Kilgannon (21 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Givens

Tags: #Historical, #Scotland - Social Life and Customs - 18th Century, #Scotland - History - 1689-1745, #Scotland, #General, #Romance, #Historical Fiction, #England - Social Life and Customs - 18th Century, #Fiction, #Love Stories

BOOK: Kilgannon
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"Why is it, lass," he asked, pointing to the pictures, "that their lives seem so simple and uneventful and ours seem so beset with worries?" He walked on, looking at me over his shoulder. "What ye've heard is that my father went out in '88, no? And that I've been in France, Well, it's true."

"What is?" I trailed along behind him.

"That my father went out in '88." He smiled at my confused expression. "I mean that my father joined the Stewart faction that opposed King William taking over the throne of Scotland and England." He smiled wryly. "They lost Killiecrankie and the rebellion was over. My father signed the oath of allegiance to King William, and the MacGannons have kept his word. It's also true that I've been in France and that I've met James Stewart. I also have a cousin who lives in Paris, and throughout the war I have visited him. He married a French girl, and he's no Jacobite." He turned fully to me. "I have no intention of joining a rebellion, Mary, and certainly not for the Stewarts. They turned their backs on Scotland and I for one have never forgiven them, despite the fact that I do agree that James should still be king. But he's Catholic and England willna accept a Catholic king again, I'm thinking. James Stewart is no threat to us, lass. Put it out of yer mind," he said, and pulled me into his arms.

Alex was very proud of Kilgannon and told me much about it, drawing plans and sketches of the castle and grounds and explaining when the various parts had been built and what each generation had done to improve it. He confessed that he was the artist of the sketches he had sent, and that reminded him that his sons had sent letters and pictures to me. "Matthew helped Ian write his letters," he said as he handed them to me, "but Jamie was unaided, as ye'll see."

Dear Miss Lowell, wrote Ian in mismatched letters. My da says you may come here and live with us. That would be good Come soon. I smiled up at Alex. At least one of Alex's sons would welcome me. Jamie had drawn a picture that I could not identify and someone had signed his name to it. Alex shook his head.

"I could see nothing in it either, Mary, but he wanted to send something to ye and I told him I'd bring it."

"I'll have him explain it to me when I see him. But when will that be, Alex? When will we marry?"

He smiled. "Well, if ye agree, I thought I'd go home and come back for ye in a month. I need to get some things ready and post the banns, and I dinna know what yer wishes were. Do ye wish to wed here and then go to Kilgannon, or do ye wish to wed there? If we wed in Kilgannon it will be a Catholic ceremony. Will yer family object? Will ye object? I dinna ken what
you’d
want."

I smiled. "I want you, Alex."

He looked at me, startled, and after a moment gave me a slow smile in return. "Yer very direct, miss."

"Aye, Alex, I told ye. It saves time." He laughed with me. "What do you wish, my love? What are your feelings on this?"

"Well," he said, rubbing his chin. "If we marry in an English church it will make yer Family happy and it's sure to annoy some of the clan. If we do the reverse it will please the clan and will annoy yer family. I have no solution." He leaned back dispiritedly. "I dinna consider this fully. I had no idea it would be so complicated. No matter what we do we insult someone."

I smiled again. "It's simple, Alex." "No, Mary, simple it's not."

"Aye, Alex, simple it is." I kissed his cheek as he frowned.

"How is it simple, lass? I canna see simple in this."

"When you return to England we will marry in an English church so that my family can be with me. And then we go to Kilgannon and have your priest marry us. That way no one is offended. We marry with both families present and both religions represented."

He gave me a startled look. "Yer willing to do this?" "Yes. Are you?"

"I have no objection. Perhaps the priests will, but I think it's a good plan. Aye." He sat up straight. "Well, another month it will have to be. Unless, ye think—-" My protest was lost as he kissed me.

