Kilgannon (37 page)

And then in the middle of June, a week before the summer solstice, I lost this child as well. I had stood in May with Alex on Beltane morning and watched the bonfires burn on the hills surrounding us as he explained the custom and the ancient beliefs. I had marveled then that these people could harbor such primal fears and superstitions. But at dawn six weeks later, on the summer solstice, I admitted to myself that if I had thought the ceremonies taking place in quiet glens and meadows would help me keep a child, I would have joined the celebrants without a qualm. Last year, I knew, these same dates had been celebrated, but I had been too new to Scotland and too enraptured with my new life to notice that half the staff and most of the clansmen were nowhere to be found. And that they returned, exhausted, to stumble through the day. Alex turned a blind eye to these celebrations, although, he explained to me, he did not believe in the old superstitions or customs.

"But, lassie" he'd said. "I've been educated and I ken that there's a world beyond Kilgannon. Some of these people have never been off MacGannon land and will never see anywhere else. I willna take away their customs. As long as they dinna harm anyone it's best to let them follow the old ways as well. Now, if they decide to start sacrificing humans again, we'll have to discuss it." He had laughed at my expression, then shrugged. "I have two choices. Leave them as they are and try to change the little things, or get their backs up and nothing will ever change and we'll always be doing things as our great-great-grandfathers did. I decided years ago to change the small things and let them have their beliefs. It's a compromise, lass, and one I can live with. They'll listen to my ideas for new crops or something else to try, but I'd better not tell them what to think." He grinned at me. "Of course, I am open to all new ideas and suggestions myself, so I dinna understand their resistance." I had shaken my head and decided not to think about how very different this was than London.

London. I had wanted so much to visit. And on the day that I lost this latest child, as I stared at the bed hangings and waited for Alex to come to me, I decided that the best thing for me was to go home. No, not home anymore, I corrected myself, for Kilgannon was home now. But I wanted to go to London, to hear only English, to eat food I relished, to visit with friends, to see a play or an opera. But most of all I wanted to see Louisa. And a doctor.

Alex exploded into the room, his expression alarmed, and I burst into tears at the sight of him. I didn't have to tell him what had happened. He gathered me to him, his tears mingling with mine at this new loss. Later I asked him to take me to London as we had originally planned. After his worried comments about whether it was wise for me to travel, I told him I wanted to see a doctor and my aunt. We left three days later.

LONDON, AFTER THE QUIET AND ISOLATION OF KILGANNON, it seemed even more boisterous and chaotic than I had remembered, and I felt out of place. No, not: out of place, I felt remote from London. My clothes were out of fashion and I didn't care. The gossip swirled around me and I didn't know the names. The politics bored me for the most part, and I thought of the many hours I had spent listening to the discussions and then dining with those who had been discussed so thoroughly. Those days were gone. Randolph's power was seriously diminished and, I was discovering, so was that of most of the men I had known as influential. The Whigs had won the war of persuasion for Queen Anne's ear. Although it was difficult for my friends and family, I could feel no resentment toward her. Any woman who had lost her husband and seventeen children was a woman I could sympathize with. Her health was failing, and London dissected every symptom.

Feeling ran high about the succession, although no one had any doubts what would happen. Sophia, the Electorate, had died, and it was assumed that her son George of Hanover would be king when Anne died. Those in England who felt that the first son should inherit were outraged, since by that notion only James Stewart could be the next king. Others were just as outraged at the idea of a Catholic king. Given

England's history with Protestants succeeding Catholics and the reverse, it was not surprising that emotions were elevated. I longed for a country in which religion was not such a divisive factor. But I realized, listening to my uncles and their friends, that the struggle really was not about religion. It was about power. And money. What else? I thought.

