The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (23 page)

"Alex?" My voice sounded strange to me. Alex turned to me with a puzzled expression. "Do you think that this child is not yours?"

He paled and blinked. "No," he said in a strangled voice as he moved to me. "No, Mary, I'm no' suggesting that. No."

"It is your child."

He met my eyes. "Lass," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I have never doubted ye. Never. I did wonder how ye could still love me, Mary, but I dinna think ye'd go to another man's bed. Not even Robert's. Nor, God help me for believing good of him, did I think he'd ask ye while I live. No, lass, all I'm thinking is how strange it was for ye to conceive that night when we tried so often earlier. And now I willna be there to see this child grow up, or perhaps even born."

"I am trying to be as brave as you, but, Alex, if you doubt me, I cannot go on. I have never been unfaithful. Never."

"Mary." He gripped my arms. "Lass, I never doubted ye. Put it from yer mind. I was only in wonder at the timing. Mo
Dia
, Mary, do ye no' think I ken ye better than that? I asked ye to trust me that there was nothing between Morag and me and ye've asked me to trust ye about Robert. That's what a marriage is, lass, is trust and love." He released his grip and ran his hands up my arms as he shook his head. "No, Mary, I'm just having a hard time being in here. I kent that prison was a possibility, but I dinna ken how it would feel to be here." He smiled. "I've never lost before. 'Tis a harsh lesson. I wake each day thinking it could be my last, and every moment I'm haunted by wondering what ye and the boys are doing and kenning I canna help ye. I must rely on others, including the man who wants to take my place, and every part of me says I should be caring for ye and my sons. But I canna, and to see ye like this, carrying my child all that tim6 without me even kenning ..." He shook his head. "Well, lass, let's just say it doesna sit well with me." He stroked my hair. "But I love ye truly, Mary MacGannon, and when I'm in my right mind I never doubt that ye love me as well."

I looked up at his face. "And when you're not?"

"Well, lass, then I think on Robert Campbell waiting for my death and I go mad for a bit."

"I will love you forever, Alex. Only you. Only you."

"And I ye." He held me to him fiercely.

"Alex," I said to his chest, "we're trying to get you freed."

"Dinna bother, lass. It's no likely they'll release me. I dinna think the Pope could free me now."

"Alex, we will try to free you." I told him of selling everything from Kilgannon and the sale of the Katrine. He listened
quietly
and nodded, releasing me and pacing the room.

"Ye did well, lass, but I would prefer that now ye use the money for yer own needs. Ye will have many in the months to come, though it is good that yer family came to rescue ye. Pm glad they're in yer camp. I would no' have ye be alone. Now, tell me, where is Angus? Where are my men?" He listened
quietly
while I told about my last conversation with Angus, then sighed. "I feared as much. Ye must find him, Mary, and tell him no' to try to free me here by force. It canna be done; I dinna want them to end up in here with me, or dead."

"I will. But, Alex, he says he will die trying to free you."

Anger washed over his face. "Tell him I want no more deaths, and no' Angus's, of all people. If he dies, Mary, then my sacrifice has been for naught. We could have sat down in the snow last winter and let ourselves have a peaceful death. I dinna struggle to return home and then let Robert capture me so that Angus and the men could die trying to free me from here." He waved his hand in an abrupt gesture. "Ye see this place, lass. They have no chance to free me from here by force." He took a deep breath. "But there are other ways to get out, lass, smarter ways, and we need to discover them. I need ye to tell Angus that I've been told I can have a valet. Have him send Gilbey to me as soon as he can. I thought of Matthew, but he doesna look like a manservant, nor Angus, so Gilbey will have to do. Tell him to look servile." Alex laughed. "We'll see what a playactor he is. He'll be our means of communication, lass, and we must have someone we can trust. Ye must find Angus and tell him these are my orders. He mustna try to free me yet. I want other things taken care of in my absence, like Clonmor. Do ye remember it? The property that I gave Malcolm? Well, it's still legally mine. The papers are at Kilgannon. If someone can get there and find them, we can sell it, or at the least get him off my lands. Ask Kenneth Ogilvie, the lawyer. He'll do it." He frowned. "If it's no' included in the forfeiture. I dinna ken. They have no' given me the papers yet, but I have been told I've forfeited."

