A Hint of Rapture by Miriam Minger Page A

her
husband. She had four beautiful children to sustain her, to care for, to give
her strength.
    "Would ye like to hold her, Maddie?" Flora
asked. Without waiting for an answer, she leaned over and gently scooped the
child from the cradle, placing her in Madeleine's open arms.
    Madeleine felt a tightness in her breast as she held
the infant against her. She would never know what it was to feel a babe grow
within her, never experience the throes of childbirth, its agony and joy. Yet
this knowledge brought her no great sadness, only a poignant understanding. She
would never have a family of her own, but she would always have a larger family
around her, consisting of her clan, her people. It was enough.
    "Do ye have everything ye need, Flora?"
Madeleine asked softly, her gaze sweeping the modest surroundings. Plain wooden
furniture, earthenware pots, and a butter churn were the trappings of their
simple life. A cast-iron pot hung above the fire, suspended from an oaken beam
by a long hook. Steam was escaping beneath the lid, filling the room with the
herbed fragrance of boiled beef.
    "Aye, Maddie, ye mustn't worry for us. We've been
well provided for, thanks to the brave soul who defies the English to lay food
upon our doorstep. Between that and what ye kindly bring us with yer visits,
we'll more than manage."
    Madeleine smiled. "There's wild strawberry jam in
the basket, herbs from Glenis's garden, some healing tea for ye, and a
christening cake for the minister's visit tomorrow. Neil has no doubt eaten his
fill of tablet candy by now, though I did ask him to save some for his
brothers."
    Flora laughed, her smile easing the premature lines in
her pretty face. "I'm so pleased ye'll be standing up for Mary Rose before
the minister, Maddie. It does me proud to think the mistress of Farraline will
be my daughter's godmother."
    "I'm honored ye asked," she replied
sincerely. Suddenly the baby whimpered, her blue eyes fluttering open as she
began to squirm in Madeleine's arms. "I think 'tis time for another
feeding, eh, little one? Ye'll have to look to yer fine mother for that."
    As if to confirm her words, the infant let out a lusty
wail, her tiny hands grasping at the air. Madeleine handed the child over to
Flora, who made soothing sounds to calm her. Neither heard the door swing open
as young Neil rushed into the cottage.
    "Maddie, come look! There's soldiers marching
through the village, with guns and wagons and everything!"
    Startled, Madeleine was on her feet in a flash.
"Neil, stay here with yer mother," she said, rushing to the window.
    "But Maddie—"
    "Hush, child," Flora silenced him sternly.
"Go and sit with yer brothers." She lifted a corner of her thin
chemise to suckle Mary Rose at her milk-laden breast.
    Neil reluctantly did as he was told, though his eyes
followed Madeleine. His brothers had been abruptly awakened by his shouting,
and their confused crying added to the discord.
    "Hush with ye now," he said importantly.
"There's redcoats creeping about. Ye dinna want to bring them in here, do
ye?" When his words showed little effect, he offered them some sticky
tablet candy. The twins quieted immediately, brown eyes wide and watchful as
they sucked on the sugary squares.
    Madeleine leaned on the stone ledge, her heart thumping
hard against her chest. There were at least twenty redcoats marching alongside
a long procession of ten wagons driven by more soldiers. God's wounds! What
were they doing in Farraline?
    She craned her head to get a better view. She couldn't
get a close look at them because Flora's cottage was on a side street, but it
was clear that they were merely passing through the village. Their pace did not
slacken, and their commanding officer seemed to be waving them onward from atop
a great bay horse. Most of the wagons had already turned onto the road leading
to the next village, the same road that wound past her estate . . .
    "Flora, 'tis best to keep the bairns inside 'til
the soldiers have passed,"