?"
    Madeleine shot him a look of pure venom. "Only my kinsmen
call me by that name, Captain Marshall," she said hotly. "Ye may have
taken over my house, but ye dinna have the right to consider yerself part of
the family. Ye and yer men are unwelcome here, and not a day shall pass that I
dinna tell ye so. Now, if ye'll kindly step out of my way."
    He did so, and she brushed past him into the narrow
hall. "And I dinna need yer invitation to survey my own home," she
flung over her shoulder. "I'll see to yer men's clever handiwork
m'self!"
    Garrett stared after her, surprised by the
ungentlemanly direction of his thoughts and the quickening of his desire. God,
but she was lovely!
    He admired the provocative sway of her skirt—the
lustrous fabric skimming her slender hips and the teasing hint of lace
petticoat peeking from beneath the hem. It pleased him that she wore no hoops,
a ridiculous fashion which had obviously not made it to the Highlands. Her
simple gown stirred his imagination, conjuring a tantalizing vision of her
hidden charms.
    An amused grin lit his face. He had never been so
intrigued by a woman before, and the devil knew he'd had his share. Everything
about her fascinated him—the way she moved, the timbre of her voice, and her
flashing blue eyes. Her every gesture and her every word bespoke passion and spirit.
    She was so different from the passive beauties he had
known in England, with their carefully schooled smiles, empty heads, and
conniving mothers who were eager to wed their daughters to a fortune. Even his
memory of Celinda paled in comparison. This woman spoke her mind, and with a
vengeance. Damn, it was refreshing!
    A curious thought struck him. Other than the obvious
act of leaving her home, what would he have to do to bring a smile to the
beauteous Mistress Fraser's lips? he wondered wryly. Could kindness, gallantry,
gentle wooing, and a healthy dose of patience win her favor? Perhaps his
earlier plan when he had thought her a maidservant was not so far off the mark
after all.
    If he could gain her trust, even her slightest
affection, she might be able to help him. As the mistress of Farraline, she
probably knew a great deal of what went on in Strathherrick. Perhaps she even
knew where to find Black Jack . . .
    Garrett strode after her, eager to put his new plan
into action. From what he had seen of her so far, he had no doubt Mistress
Madeleine Fraser would fight him every step of the way. Yet the thought did not
daunt him.
    His Scots grandmother had told him once there was