Page 15 of Kilgannon #1

I drew myself upright and in my most patrician voice said, “I am. Please take me to Kilgannon. At once.” I put my foot on the gangplank and he called out to someone behind him .

As I climbed, my progress hampered by my skirts and the swaying of the gangplank, Angus’s face appeared over the rail of the ship.

He said something in Gaelic, which I assumed was a curse and was grateful that I did not understand.

He moved to the top of the gangplank and glowered down at me.

“Mary Lowell, what are ye doing here? Have ye lost yer mind, lass?”

“Not yet, Angus,” I said as I reached the deck.

Becca stopped by my side. Angus glared from under his eyebrows while Malcolm stood next to him, examining us.

Behind them I could see the sailors, some looking worried, some laughing.

They looked like very ordinary men, most dressed in Highland fashion.

They did not seem threatening. The two in front of us, however, were another story.

Angus frowned. “Did ye no’get my note, Mary?”

“Yes, Angus, of course,” I said. “How else did I know to come here?” I looked behind him. “Now, please let me see Alex.”

“Ye canna see him, lass. Go home. At once.”

“I will not. I came to see Alex and I will see him.”

Angus turned to Becca, who met his glance with an anxious expression, her enthusiasm for this adventure obviously ebbing. “Miss, can ye not take yer friend home where she belongs? It’s a foolish thing for ye to be doing. Go home.”

I answered before Rebecca could. My heart was pounding and I was as unsure of our situation as she, but I would not let them see that. “I will not go home, Angus. If Alex is ill I will see him.”

Angus shook his head. “He is too ill to see ye, lass.” He turned to Becca again. “She has no sense. Take her home.”

“I will not go,” I said. “And if you do not show me which is Alex’s cabin, I will wander around until I find it.” I moved toward the stairs that led belowdeck, but Angus placed himself squarely in front of me. Behind me, Malcolm laughed.

“Can ye do nothing?” Angus asked Rebecca.

“You might have noticed, sir,” said Becca, sounding much calmer than she looked, “that Miss Lowell is quite headstrong.” I shot her a look of displeasure, “Determined,” I said.

“Foolish,” Angus said, annoyed. “Mary, do ye no’ken that this is no’a place for a woman like ye?”

“Angus.” I lowered my voice so that only he could hear. “If Alex is ill, I will see him. If he is not ill and does not want to see me, I would know that too. I need to know.”

His eyes widened in surprise, but he answered me in a quieted voice. “How could ye think that, lass? Alex would never lie to ye, nor would I. I wrote ye the truth of it. He is ill, lass.”

“Then all the more reason for me to be here. I will see him. Please.”

He nodded. “So be it, lass. But it’s ye who will answer to him, not I. Alex will no’be pleased by this.”

I did not answer as I followed him belowdecks, though my heart was hammering, and I exchanged a look with wide-eyed Becca.

She trailed behind us without a word, but I imagined she’d have much to say to me later.

The boat swayed with the movement of the water as we descended, and I gripped the rope railing.

Belowdecks the light was dim, but the brig seemed clean and tidy, the smell of cooking wafting through the deck.

Angus led the way along a short passage and stopped to knock on a door.

Malcolm joined us, standing behind Rebecca.

There was no answer to Angus’s knock and he opened the door, placing his hand in front of me to prevent me from entering.

“Wait a moment, lass. He’s probably sleeping.” He disappeared into the dark cabin and closed the door behind him. We waited in silence until he reappeared, a lit lamp in his hand. “He’s asleep. Ye may come in to assure yerself he is ill, and then ye must leave.”

I followed him into the cabin. It was a small space with three berths lining the walls. Angus hung the lamp on a hook where it lit the room with a warm glow. In the middle of the cabin was a desk and a chair, charts rolled on the desk .

On the far side of the cabin, in the middle of the berth, Alex was asleep, on his back, his chest and shoulders naked, the bedcovers at mid-chest. Behind me Rebecca gasped, but I looked only at Alex.

He was indeed ill. His skin was gray and the smell of sickness permeated the cabin.

I knelt beside him and felt his forehead.

It was much too warm. I felt slightly dizzy as I smoothed the hair back from his face.

The beginnings of a beard were on his sunken cheeks.

, his breathing was shallow and his skin clammy.

“How long has he been like this?” I asked Angus as he came to my side.

“Three days,” he said. “Most of the time he sleeps, but when he wakes he vomits. Lass, ye must go now.”

“Have you called a doctor?”

“No. He’ll be a’right in a day or so.”

I pulled the cover to Alex’s shoulders and he stirred under my touch, opening his eyes one at a time.