Alex left the next afternoon, and that night I could not sleep. I remembered my beautiful mother singing and my father's tender expression as he watched her, and Mother overseeing the fitting of my first
ball gown
. It was all gone now, and I was about to begin on my own. I had never missed them so much. Father would have talked to Alex and given his blessing, and Mother would have been everywhere. The tears trickled down my cheeks and I wiped them away with a sigh. Now life with Alex beckoned, and I was going to be his wife and live in another country with another people! Was I up to the task of becoming wife and mother and countess? Part of me wanted to be a little girl again, safe at Mountgarden with my parents and no decisions to make. I sighed again and thought of Alex laughing on the streets of London, in an inn worrying about the future of his country, lying ill in his boat, climbing a wall to find me, coming through a snowstorm to see me, saving my life. Alex standing alone in a ballroom filled with people. I suddenly realized he was as fearful as I and as vulnerable. But he was braver. He had openly and honestly pursued me., representing all of his drawbacks and never mentioning his attractions. He faced the disapproval and disdain of English society squarely and laughed. By becoming his wife I would forever join him in being an outsider in England. True, he was an earl and I would be his countess, but he would always be less, in the eyes of some, simply because he was Scottish. And what would I be? An Englishwoman married to a Scotsman was neither truly English nor Scots. Would the clan accept me? What was I doing? I shook my head. It was too late to be having second thoughts. All I had to do was think of never seeing him again and all my doubts faded. I thought of his blue eyes looking into mine and hugged myself, which was a poor substitute for his embrace. As long as Alex loved me I could face anything.

 

WHILE WE HAD PLANNED TO MARRY IN A SIMPLE CEREMONY at Mountgarden, but Louisa would have none of it, and though the time was short she planned an elaborate wedding in St. Rosemary's, followed by a lavish celebration at her home. Randolph, to my surprise, threw himself headlong into the preparations and beamed at me constantly. When I tried to thank him for all his generosity, he stopped my words with a wave, explaining that neither he nor Louisa had any children, that I'd become like a daughter to him, and that
he’d
grown fond of Alex. I kissed his cheek and hugged him and pretended not to notice that his eyes were suspiciously damp as I thanked him again. He patted my back and strode quickly away.

Louisa was in her element, planning every detail with her effortless skill, while I trailed along behind her. We talked constantly, and sometimes I caught her misty-eyed and I realized how much I would miss her. And how much we both missed my mother. Will was wonderful, doing whatever was needed. Betty was no help, of course, drifting in and out of rooms, leaving all the work to the rest of us, but I didn't mind, for we were not without assistance. Becca's mother came often to aid Louisa and took credit for seeing the good in Alex before anyone else. The Duchess, who was also with us constantly, argued that she was the only one in London who had seen what a fine man the Earl of Kilgannon was. They debated the point constantly.

A week before the wedding Alex and his family arrived. Malcolm, Angus, Matthew, and nine other men accompanied Alex. His Aunt Deirdre had stayed behind to take care of the details of our second wedding but had sent me a letter in which she graciously welcomed me into the MacGannon family. Nor did Alex bring his sons. When I asked him why, he said that this would be the only time
we’d
really be together, just us, and that he was anxious for our wedding night. My cheeks had flamed at his teasing. "Which willna be long, lass,"
he’d
said, "depending upon which of our weddings ye'll consider to be our real marriage."

"We'll be together as soon as we're married here, won't we?"

He deliberately misunderstood me. "No, that would be rude," he said. "We should wait until alter the meal. Yer aunt and uncle have gone to a great expense and effort, ye ken. We must visit with them and the guests a bit." He ignored my exclamation. "We must, Mary. It's only polite." I laughed.

At last we finalized our plans. After the wedding we would leave London. The MacGannons would sail to Bristol and wait for us there, while we spent the five days of our wedding trip in the Dower House of one of the Duchess's properties, this one in Wiltshire. She and the Duke had insisted that we stay there as part of their wedding gift, and we had gratefully accepted. From Wiltshire we would travel to meet my family and Gannon's Lady in Bristol before sailing north. The Kilgannon wedding would be held the day after we arrived, on a Wednesday for luck.

Matthew was enthusiastic, joining in the work so often that we all began to rely upon him. He and Will joked as though
they’d
known each other for years, and he listened to Randolph's stories with a respectful manner that endeared him to Louisa. Malcolm watched us with a patronizing air, looking always slightly bored.
He’d
not had one pleasant or encouraging thing to say. I ignored him most of the time and kept my thoughts to myself. Angus refused to be drawn into the plans as well, but he was courteous. Occasionally, though, I caught him watching me with a serious expression. He was Alex's shadow, apparently content to while away the hours as he waited, and when he was not with us, Matthew was. The rest of the MacGannons were unfailingly polite but rarely left Alex's side, often hovering near us when we talked. When my family commented on it to Alex, he shrugged and laughed, telling them he was a very important man.

