The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (27 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Givens

Tags: #England, #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: The Wild Rose of Kilgannon
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I sat up and faced him, pulling the blanket to my throat. It will always matter to me, Alex."

"It will fade," he said
quietly
.

"No."

"Make it fade, Mary."

I shook my head furiously. "No. Never. Never, Alex. I will never let you go. You promised to be with me always."

"I canna change that I am to die."

"Then come to me after death. If it is possible, come to me. Promise me. Promise me!" I heard my shrill voice ring against the stones. His mouth twisted and he reached for me again. I could feel his ragged breath as he held me and I tightened my arms.

"I'll never deny ye anything, lass. If it is possible, I will come to ye." I nodded then, satisfied with what little I had.

The boys were allowed to see Alex the next day, brought by Gilbey, who met our questions as to how long I'd be staying with shrugs. And he brought me fresh clothes and toiletries. "DeBroun suggested it, Mary," he said
quietly
to me while Alex sat with his sons across the room.

"Do they mean to allow me to remain?" He shrugged. "Louisa is
very
troubled, but Harry says ye'll come to no harm here. They all say to tell ye the boys will be fine and no' to worry about them. And yer brother promises to no cause a stink as long as yer well. Have the people here told ye nothing?"

"No. When they brought more food they would not talk. What can this be?"

Gilbey
looked at my dishevelment and gave me a quick grin. "I'd say you were a persuasion, Mary, for good
behaviour
." I smiled wryly, ignoring my flaming cheeks.
Gilbey
looked over at Alex and then met my eyes. "Enjoy this time. Ye ken Alex will tell them nothing." I nodded.

We had a week.
Gilbey
visited each day and brought us news. And more. He brought maps and charts and sat with Alex at the table, poring over them when they thought I slept in the afternoon. I lay in the bed, shielded by the hangings, and listened.

"Here,
Gilbey
," Alex said, and I raised myself up on one elbow and watched through the gap in the hangings. Alex was pointing to a spot on the map before them. "This is the best place. They'll bring me past here if I'm to hang on Tower Hill, so ye'll have to be hiding among the crowd right here. Any further and the soldiers will be able to be more abreast. But right here they'll have to narrow down to one or two on each side. Tell Angus."

"Aye,"
Gilbey
said. "If it's Tower Hill. What if they decide not to hang you there? What if they bring ye to Newgate?" They both looked up at my gasp, and
Gilbey
took a step back from the table as I clambered from the bed and approached them.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Planning how to be rescued, lass," Alex said evenly. "On the way to my execution." I sank into a chair and looked at the map before us, then nodded at them. Alex looked up at
Gilbey
. "Aye, lad, we'll look at that as well." He met my eyes. "
Mary
," he said, "I'm trying to plan for any eventuality. When they take ye from me, and ye ken they will, I want ye to get out of London. Yer being here will give the English a target. They ken yer our weakness, ye and the boys. Get yerself out of the line of fire." When I didn't respond he frowned. "Mary..."

"They may not hang you, Alex," I said and he frowned again.

"What d'ye mean?"

"What if they give you transportation to the colonies or Barbados? How will Angus rescue you then?"

Alex laughed. "We'd no' thought of that, lass," Alex said and glanced at Gilbey. "Next time bring the charts of the Thames and offshore."

Gilbey nodded.

The fourth day of my stay, Alex was taken for "questioning."

 

I
SAT IN A CHAIR BY THE WINDOW AND TRIED NOT TO think of what could be happening to him. How could Edgar DeBroun talk to me so smoothly of "persuasion" at the Duchess's house and be the same man who oversaw the batterings that Alex had endured?

He was gone for two hours and when he returned walked stiffly into the room and waited while the guar
ds closed the door behind him. I’
d risen to go to him, but he shook his head and limped over to the table, sinking into a chair and staring into the distance. I sat opposite him, watching the new
weal
on his neck grow redder.

"Alex," I said at last and his eyes shifted to meet mine. "Tell them. Tell them what you know, or what you suspect. Tell them, for God's sake!"