He looked at me and closed his eyes again, then reopened them.

“Mary?” he asked, his voice weak. He struggled to sit up, the bedclothes sliding to his waist, exposing a golden-haired chest and a taut stomach.

I rose and stood next to the berth, my knees suddenly weak.

Even as ill as he was, he was extraordinary.

Alex looked behind me. “What the devil?. …” He sounded very tired.

“I couldna stop her, Alex,” said Angus over my shoulder. “She’s a headstrong lass with no common sense at all.” He added something in Gaelic. Alex looked from Angus to me, frowning.

“I came to see if I could help,” I said.

Alex sighed. “I’ll live, lass, but ye should not be here.”

“You need a doctor.”

He shook his head slowly. “No, no. I’ll be fine as soon as I can stop quoting Latin.

” He pulled the bedclothes tighter around his waist and looked at all of us.

“A very strange group to waken to, I’m thinking,” he said, rubbing his hand across his forehead.

“Angus, will ye find my shirt, please?” Angus moved to my right and handed Alex the shirt off the shelf next to me.

Alex struggled into it as we all watched him.

“Alex,” I said, “you’re feverish. You’ve been sick for days and now you’re making no sense.”

“Mary,” he said, with a ghost of his normal tone, “I just awoke and we’re having a party. I think I’m making fine sense.”

“Quoting Latin?”

His mouth twitched and he waved at Angus and Malcolm. “Well, lass, ye ken what Julius Caesar said when he dinna like a place?”

“I have no idea,” I said briskly. “Alex—”

The three men chanted in one voice. Vene vici vomiti. ”

Malcolm and Angus laughed and Alex smiled while Becca and I exchanged looks of wonder.

I shook my head at them and leaned over Alex, opening the window above the berth.

“Very clever. We’re getting a doctor. Perhaps for all of you.

Becca,” I said, turning, “send your man for Dr. Sutter. He’s the only one I can think of who will come here.

” I looked at Alex’s brother. “Malcolm, go with him to bring the doctor back.”

“Aye, Yer Majesty,” Malcolm said, but followed as Rebecca scurried out of the cabin.

Alex watched me through narrowed eyes, then rubbed his forehead again with a slow movement. “Mary, ye smell like roses. But what are ye doing here? Angus, what is she doing here?”

I spoke first. “I came to see if you were ill.”

“Do I look ill to ye?”

“Yes, you do. What happened?”

“I have no idea,” he said. “Ate something bad or. …” He shrugged.

Behind me Angus had made a sharp movement as Alex spoke.

Alex, visibly weary, closed his eyes again.

I glanced at Angus, his expression grim.

Something was not right here. I wasn’t being told everything and was very glad we had a doctor coming.

Becca returned after a few moments, saying that Malcolm had gone for Dr. Sutter.

I thanked her and smiled, then moved Alex’s clothes and sat on the shelf next to the bed while Angus hovered behind me, clearly unhappy.

Alex opened his eyes and looked at me. “Mary, lass, ye must go. Yer reputation will truly be compromised if this is discovered.”

“Hush, Alex,” I said. “I’ll go when I know you’re getting good care.

And not before.” He nodded and drifted into sleep.

I turned to see Angus watching me gravely, and I raised my chin.

We waited in silence. I looked at Alex as he dozed, seeing how shallow his breathing was.

He must be very weakened to sleep so easily, I thought, and he was much too ill for having had one bad meal.

He stirred again, opened his eyes, and rubbed his forehead.

“Does your head hurt?” I asked him, brushing his hair back.

“Aye, a bit. I’m just verra tired, Mary.”

“When did you eat last?”

He looked at me through half-closed eyes. “I canna eat. I canna keep anything down. I’ll just sleep until it’s better. Mary, lass, dinna talk about food just now.”

“Oh! I’m sorry,” I said, abashed. “I didn’t think.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m the sorry one. I dinna mean to worry ye. I was going to see ye the minute I landed. Did ye remember us saying that?”

“Yes.” That was understating it nicely.

“My stomach had other plans. France dinna agree with me.”

“See, you should not have left London.” I tried to keep my tone light. A rumble of laughter came from him.

“Aye, that must be it,” Alex said, and the next moment was asleep. I watched his gray face, his eyelashes dark on his pale cheeks, and prayed for his recovery, but I was interrupted when Angus took my arm and led Becca and me into the passage.

“Well, Miss Mary Lowell,” Angus said, closing the cabin door, “are ye satisfied? Is he indeed ill? ”

“You should have gotten a doctor two days ago.”