The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (42 page)

The baby brought me back to the present with a whimper, and I watched Alex get up and lean over his son with a smile, the first rays of morning lighting his hair in the dim cabin. "Mary," he said as he bundled the baby up and brought him to me, "tell me again what ye named him. Seems like a lot of names for a wee one."

"Alexander Robert Harold Lowell Keith MacGannon." I smiled and sat up to take my son. "And your name is just as long. MacGannon because it's your family name. And his. And just before that is his grandmother's family name, and just before that his mother's family name. I named him after you and my father and Uncle Harry. And," I sighed, "if I had known we'd lose Angus..."

Alex nodded, his mood growing
sombre
. "Aye," he said and took a deep breath. "
Mary
," he began and my heart froze. I knew that tone of voice. There was something he hadn't told me.

"What? What is it, Alex?"

He frowned to himself, then met my eyes. "I'm sending ye home with the Mary Rose, lass. And the boys as well."

"And where will you be?" When he did not answer immediately, I stiffened. "Alex, where will you be?"

"Going back for DeBroun."

I stared at him
open-mouthed
, then closed my mouth and raised my chin, furious. "Alex, we have just moved heaven and earth to get us all safely out of London. What in God's name do you think you can accomplish?"

"Mary, Matthew willna leave London without finding DeBroun. And Dougall's with him.
Apparently
Angus asked them to kill DeBroun. And I'll be damned if I'm
no’ part
of it."

"How will you find him?"

"Duke John's men have found him." He looked down as his son stirred, his expression softening as he gazed at the baby.

"What are you going to do?"

He rubbed his neck, drawing my eyes to the scars he still bore from DeBroun's "questioning." His voice was quiet. "Do ye see these, lass?" I nodded. "I owe DeBroun, Mary. For this. I owe him for having Murdoch and me beaten and then going off to parties and telling the stories, and for coming back the next day and telling us how the people laughed when they heard his tales. I owe him for asking ye to be his mistress while he battered me for his amusement; for frightening ye into thinking he'd treat me with kindness in exchange for yer body. Yer my wife, carrying my child, a defenseless woman, and the bastard is making arrangements to have ye when I'm dead. He's a bully, lass. And a murderer. He's the reason Harry's dead. And he killed Angus in cold blood, and Duncan as well. In front of ye. I'm not forgetting any of it. I owe him. Even if Angus hadna asked Matthew and Dougall to kill him, I would ha' done it. But with Angus asking ... well, let's just say I'm no' running for home until it's done."

I sank back against the cushions and studied him. I knew this mood. And this man. "What if I asked you not to do this?"

"It would make no difference."

"Alex," I said, feeling my temper rise, "what will this do? Will this bring Angus back to life? Or Duncan? Will it erase the scars on your neck, or all the other scars he's responsible for? Will it erase the memories of what you've been through?"

He shook his head. "No. And
Mary
, it willna erase the memories ye have either. Nothing will change any of that."

"I see. So you think this is the answer."

"Aye."

"When are you going?"

"Now. I'm meeting Matthew and Dougall." I put Robbie down carefully and climbed out of the berth, standing in front of Alex.

"Tell me you're not that foolish. Alex, this is madness. We're on our way home. What can this accomplish but risking your life again? And this time Matthew's and
Dougal’s
as well?"

"It's justice."

"Justice? It's foolhardy! I forbid you to do this!" As soon as the words had been uttered, I knew they were a mistake. He smiled slowly, then reached for his clothes and began to dress. "Alex?" When he ignored me, I put a hand on his arm, stopping him in the act of putting his shirt on. "Alex, talk to me." When he did not answer again, I stepped back and watched him dress.

"Alex," I said at last, "how can you succeed? De-Broun will have half the English army protecting him. How can three men get through his defenses?"

"It willna be a
battle
, lass." He met my eyes and raised his chin. "I've
already
sent word to him. It's a duel."