I paid little attention to politics and basked in Louisa's welcome and attentions. She grieved with me, and although Randolph never mentioned my losses, he would often seek me out and hold my hand without speaking. I was grateful to both of them and told them so, but as always, they waved my words away. We saw Will and Betty, of course, and Will confided that he understood our grief, for Betty had never conceived. We wondered together if Will and I were the last of the Lowells. Uncle Harry would not listen to one word of sorrow or regret and kept telling me to smile and to count my blessings. While I enjoyed his cheerful company, I often wondered if he had any understanding of our pain. No, I thought, as I watched him laugh with Alex, he does not know what we've suffered. I saw the underlying sadness in my husband's eyes as he glanced at me with a smile, but Harry never seemed to notice.

We were busy, our visit full of social engagements. Alex and I dined with the Duke and Duchess, who were as welcoming as ever, and listened to Duke John bemoan his loss of political power. And we accompanied them to other evenings, including one hosted by Lady Wilmington. At her request Alex wore Highland dress that night, his accent noticeably stronger. When I teased him about becoming a parody of himself he grinned at me. "I couldna refuse her, lass, and the others have to be polite," he said. "If they think to ignore the Scots, I willna make it easy for them."

I shook my head at him and went to join Louisa. She never changes, I thought with affection as I listened to her skillful evasion of Madeline Shearson's questions. I watched Katherine watch Alex and turned with a start when Madeline said my name.

"Pardon me?" I said.

She simpered. "I said, Lord Robert Campbell is most visible in London now and very influential these days. What a shame that your husband is not a Member of Parliament as Lord Campbell is."

"I'm delighted that he's not, madam, for he is home with me."

"Yes, of course." She nodded. "Have you seen Lord Campbell?"

"Not yet." I tried not to let the note of annoyance creep into my tone. How very like her to play this game. "But I'm sure our paths will cross during our visit."

"Of course." She smiled and turned the topic to some unfortunate young girl who had been whisked off to a relative's home. While Madeline speculated who the father was, I thought of Robert. I did not expect to see him in London, for Robert was with his cousin Argyll, and Argyll had switched his allegiance again. A year ago he had opposed the Union, daring the Crown's displeasure, but now he was currying favor with the Whigs and finding it. No, our paths would not cross. Robert did not move in the same circles as we did these days. Which was as well.

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough, I thought, but later at Louisa's, as we sat discussing the evening, Randolph complained about a snub to Alex. Alex laughed and told Randolph to pay it no mind. "It was rude, Kilgannon," my uncle said. "I would not have thought it possible that someone would behave so abominably. It was very surprising."

"What happened?" I looked from Randolph to Alex, who shrugged and sipped his whisky. Alex had sent several cases of whisky home with Randolph and Will after they had praised it at Christmas, and one of the benefits was that he had a ready supply when he visited. Alex held the glass before him now and studied it.

"Some rude Whig refused to shake Kilgannon's
hand, “said
Randolph, shaking his head in disgust. "It was an awkward moment."

"Why would he do that?" I asked, and Louisa sighed this time.

"I told you that feelings were running very high, Mary," she said. "There are many in London who believe that the Jacobites are waiting for Anne to die and planning an attack on London."

"That's ridiculous," I exclaimed, and Alex met my eyes.

"Of course it is," Louisa said in a soothing tone, "but ignorant people who are frightened are dangerous." She looked at Alex. "I suggest that you wear English clothing while you're here."

He shifted in his chair and met her look. "I will not. Even if I did, I have only to open my mouth and they all ken who I am. I have Angus and Matthew with me at all times. And a ship full of men a short distance away."

"It makes no difference, Louisa," said Randolph. "Look at him. He looks like a Scot."

"I look like a Gael," said Alex flatly.

"I am thinking of my niece's welfare as well as yours," Louisa said icily. "And I think it a small request, Alex." After a moment Alex laughed and agreed to wear the English clothing.

"And Angus and Matthew when they're with you," Louisa said.

"And Angus and Matthew," Alex echoed. Louisa nodded.

Later, alone in our room, I asked Alex if his feelings had been hurt by the snub, and he smiled at me. "I dinna let other people's view of me influence me, lass. What does it matter what they think?! think their venom is due to jealousy that the most beautiful woman in the room was on the arm of a barbarian."