Our wedding day dawned bright and clear. In the morning Louisa and I had one last wonderful conversation and cried as we talked about my mother. She gave me a pin my grandmother had worn on her wedding day, and I thanked her for all of her kindnesses over the years. She hushed me, but I knew she was pleased. I wore my mother's silk-and-lace wedding dress. The dress had had to be lengthened since I was much taller than my mother had been, but it was a beautiful gown and it brought a bit of her with me. I needed to believe she would have blessed this marriage, and I hoped ours would be as happy as my parents'. And as Becca's seemed to be. She and Lawrence had recently returned from the Continent, glowing with contentment. I was grateful to have her with me, for she was cheerful and reassuring, telling me I would love married life and laughing at my fears that I would prove inadequate as a wife.

At the church we were shown to the bride's suite of rooms overlooking the street below. I was much calmer than I would have imagined, or so I thought as I was dressed and my hair arranged with the advice of all in the room. But when Becca, who was sitting by the window, gestured for me to join her and see something, I nearly tripped over the hem of my gown, and my decorum was tilted even more when I saw what she was looking at. Alex, in the midst of the dozen MacGannons, was walking toward the church. He was the only one in English dress,, but he had a MacGannon plaid over his shoulder and his bonnet on his head. We had had much discussion about what he would wear. Alex said it did not matter. I wanted him in Highland dress, but Randolph and Louisa thought he should wear English clothes. In the end it was Matthew who had decided. "When in Rome ..." he'd said with a shrug, and that settled it. Alex stood below now, about to become my husband, wearing a gray velvet frock coat and breeches and a snow-white shirt. I could hear the bagpipes plainly and stood transfixed as the Scots approached the church, then stopped below us. Alex stood in the midst of the men, laughing. With Rebecca at my side I watched the men, the crowd around them curious but well behaved. Becca sighed.

"He is so handsome, Mary," she whispered, looking over her shoulder at her mother and my aunt. I agreed, thinking of her Lawrence, who was a wonderful man but very ordinary. There was nothing ordinary about Alex. "You do love the man and not just the handsome exterior?" She had asked me this a thousand times, and I answered as I had a thousand times, that I loved everything about him.

The church glowed with candles and I walked up the aisle on Randolph's arm in a dream, seeing only Alex waiting for me and my handsome brother with him. Dear Will, I thought. He had been adamant that he would stand with Alex to show all of London my family's support for this marriage. It was a gesture Alex had appreciated, and it made having Malcolm stand next to Alex bearable for me. Alex watched me reach him, his eyes dark and his expression intent, then took my hand with a nod to Randolph, and the ceremony began. Standing next to him at the altar, I was overwhelmed by the step I was taking. I do not remember the details of our marriage, only a church crowded with well-wishers and Alex by my side. I stole a look at him, wondering if he were as nervous as I. / will spend the rest of my life with this stronger, I thought, as he answered the priest's questions in a clear voice that carried. His expression was serene when he turned to look at me, and when our eyes met, he smiled and held my hand even tighter. I felt the knot inside me loosen and I smiled at him in return, able now to answer the priest's questions without falter. Alex put the ring that had been his mother's and grandmother's on my finger and kissed me. I was a married woman.

The reception at Louisa's was full of laughter. I was pleased that so many of London's elite had come to wish us well. Even my uncle Harry attended and seemed to enjoy himself very much, mingling with the crowd with ease, his laughter ringing above theirs. He spent much of his time with Alex's family, and I wondered how I had ever thought this amiable man strange. Harry commented that London seemed to approve of our match, and that did seem so. Louisa's invitations were rarely declined, and many came to the wedding because of her popularity. The merely curious came to see the ceremony and my dress and behavior, or to gape at Alex and his family, who did not disappoint. Taller than most of the other men, the twelve Scotsmen drew many glances. Alex was by far the handsomest, but Meg, now married herself, was very taken with Donald, Alex's cousin of some degree, a huge man, even bigger than Angus. So of course they called him wee Donald.

The afternoon was a blur of faces. Even those who came only to be able to gossip later behaved themselves admirably. When at last it was time for us to leave, Alex took a moment with his family and then with mine, as I did the same. Then we smiled into each other's eyes and climbed into Randolph's carriage. We arrived at the Dower House without incident and were greeted by the Duchess's efficient staff. As we were being shown around we stole glances at each other. We would soon be alone. At least in the house. I had brought no maid, at Alex's insistence, and he had no valet or personal servant, but Angus, Matthew, and wee Donald were in the bam. I had protested that
we’d
be safe, but Alex had been firm.

