Midnight Honor

of fealty that bound the entire Farquharson clan to the will of their laird Angus Moy, The MacKintosh of Clan MacKintosh, Chief of Clan Chattan.
    To Fearchar and others like him, the shame was nearly untenable that Angus Moy had not called out the clan and marched to Glenfinnan in support of their valiant prince. Instead, Angus had been one of a dozen influential lairds who had taken commissions in the government army and thereby bound their clansmen to remain at home—some even to take up the Hanover colors—while their prince marched bravely forth to meet his destiny. Fearchar had been one of the most outspoken dissenters; as a result, there was an outstanding warrant for his arrest, as well as for the arrests of Anne's three cousins.
    Raised without benefit of a mother, Anne had spent most of her youth in the brash company of Robert, Eneas, and James Farquharson of Monaltrie. Out of ten children, eighty-six grandchildren, and too many great-grandchildren to count, these four progeny were the stars in Fearchar's sky. They were his hope, and he considered them to be Scotland's promise, for they were as fearless and proud as the mountains and glens that bred the fiercest, boldest hearts of courage. They were Highlanders and Jacobites who proclaimed their loyalty as openly as they wore the white Stuart cockade in their bonnets.
    At the outset of the rebellion, Anne's cousins had joined Fearchar in the mountains, tirelessly tramping the miles between Inverness and Aberdeen, between Aberdeen and Arisaig, to keep the clans informed of events happening south of the border. They had been the first to report the stunning victory of the Highland army over General Sir John Cope's troops at Prestonpans, first to report the prince's march south into England and the subsequent fall of Carlisle, then Manchester, and finally Derby.
    But for the small inconvenience of being a woman and married to the clan chief, Anne likely would have joined them. She was closer to them than to her own siblings—three silly sisters who were content with their stitchery and nursery chores. She had relied on her cousins to teach her the important skills—how to ride like the wind, how to hunt, to shoot a musket and bow—and to that end, she could toss a dirk into a plover's eye at twenty paces or, if the mood came upon her, down a pint of fiery
uisque baugh
without batting a long auburn eyelash. She had been as distraught as they when Angus had forbidden any of the clan to ride to Glenfinnan, as disillusioned, hurt, and angered when he had subsequently donned the uniform of the Black Watch and raised a battalion of four hundred clansmen to join the Hanover regiments under the command of Lord Loudoun.
    Anne shivered and hunched lower in her saddle, not wanting to think about how enraged her husband would be if he knew she was riding to Dunmaglass to meet her grandfather. He had expressly forbidden her to have any further contact with her outlawed kinsmen lest word of her affiliation withrebels reach the ears of Duncan Forbes, Lord President of the Court of Session. But forbidding Anne to see her family was like forbidding fruit to ripen on the vine. Outwardly she may have striven to look and act the part of a gentleman's wife, shunning her trews and doublets for the silk underpinnings and stiff whalebone corsets of a proper married lady. Inwardly, however, she was still “Wild Ruadh Annie,” and if her family needed her, she would go to them. Blood was thicker than any bonds made by marriage vows.
    Ruadh Annie, truth be told, had never given much weight to the state of holy matrimony. Growing up, she had known it would eventually be a necessary evil, as would the vow of obedience she would be required to pledge to her husband. There had not been any shortage of suitors eager to tame the red-haired wildcat, but had someone predicted that she would one day become the mistress of Moy Hall, the Lady Anne MacKintosh, she would have laughed until tears ran down her face.
    She imagined Angus's reaction would have been much the same. Born in the Highlands, but educated in England and widely traveled, he had not had the faintest inkling he would one day inherit the mantle of chief, let alone be obligated to honor an agreement forged when he was still riding ponies and wearing knee breeks.
    Anne had been a waddling sprite of two when Fearchar had secured her future by betrothing her to a MacKintosh. It did not matter that Angus was twelve years older