The Devil’s Due by Boucher, Rita (short books for teens .txt) 📕

says. We both could be better for some fattenin’, milord, or should I still be callin’ you ‘Major’?”

“Address me as ‘major’ once more and I will fire you, Fred. They left us to rot in hell, no matter what our rank. And now I’ve found that they’ve lifted my purse and all I have are his bloody Majesty’s vowels,” Duncan declared emphatically as mounted his horse. “Are you absolutely sure you want to come with me?” The thought of losing one of the only men he still trusted was causing surprising discomfort

“Aye,” Fred said, settling himself in the saddle. “A guardian angel, I am, is what I’m thinkin’.”

Duncan snort was not quite a laugh.

“Seems to me that someone ‘as to keep you out of trouble, Major.”

“Fred, you are fired!” Duncan said.

“That’s four!” Fred crowed, his rubbery face stretching into a huge grin “That’s another five shillings owin’ me, Major, a total of seven pounds. Add to what I won from you at cards and wages, comes to more than a hundred pounds all told. Looks like you can’t fire me now. Can’t afford to!”

“Devil take you, Fred!” Duncan called, looking away lest the man see the glint of tears that blurred his vision. He turned his horse northwards

“Question is where he be takin’ me,” the bantam man mumbled, hastily taking up the reins and galloping after his master.

. . .

Kate woke to the sound of distant thunder echoing in the mountains of Wester Ross. From the window of her bedchamber, she could see the silver waters of Loch Maree ruffling white with the rising wind. Clouds, grey and heavy with the promise of violent fury, gathered over the distant summit of Beinn Airidh Charr. With a cry of dismay, she ran down the back stairs, bare soles slapping on the worn stone. For all that it was midsummer; the kitchen garden had nearly been obliterated by a pelting hail in the previous thunderstorm. They could ill-afford to lose what little produce remained.

“Daisy,” she called into the bowels of the antiquated kitchen. “How could you have let me sleep so long? I only intended to rest for a few minutes, yet you have allowed me to dream most of the afternoon away.”

“‘Tis exhausted you were, milady,” Daisy Wilkes said, turning from the hearth to wag a wooden spoon at her mistress in a gesture of rebuke. “As it is, I can’t for the life of me think how I let you climb up on that roof. A wonder it is that you didn’t fall and break your neck, I swear. What his lordship would have said, I can’t imagine.”

“My husband would have been shocked to his blue-blooded marrow, I venture. No doubt Lord Steele would have preferred that we had drowned in our beds, rather than risk my dubious dignity,” Kate said, biting her lip in worry as she hastily tied an apron over her worn round gown. “I only pray that the patches I fashioned will hold; else we will wish that we had fins and gills tonight. There is rain aplenty on the way. I am going out to the garden to salvage what vegetables I can.”

“‘Tisn’t right,” Daisy said, shaking her head, “you, a lady, grubbing in the dirt. If only . . .”

“It is no use to wonder ‘if only,” Kate said, frowning as she searched for a basket. “And ‘tis lucky indeed that I was raised as a child of the regiment, else we would not have gotten this far. If you recall, Daisy, it was you who transformed me from Colonel Braxton’s brat into a lady.”

“Now don’t you go saying such things,” Daisy rebuked. “Your blood was as blue as your husband’s, for all that your Ma chose to follow the drum.”

“Yes, I come of good blood, and so, for that matter, does black pudding. A great deal of good my illustrious ancestry did me,” Kate commented caustically as she rummaged the cupboard. “My bloodlines and three shillings would admit me to Vauxhall and at present, I would rather have the coins. There it is!” She waved the rush basket in triumph.

“You always was a lady,” Daisy said as she crossed the room and took a bonnet from the peg by the kitchen door, holding it out pointedly. “Made you look like one, was all I did, and I swear that I’ll try to keep it that way, for your dear Pa’s sake. So proud, he was, when you wed a lord.”

“Yes, it did make Papa very happy,” Kate said with a wistful smile. “He had always thought that he had done Mamma a great wrong, by asking her to live the life of a soldier’s wife.” She shook her head as if to banish the bittersweet thoughts and took the bonnet from the maid’s hands, replacing it on its peg “No, Daisy, I was not born to be a London lady and if you fear for my complexion, my friend, it is far too late. I am as dark as a nut from working out of doors.”

“But milady . . .” Daisy began to protest, her brown eyes mournful as a calf’s.

“I thought we had agreed, Daisy, that you would stop addressing me as ‘milady.’ ‘Tis just ‘Kate’ and ‘Daisy’ betwixt us now.” Kate opened the door, and stared at the darkening sky, trying to gauge how long it would be before the first drops fell.

“It don’t seem right,” Daisy said, pulling the bonnet down once more and thrusting into Kate’s hand. “You a lord’s widow and all.”

“The title is of no use anymore. In fact, if we find ourselves on the run once again, it could definitely present a danger. It was only a matter of luck that no one heard you ‘miladying’ me on the journey,” Kate said, slinging the basket over her arm in surrender and tying the frilly confection on her head. Certainly, it was ludicrous to scrabble about in the garden wearing a bonnet that had cost more