"Clonmor? Your mother's lands are still yours?"

"Aye, we always meant to deed it over to Malcolm, but we never did." He went to the window and looked out. "We must discover if it's included in the forfeiture. If it is, then it's gone and Malcolm canna have it either, but if it is no', then perhaps the wisest would be to let everything
settle
and then ye can claim Clonmor after ... later. If we act on it now without kenning its status, the court will discover the truth and we may claim it only to have it seized. We must discover what the law says. And I need Angus and Kenneth Ogilvie to do that."

"I will try to find Angus."

"Someone will have to go to Kilgannon and get the papers."

"We don't need to, Alex. I emptied your desk, I brought all of your papers with me. Would Clonmor's have been among them?"

"They were in the desk."

"Then I have them at Louisa's."

He grinned at me. "Remind me to marry ye again."

"I will hold you to that," I said and leaned against him. He laughed as my arms went around his waist.

"Mary Rose," he said, "I missed ye so." And bent to kiss me. I closed my eyes and concentrated on his soft lips. He threaded his fingers through my hair and pulled me closer, tilting his head to kiss me more fully while I stroked his back, tracing my fingers down his ribs to his waist, and smiling to myself when I felt his body's response. We were lost in our embrace when the door opened. I put my head on his chest and did not turn as the guard told Alex politely that it was time for me to go. I could hear Alex's heart beating steadily as he thanked the guard, and waited until the door closed. I closed my eyes for a moment and tightened my arms around him, willing time to stop. Alex was calm as he leaned back and looked into my face.

"Ye must tell Angus what I've said and what I need him to do. And tell my sons that I love them. Will ye do that?"

"I will," I said, fighting for calm. He kissed me again, then stepped back, his arms falling to his sides. "Go now, lass, while I can let ye leave." I nodded, my tears beginning again. "I love you, Alex."

"And I you, Mary Rose. Until the end of time." "Until the end of time," I said. At the threshold I turned back for one last look. He stood very still, his face pale against the
grey
stone. He raised a hand to wave and behind me I heard the clink of chains as his jailers waited to return him to his cell.

The boys were allowed to see him the next week, but I was not. I told Ian to tell his father that I'd not found Angus, despite several visits to Westminster. Alex sent word that he needed a valet as soon as possible. I discussed it with my family and in the end, to my chagrin, my aunt's butler, Bronson, never one of my
favourite
people, was the one chosen to act the part. And then Harry's requests for visits were denied. We were not given an explanation but we soon discovered why.

W’
D KNOWN OF THE MAXWELLS, BUT HAD NEVER met them. William, the fifth Earl of Nithsdale, Jacobite to the bone, had joined the rebellion early on and had traveled south with one branch of the rebel army. He'd been captured at Preston, after the defeat there, summarily tried, and found guilty of treason. Imprisoned in the Tower after being sentenced to death, he had been allowed frequent visits from his wife, Winifred. The night before his execution, the same day I'd seen Alex, Lady Nithsdale had visited her husband one last time. And stood at his door saying her farewells, sobbing and being comforted by her maid. She'd left the Tower at once, still inconsolable, her maid bending over her. It was not until the guards came to take Nithsdale back to his cell that the real maid was discovered huddled in a corner. We heard later that the
Maxwell’s
had escaped to Rome.

As a result of their deception, Alex was allowed no visitors but his valet. Bronson, coached in his part by all in Louisa's household and endlessly instructed by Uncle Harry, went to the Tower every day seeking admittance. And on the third day he gained it. He reported that Alex was well, not mistreated, and in good spirits. And that he wanted Gilbey to come at once. Money, Bronson reported, would gain all sorts of special favors, and he'd been able to smuggle some whisky in, for which Alex was very grateful. I watched the self-satisfied butler, knowing I was indebted to him for his efforts, and thanked him as graciously as I could. On my own, I redoubled my efforts to find Angus, and that night I hung a MacGannon plaid out my bedroom window in the hope that someone was watching.