"I love you, Alex," I said, and he grinned and reached for me.

"I ken ye do, Mary," he said. "And I encourage it."

The next afternoon was cold and cloudy, and I went to visit Janice and Meg. I marveled again at Janice's constant biting remarks and at Meg's sweet disposition. The visit was amiable enough for the most part, but I realized how much I missed Becca. The four of us who had once been inseparable were now all married, Rebecca and I far from home, and Meg was drifting away from Janice's incessantly disagreeable behavior. I will not miss Janice, I thought, and Meg is, well, Meg is sweet. But boring. I was delighted to have Alex announced, and I departed with him feeling that I had little in London in the way of friends to hold me.

That night we dined at the Mayfair
Bartlett’s
. I had hoped to avoid them this visit, but it was too much to expect. The evening was, as theirs always were, well attended, a very mixed company. Rowena was there—without her marquis— on the arm of Edmund Bartlett, and she smiled distantly when we joined them. Across the room the Duke and Duchess talked with Becca's parents, and Louisa and Randolph had just drifted down the hall when Rowena gave a mew of pleasure and a surprisingly throaty laugh.

"Well, well," she said to Edmund, "look who's here," and pointed at the group that had just arrived and stood in the doorway chatting with Edmund's parents. "Isn't that Lord Campbell?"

Alex and I turned together to look just as Robert and the woman on his arm walked away from the
Bartlett’s
. Rowena waved to attract their attention. Next to me Alex stiffened as Robert, with a word to his companion, headed in our direction. I made a silent prayer and cursed Rowena. Robert looked the same and I realized, with the clarity that a year's absence brings, how very handsome he was. He seemed taller and more imposing than I'd remembered and was dressed as exquisitely as ever, this time in a chocolate-colored jacket and brilliant white shirt that set his coloring off well. I was suddenly aware that my rose dress, so fashionable two years ago, might seemed dated now. I nodded when he bowed to me and met his eyes hesitantly. I need not have feared his rancor. I'd expected reproach or bitterness, but to my dismay his gaze was warmer than I'd ever seen. Some things, it seemed, had not changed with a year's separation. I felt Alex watching us and my cheeks flush as Robert greeted Edmund and Rowena politely, then turned to us.

"Kilgannon, Lady Kilgannon, may I present Miss Buchanan?" he asked smoothly, and I breathed again. How could I have forgotten Robert's impeccable manners? He gave his companion a quiet smile. The young woman—a girl, really—looked confused.

"Lady Kilgannon was formerly Miss Mary Lowell," Rowena said, and I saw the recognition register in Miss Buchanan's eyes. Slim and dark, she was lovely and obviously very taken with Robert, for she looked to him for guidance with each remark. She glanced at him now before making a pretty curtsy to us.

Alex bowed in return and I nodded my head. "Miss Buchanan, it is a pleasure to meet ye," Alex said with a smile, his voice so calm that I gave him a sharp glance, but his expression gave nothing away. I smiled at her the best I could, but I'm sure it was only a hideous caricature of a welcome. Next to her Robert stood immobile, watching me. I did not look at him.

"Robert," Alex said quietly, extending his hand. "How are ye?" As Robert clasped Alex's hand their eyes met for a long moment, then Alex laughed and released Robert's hand. "We were rivals for my wife's attentions, Miss Buchanan," he said cheerfully. "It seems a long time ago."

Edmund Bartlett snickered and Rowena watched attentively, but Robert smiled placidly and nodded. "Yes, it does," he said, and turned to me. "Mary," he said. "How are you?"

"I am well, thank you, Robert," I said, my voice sounding strained. "And your mother?"

To my surprise Robert laughed. My mother sends her best." He looked from me to Alex. "What brings you to London?"

Alex nodded at me. "Mary wanted a visit with her aunt and uncle. Ye ken how fond she is of them and they of her. And it's been a bit since we've been here."