I stared at him, horrified. "Have you gone mad?" I whispered.

"Perhaps," he said and moved past me.

I beat him to the door and threw my arms wide to prevent him from leaving. "No! Alex, don't do this. It is madness! It is lunacy!"

He shook his head. "No, Mary Rose, it's the fairest thing I could have done with the man. I could have killed him in his bed or attacked him on the street. Instead I'd doing what Harry would have done. Harry canna do it, so it's my turn. I willna kill the man in a cowardly way, lass, but he'll be as dead. And die with the knowledge of who it was put the sword in his heart." He kissed my forehead and moved me out of the way. "I'll see ye in
Scotland
, Mary," he said and was gone.

I
STARED AFTER HIM. THEN TURNED TO LOOK AROUND the cabin. One baby, sound asleep on a berth, a pile of my clothes on the floor next to the bed, and charts and maps on the table in the center of the cabin. No weapons. No sense to this. I moved slowly, as though in a dream, and dressed for traveling. Outside there were the noises of men moving on the dock and then silence. Alex must
be gone
, I thought, and looked out the window. Gannon's Lady was berthed beside us. Somewhere east of London, I thought, looking across the river, but still west of Greenwich. Damn fool, I thought, with a lurch of my heart. I was right. This Is madness.

I opened the cabin door to find wee Donald blocking my way. "I thought you were with the boys," I said.

"They're fine, Mary," he answered. "They're still asleep. Alex told me to make sure ye dinna leave the ship."

"I see," I said and closed the door. Pacing the cabin, I thought furiously. There were three children to be cared for and I was the only woman. But I would not stay here and wait to discover if my husband was alive or dead. I'd had enough of that in my life. I put a bag of money in one pocket and sat at the table, waiting for
time
to pass. Then I opened the door again.

"Donald," I said when he turned to me. "Have my trunks been brought over from Gannon '
s Lady yet
?"

Donald shrugged. "I dinna think so, Mary."

I frowned. "I need clean clothes." I glanced back at the cabin as though trying to decide what to do, then back at Donald. "Will you watch the baby while I go and get something else to wear? We can bring the trunks over later, but I won't spend another day in these clothes."

"I dinna think that's a good idea,
Mary
," Donald said. "Alex said no' to let ye leave."

I frowned. "To Gannon's Lady Donald, either you can go and get what you think I need, or I can go and get
exactly
what I need. It makes no sense for you to go digging through my trunks. Gannon's Lady is next to us. It won't take me long."

It took me another few
minutes
to convince him, but I soon was on deck, talking with the men, and in another minute, on the dock, walking away from the
Mary
Rose with a pounding heart. I turned the corner before any of the men realized what I'd done. And kept walking, ignoring the curious looks I received. Wapping. I was in Wapping. Not the best part of town, but at least I knew where I was and how to get where I needed to be.

DeBroun's house was empty and his staff wide-eyed with terror. They answered my questions with stiff nods and excited gestures. Yes, the Scots had been here. But Lord DeBroun was not here. He was at Lord Webster's house. I climbed back into my hired carriage with a feeling of destiny. I should have known.

And it was with that same feeling of having already known what would happen that I stood beside the coach a few minutes later, watching men
battle
the fire that raged in Judge Webster's mansion. All the people had been roused from their beds, an excited neighbor told me, at
sword point
, and told to get outside. And then an army of Highlanders had set the house ablaze and had carried off Lord DeBroun. At first no one seemed to know where they'd gone, but a coin to a sly young man had gotten me the information I needed.

I went on foot, passing the streams of people going the opposite way. London never took fire lightly, not even fifty years after the Great Fire. Webster's house would be attracting the attention of people for miles around, for fire was everyone's enemy. No one spoke to me as I passed, and I was grateful for that. I was just one more hurrying woman in a cloak this cold morning, and no one knew that my heart was pounding with fear.

