The Devil’s Due by Boucher, Rita (free reads txt) 📗

himself into a stupor, it was not her right to interfere. He had told her in no uncertain terms that he did not desire her presence. Yet she hesitated to leave him to himself, not when despair floated around him like a miasma, not when he had been so kind to her.

Kind? A strange attribute for a rakehell, but Duncan MacLean’s innate decency could not be denied. Kate was beginning to realize that it was as much a part of him as the sardonic arch of his brows. His concern for Anne; his willingness to refrain from prying into the question of her past; tolerating a stranger whose identity was a known charade; the indulgence in allowing her to ride his horse. These were but a few of his acts that bespoke a character wholly at odds with his reprobate reputation.

Kate began to count the many small, unasked favors, the way that he had quietly shifted minor burdens from her shoulders, dressing the game, chopping the wood, making their part of the castle more proof against bad weather It was all very well for Daisy to claim that he worked as much for himself as for others, but if he were indeed so selfishly motivated, he would be driving everyone harder, not easing their way.

Kate sighed. It was almost something of a shame that the “Mad MacLean” had not lived up to his sordid stature. Kate had dealt with her share of rogues; any number of them had worn England’s red coat. If Duncan MacLean had proven to be one of the usual run of scoundrels, she would have used him without qualm or conscience and dismissed him entirely from her thoughts. Unfortunately, Kate was forced to acknowledge that those quiet acts of kindness were proving far more seductive than any of the rogue’s standard list of lures.

As she watched the shadow of that powerful figure stalking to and fro in the night she knew that she was losing her struggle. She did not want to like him, but she did. He made no claim on her emotions. Even so she could not help but give him her sympathy.

“Don’t you be frettin’ yourself, milady.”

Fred’s whisper startled her. The man had blended so completely with the darkness that she had not noticed his presence.

“Please, Fred, do not keep addressing me, as milady. I feel too much a fraud as is. I would be pleased if you call me Kate.”

“Kate it is then. Never you mind, Kate, what the Major might ‘ave said. Ain’t no reasonin’ with ‘im when ‘ee’s like this.”

“Do these dreams occur frequently?” Kate asked, recalling the early days of their flight. Anne had wrestled with her terror almost nightly, her cries waking the other occupants of the various inns they had frequented. More than once, they had been shown the door and had been forced to take a tortuous route for fear that someone would speak of two women with a little girl who screamed the night away.

“Been awhile since the last one,” Fred scratched his head thoughtfully. “The nightmares ‘ave come less and less since we got ‘ere, seems to me. Tonight ‘ad the making of one of the worst though, till you came along. Don’t know what sets them off. Might be the weather. It were powerful ‘ot today and ‘ee was workin’ out in the field in the worst of it. Couldn’t get ‘im to stop.”

“He’s a stubborn man,” Kate said. “Anyone with any sense could see that it was not a day for hard labor in the sun.”

“Didn’t see you stintin’ on the work either,” Fred remarked, “Daisy were sayin’ ‘ow she were thinkin’ you’d bake your brains into a puddin’ out in the garden. Seems to me you’re two of a kind. I figure twixt the sun on is ‘ead all day and the fact the room were so stiflin’ ‘ot it put ‘im in mind of La Purgatoor.”

Kate decided to let the first part of his comment slip, although she intended to let Daisy know what she thought of being gossiped about. “You were prisoners at La Purgatoire?”

“Aye,” Fred acknowledged. “Twelve men in a cell what would barely fit ‘alf the number. Took turns sleepin’, we did. It were the Major what worked it out, took care of us all, be it enlisted or officer, made sure we got the same share. There were a lot of grumblin’ about that, let me tell you, but the Major kept it fair. It were ‘im what figured out ‘ow we could get loose. Took us all, even those we would of been better off leavin’ for the Monsewers.”

The man clearly had more to say, so Kate asked the question that he was obviously waiting for. “Why would you wish to leave anyone behind?”

“They nearly got us all killed. Soon as we was beyond the walls, them other ‘igh-rankers bethought themselves of their own plans. When there’s too many officers, Lord ‘elp the private is what I say. Wouldn’t take no orders from Major MacLean. Them sons of Mayfair swells knew better, they thought, then some Scots savage. My Major was all for ‘eadin’ inland, layin’ low in the countryside.”

“What the Frenchies would least expect?” Kate conjectured.

“Aye,” Fred agreed, looking at Kate with newfound respect. “But them nobs wouldn’t ‘ear of nothin’ but ‘eadin’ straight fer the coast. Told the Major to let them fools walk into Jacque’s waitin’ arms, but ‘ee wouldn’t leave them. Major ‘oped to make them see reason. Saw them as ‘is men, ‘ee did, for all that they were followin’ the Cavalry Charlies’ orders.”

“Anyone knows that twixt a Hussar and his horse, it is the horse what has the greater wits,” Kate said, wondering how Duncan had managed to bear it, to stay even in the knowledge that he was likely being led to his death. “I suppose the French were waiting for you?”

“Two dozen or more by the look of it,” Fred said bitterly. “If the Major ‘adn’t