He shook his head and winced. "No," he whispered, his voice a croak. I went to him then and knelt before him, pulling the neckline of his shirt away from his skin. It was as I'd suspected.

"What have they done to you?"

He almost smiled. "Practiced, lass."

"Practiced? Practiced what, Alex? This looks like they tried to hang you."

"Aye," he said. "Perhaps they're no' sure of the procedure."

I rose and stepped back from him. "It's not amusing, Alex."

He shook his head and smiled. "No, lass, no' amusing at all."

"Then why do you smile?"

"I win when I resist them, Mary. I win."

I crossed the room, heading for the door. "Then I'll tell them, Alex. I'll not allow them to do this to you. I'll tell them what I know."

He was to the door before me, his eyes blazing as he drew himself to his full height. "Ye'll tell them nothing, Mary. Ye'll tell them nothing. This is unimportant."

"Unimportant," I gasped. "Unimportant. They 'practice' hanging you and it doesn't matter?"

He shook his head. "Do ye no' see,
Mary
? If I tell them nothing they'll kill me. And if I tell them what little I ken, or guess, they'll use that information to kill the others and then they'll kill me. I'll no' be a party to it. I'll tell them nothing and neither will ye."

I collapsed against his chest. "Alex," I sobbed. "I cannot bear to see you like this. Tell them. I cannot bear it."

He wrapped an arm around me and kissed my hair. "Dinna fret, Mary Rose. It willna be much longer."

The next day Gilbey smuggled in the sea charts, and the three of us studied them for possible sites appropriate for ambushing ships headed out to sea from London. And later that afternoon Alex was taken for questioning again. When he returned, barely able to stand, I pleaded with him again that he should tell them what he knew. He shook his head and wouldn't answer me, merely crawled into bed and closed his eyes. It was a very long night.

We were left alone then for two days, without "questioning," without Gilbey. We knew it was a ploy, that Alex was being shown his choices quite explicitly. Life in the Tower of London could be confining but comfortable, or it could be hell. We'd also had no news of Murdoch with Gilbey's absence, and Alex brooded about that. I prayed for Murdoch, feeling guilty that Alex was here with me.

And on the seventh day of my visit the man who brought us our breakfast also brought the news that I was to leave by ten. He would tell me nothing else. I had packed my
meagre
possessions and Alex and I were together on the edge of the bed, hand in hand, when they came to escort me out. I rose, determined to appear calm, and, as we'd practiced, kissed Alex
lightly
and

smiled as I bid him farewell. It was pride, we'd decided, that was the only thing they could not take from us.

But it was not pride I felt when I followed the guard to the courtyard and then to the streets, leaving the Tower behind me. I felt sickened, unable to face what would come next. I retreated to Louisa's and to the comfort of her sympathy and the cheer Alex's sons brought me. It would have to be enough.

Three days after my return, Angus sent a note asking me to meet him. We followed the same pattern as before. I wandered around the Abbey until Matthew found me, and then we rode in a coach while I visited with Angus. But this time Angus was not alone. Duncan Maclean was with him.

I embraced him with joy but Duncan did not return my smile. He was an embittered man and snarled as he told me his story. The Maclean clan had rallied after Alex and Murdoch had sailed to London and, with the help of ready coin, Duncan had been allowed to "escape" from Edinburgh. He had stolen across
Scotland
with his kinsmen and eventually returned to Maclean territory, where they found the burnt remains of their home and the graves of Morag and his mother. Both women were murdered, they'd been told, by English troops. Morag, I thought.

Since then Duncan had been on the run, living on the charity of Jacobite sympathizers and plotting the escape of his brother. Upon his arrival in London, he was told of Murdoch's conviction and he now swore vengeance on DeBroun. I did not know how to respond to his bitter manner and sad
story
, but I told him how sorry I was. He asked about Alex and listened carefully when I told him what had happened during my stay, of DeBroun's interest in him and the others, and Alex's refusal to tell him anything. I told them of the trial date and everything else I could think of that would be of interest to them.