"There's nothing that ye dinna ken, Mary. I canna believe anyone would try to attack either of us here, but Angus will no' leave me here when my attention is not on my safety. And I've other things to occupy me." When
he’d
kissed me I had agreed without further argument.

The Duchess's staff was very thorough, but I thought they would never leave. A few moments later, however, at last alone in our bedroom, I felt shy and moved quietly, putting our things away while Alex watched me. I turned from folding my gloves to find him in front of me. He smiled. He had removed his shoes and stockings and the plaid
he’d
had over his shoulder. Now he took his jacket off, throwing it behind him, and loosened the lace at his neck.

"Mary," he said, wrapping one arm around my waist and drawing me to him. "I have been well behaved long enough." He kissed me and drew back to look at me. "Are ye afraid, lass?"

"Yes. No. I mean ..." I took a deep breath. "I'm terrified, Alex. But how can I tell you that?"

He laughed softly. "Ye just did. Come," he said, taking my hand and leading me to the fireplace. "I promise I'll not do anything ye don't want me to. I'm willing to wait until yer ready, Mary. We have the rest of our lives." I watched the light from the flames play across his cheek and I nodded. He pulled me to him then, my cheek on his chest as he stroked my back, leaning his head against my hair. He smelled like soap. "Dinna be afraid, lass. We'll go as fast as ye wish and as slow. This is a good thing we're about to do. Listen to yer body. Yer body kens what to do. Dinna think." I listened to the beating of his heart, and my fear receded. This was Alex. My husband. In the eyes of the world we were now one.

"And two shall become one," I said softly, raising my mouth to his, delighting as I always did in the feel of his lips on mine.

"I love ye, Mary." He kissed me gently, then more insistently, and reached up to pull the pins from my hair. As it fell over my shoulders he groaned and pulled me tighter against him. I could feel his body's readiness and my own response. Without a word he pulled his shirt loose from his pants and put my hand on his side under the material. I ran my fingers across the smooth skin of his side, then his back. Braver now, I brought my hands to his chest and tangled my fingers through the hair there. Blond hair, I knew, and brought my hands to his shirt to undo the fastenings. His breathing grew faster.

"Mary," he said huskily as I opened his shirt and pushed it from his shoulders. He let the shirt fall to the floor behind him and looked at my face as I stroked my hands across his chest, watching the shadows play on his skin as I moved my fingers. I leaned forward and kissed his neck, then his shoulders. He closed his eyes under my touch but opened them when I stepped back to look at him.

"You're magnificent, Alex," I said. "Absolutely magnificent." He shook his head and smiled, then leaned to kiss me as he pulled the lace loose from atop my bodice. I wrapped my arms around him and felt his skin against the tops of my breasts. Heaven, I thought. He opened each bodice fastening with slow, determined hands. I didn't stop him as he concentrated on the task, removing the top of the gown from my shoulders. He stood back from me then and leaned his head to one side as he studied me standing before him. My corset seemed restrictive, and I took a shuddery breath. He smiled and reached for the lacing.

"Alex," I said in a quavering voice as he slowly pulled one lace from its bindings.

"Look at ye, Mary," he said. "Look at how yer skin glows in firelight." He traced a finger across the tops of my breasts. "Yer so beautiful, Mary MacGannon. Wife." He kissed me again, then drew back. "I have waited so long for this. Let me look at ye, lass." He pulled the second lace from my corset and it sprang open. I closed my eyes when first his hands, then his lips, touched my breasts. I don't remember my shift leaving me, but it must have, for his hands were on my breasts, my back, my neck, and I was pulling him even closer. The feel of his chest on mine made me gasp and open my eyes. I ran my hands across his back and pulled his hair loose, letting it fall across his shoulders and my hands.

When he reached for the waist of my gown I showed him how to loosen it, then laughed when he looked askance at the number of petticoats I wore. "This may take the whole five days," he growled, and I laughed again, realizing that I was no longer afraid. I stepped out of each petticoat as he pulled it to the floor, then watched without breathing when he slowly undid my garters and rolled the stockings down my legs, his hands lingering on my thighs before caressing my calves. I blushed when he stepped back to look upon me, naked for the first time before any man.

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