I was very frustrated. I had written to the king and ministers and every member of Parliament that I had ever been introduced to, to no avail. Most never even answered my letters. I had asked my uncles to contact anyone who could assist us. With their intervention the officials listened more often, but nothing had really changed.
I’d
trudged from apartment to apartment, from office to office, waiting for hours to finally see some minor official who listened with boredom. Occasionally I would receive a cordial welcome and an introduction to the next level of official, and while that was always welcome
I’d
seen
no
results from my efforts. Nor my money, though I was lavish in my "gifts."

Will and Betty had returned to
Mount garden
and I missed my brother terribly. Louisa was always at my side, and Randolph and Harry had been kind and generous, but what I wanted was news from Angus. It was as though London had swallowed him. And then, two weeks after I'd seen Alex, on a warm, late summer evening, I received an invitation written in the Duchess's bold hand. The
Barrington’s
were having a party. Almost all of London had retired to the
country
for the summer, and the Duchess's affair heralded the new season and the return of society. I shook my head, but Louisa told me firmly that I would be going, saying I could not refuse her dear friend's invitation.

No one had visited me since my return to London except for the Duchess and for Rebecca's mother, Sarah, both as kind and welcoming as ever. While I was grateful to them for their friendship and loyalty, I was sure I would prove unable to spend a social evening in London. I held the Duchess's invitation in my hand and then threw it on the table. "I cannot. I will not."

Louisa retrieved the invitation. "Mary," she began, her tone threatening, but we were interrupted by a maid, who handed me a letter. She did not know who it was from, nor who had brought it, and said that no one was waiting for a reply. I held the note in my hand, my heart pounding as I recognized Angus's handwriting. He asked me to pay my respects to Elizabeth again tomorrow afternoon.

I went alone. And waited for two hours, anxiously walking around the Abbey, watching everyone who entered. I heard no voices this time as I wandered past the queens and the poets, merely my own turbulent thoughts, and I asked myself how I, Mary Lowell Mac-Gannon, had ended up pacing in

Westminster Abbey, waiting for my husband's kinsman to tell me of his plans to free my husband from the Tower of London. My husband, who I loved more than my life; my husband, considered a traitor to my country. How does one define loyalty? I waited another few minutes before dispiritedly walking outside, my head bowed, and almost bumped into a tall man at the door. I quickly stepped aside, then looked up at him in alarm as he grasped my arm. He wore English clothing and for a moment I did not recognize Gilbey. His whispered welcome was warm and I looked up into his smile.

"Gilbey," I said, embracing him. "Where is Angus? And Matthew? How are you all? Why haven't I heard from you?" Gilbey smiled down at me, but said nothing as he guided me to the street and into a coach which began moving as soon as the door closed.

Angus, seated opposite, gave me a subdued greeting as we sped along the bumpy streets. He looked drawn and weary and out of place here, and despite being dressed in English clothing,
very
much the Highlander. He nodded when I chastised him for not contacting me. "I apologize for all the secrecy, Mary, but ye ken we were betrayed in Edinburgh and I've no desires to repeat the incident. Ye've heard about Nithsdale." At my nod he continued. "Several of the English prisoners have been 'released' with help from friends and well- placed money. But the Scottish prisoners are going to be used as examples of what happens when a mere Gael defies the Crown." Our eyes met, his angry.

"I've seen Alex," I said and told them of my visit and of Alex's messages. Angus nodded but made no comment. Gilbey's face had lit when he'd heard that Alex had requested him as his valet, and he'd started asking questions, but Angus silenced him with a glance, then asked about the boys and my family. I told him they were all well, of Harry's interest in "another" plan and his insistence on seeing him. And then of the Duchess's invitation.