Angus, who had spent most of the time moodily staring out the window, met my eyes then and I knew I did not need to ask how he'd been. His silence was tangible and it was with a heavy heart that I stepped down from the coach. Angus followed me. "
Mary
," he said. "I ken yer distraught about DeBroun's treatment of Alex."

"I am," I said, guessing what was next.

"And ..." He looked over my head at the coach behind us. "And now ye ken where Duncan is."

"Don't insult me by saying it, Angus," I said heatedly.

"I was going to tell ye ..."

"That I now have it in my power to go to DeBroun and tell him Duncan's in London. And barter the information for Alex. I find your suggestion insulting."

He shook his head, then laughed. "I was going to warn ye to be extra careful, lass. Ye may be being followed and if they find ye've seen Duncan ye could be back in the Tower as a prisoner yerself. Yer in danger as well as us,
Mary
."

"Oh," I said, chagrined. "Well. Thank you for the warning." I smiled. "And for your faith in me."

"I took yer measure long ago, Mary MacGannon.
Ye'll do
."

"Thank you, Angus," I said, and he laughed again as he climbed into the coach.

"Take care, lassie. Ye have the future of the
MacGannons
in yer charge. Take good care of the four of ye."

"I will," I said and turned to follow Matthew to Louisa's coach.

A moment later, outside the Abbey doors, Matthew paused. "
Mary
, I went to Kilgannon to check on things," he said. "And to Edinburgh."

I fought the longing to be home that swept over me. "How is everyone? Ellen and Dougall and Thomas and Murreal, and Berta?"

"They are well. All are well. Ye ken Dougall. He'll
no’
let anyone approach the inner loch or through the pass, though both
apparently
have been tried. The people are doing well enough, all things considered. Ellen sends her love and the message that she is with child."

" Oh! How
wonderful
!"

"Aye." He smiled at my expression and then glanced around. "Mary, I saw Robert Campbell."

"Robert?" I looked around us. "Where?"

"No,
no’
here. In Edinburgh. Robert told me to tell you ..." He looked over my head. "He said to wish you well."

"He is still in Edinburgh?"

"For a bit longer. Then he is coming to London. He said he'll be here for the trial."

My anger was immediate. "Why? Is he coming to gloat?"

Matthew looked at me for a long moment and then a slow smile blossomed. "And I feared he had some hold on you."

I took a deep breath. "Robert was a friend when I needed one, Matthew, nothing more. And despite all his kindnesses I will never forget that he was the one to take Alex to Edinburgh."

"So he was and I'll
no
forget it either. Care for yourself, Mary," he said as he ushered me into the coach. "I must be gone."

I bid him farewell, then leaned back against the cushions with the growing belief that I was not going to be able to stop it, any of it, not the trial, not whatever Angus, Duncan, and Harry were planning, not DeBroun, nor Alex's headlong plunge to his own death, nor Robert coming to London to watch it. These men, all of them, were going to persist and I was powerless to prevent whatever was going to happen. I closed my eyes and let the coach bring me home.

At Louisa's I had intended to slip upstairs
quietly
but was caught with one foot on the first step by Ian and Jamie and the dogs. I sighed to myself. The solitude and quiet I had sought would not be mine now, but then Jamie threw his arms around me while Ian showed me the sums he had worked on all afternoon and I forgot my exhaustion and tumbled emotions. I let them lead me to the library, where we had tea and the boys filled the room with their chatter while the dogs nudged against me, looking for attention. This is what is Important, Mary, I told myself. Nothing else matters but these two boys and the baby. And their father. And the blessed dogs. Robert the Bruce knocked a teacup over with his tail, and Jamie scrambled to clean up the mess. William Wallace decided he needed to see what had happened, and I sat back against the cushions and watched the uproar as boys and dogs met porcelain and silver. Fortunately we had the disorder straightened before Louisa and Randolph joined us, followed by Uncle Harry talking over his shoulder to Kenneth Ogilvie behind him. The boys leapt to their feet to greet everyone, and the dogs began barking. We all shushed them at the same time. Kenneth Ogilvie watched the chaos and met my eyes, his full of amusement and

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