The churchyard was where I'd remembered, the walls still shrouding the quiet spot. It was a surprisingly large plot of land, surrounded on one side by the ruins of a church burned down in the Fire and never rebuilt, and on the other three by tall walls that hid it from the city. I had shown it to Alex on one of our visits, commenting that this was one of my
favourite
secret spots in London, for no one seemed to have remembered it, and it amazed me to find such a peaceful corner in the middle of all the
bustle
of London. He'd smiled but had not commented, and I had thought he'd forgotten it until that sly boy told me where to find him.

They were here, but they didn't see me enter through the side gate. Alex stood in the center of the garden,
mostly
dirt now, and faced Edgar DeBroun with a grim smile, his sword in his hand. Matthew stood at his side and Dougall behind Matthew. And behind Dougall ten other Kilgannon men, Thomas among them. I should have realized they'd all be here. If Dougall or Thomas had seen me this morning,
I'd
still be on the Mary Rose.

DeBroun was not alone either. Behind him was an assorted band of men, looking hastily dressed and terrified. DeBroun, his expression haughty, had a sword in his hand as well. He reached behind his back, under his coat, to adjust something, then bowed mockingly and saluted Alex with the tip of his sword. And across the garden Matthew met my eyes, but said nothing.

Alex, hatless and wearing only a white shirt and his kilt, grinned and tossed his head. "DeBroun," he said cheerfully, "prepare to die."

"I'll see you in hell," DeBroun said and lunged forward.

"Sir," Alex said, "I insist you go first." He parried the thrust and the two battled, Alex going forward, then back.

Alex laughed when he drew the first blood, a stripe down DeBroun's cheek, and smiled when DeBroun backed him into a bush. He lunged forward, forcing DeBroun backward in rapid
little
steps, while Alex grinned and said something that made DeBroun curse. Alex sidestepped, then spun around as DeBroun's swipes grew more ragged and desperate. Alex was concentrating now, his expression hardening as he backed DeBroun against the wall. And leaned into DeBroun's face, talking quietly. Alex pushed himself backward and let DeBroun regain his feet, then began the process anew. The only sound now was their ragged breathing and the horrible slither and clanging of steel on steel. Alex was getting tired.

I looked across the garden,
silently
pleading with Matthew to intervene, but Matthew watched the
battle
with a grim expression and crossed his arms over his chest. DeBroun backed Alex onto a pathway and Alex missed his footing, spinning aside just as DeBroun's blade lowered. As he turned, Alex saw me and exclaimed, losing his concentration, and DeBroun's sword grazed his arm. I cried out, bringing the attention of the watchers to me, while Alex threw himself out of DeBroun's reach. They
battled
anew, Alex's arm bleeding now and both men visibly weary.

Alex backed DeBroun across the garden and DeBroun tried a savage kick, which Alex blocked. With a snap of his arm Alex broke DeBroun's grip on his sword and the blade clattered to the ground beside them. Alex brought his blade to DeBroun's throat.

"Say a prayer, Edgar," Alex snarled. "Is that no' what ye said to me in the Tower? 'Say a prayer'? I was unarmed then. How does it feel, Edgar? No' as much fun to hear it as to say it, eh?"

DeBroun took a step backward, then reached beneath his coat. And brought a pistol out. Matthew lunged forward, Dougall at his side. DeBroun raised the gun to Alex's chest, struggling to reach the trigger. But Alex batted the gun aside and it fired into the air. And Alex plunged his sword into DeBroun. I closed my eyes.

DeBroun died quickly, but not before Matthew said several things to him and Alex stood over him watching. "Ye swine," Alex said with contempt, leaning over the fallen man. "Ye canna even fight a duel fairly. Ye filthy swine. Get yerself to hell where ye belong."

The other men fled and the Kilgannon men moved to my side with uneasy glances at me. Except for Dougall, who glared at me, then came to my side. "Mary," Dougall hissed, "what are ye doing here? Why can ye never stay where yer safely put?"