Page 30 of Kilgannon #1

“Yes, and I know that your sons are part of the bargain. I know they need their father. I will do my best to be a mother to your sons.” I took the sword from him and placed it on the hearth again.

“I need their father too. We’ll have to share.

I love you, Alex. I trust your judgment and believe that you were right to dispense justice as you did.

I will marry you and move to Kilgannon. We will share what you have, and what I bring will be yours as well if you’ll have me. ”

“Ah, lass,” he said, his eyes shining again. “I’d love to have ye.” He laughed as I put my arms around him.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It is what I meant,” he growled into my neck.

“Then you must ask correctly, sir.”

“Correctly?”

“Yes.”

“I must ask correctly to have ye?”

“You must ask correctly to marry me.”

He nodded and stood in front of me, taking my hands in his. His expression was tender, his voice earnest.

“Mary Lowell, will ye have me for a husband? Will ye marry me and be my wife?”

“Yes, Alex.” I looked into his eyes and smiled. “Yes.”

He kissed me softly. “Ah, lass, ye’ve made me verra happy.”

“And you me,” I whispered into his neck.

He laughed then, the sound warm and rich, as he lifted me into his arms, whirling us both around the room.

“Ha!” he shouted. “She said yes!” He kissed me deeply, and we slowly stopped spinning and concentrated on each other.

“She said yes,” he said quietly, his eyes dark as he traced a finger along my cheek to my lips, then followed his path with his mouth.

At last we paused for breath and I shook my head at him.

“How could you doubt I’d say yes, Alex?” I asked. “How could you wonder? I’ve done nothing but throw myself at you for months.”

His expression sobered. “I canna think of why ye’D love me, Mary, enough to leave all this.” He waved his hand at the room. “I love ye, lass, but it’s a tremendous thing to ask of ye, and I wasna sure ye’D want to once ye’D considered it fully.”

“Alex,” I said, reaching for him again. “You’ll never find a woman who wants you, body and soul, more than I.

Never.” He laughed that deep laugh again and I smiled triumphantly at him, then put one hand under his shirts and stroked his back.

His skin was smooth, and I wanted to peel the shirt off him and see him.

I put my other hand under his shirt and he pulled me closer to him.

I could feel his body stir. And Will walked into the room.

I dropped my hands from Alex’s back and buried my face in his shoulder.

His arms were still strongly around me, and I heard him speak over my head.

“We’re betrothed, Will,” Alex said calmly. The pause was so long that I turned my head at last to see Will’s reaction. His expression was unreadable, but he was looking at me when he replied, “It took you long enough, Kilgannon.”

It snowed for the three days Alex stayed, and we talked constantly, about marriage and children, books and politics, London and Scotland.

Jack followed Alex around like a puppy. He thought Alex truly astonishing.

In fact, most of the staff thought him astonishing.

He won several of them over, especially the cook, when he insisted on going to the kitchen to thank her for a fine meal.

Lord Alex could do no wrong after that, and she outdid herself while he was with us.

We were walking through the gallery when I asked him about the comments I’d heard that his family were Jacobites, supporters of the deposed king James Stewart.

The Catholic James, or Jacobus in Latin, had been forcibly supplanted by the Protestant William of Orange.

William was a Dutch prince whose claim to the English throne was twofold: He was the grandson of the beheaded King Charles I, a Stewart, and also the husband of Mary, daughter of the Stewart king James II.

William invaded England in 1688 to claim the throne from King James, who fled to France with his son.

Left unchallenged, William had taken the thrones of England and Scotland.

Some Scots, now called Jacobites, had risen in James’s defense in 1688 and were defeated in the Battle of Killiecrankie the next year.

Alex’s father had been among them., I watched his reaction to my question.

He sighed and looked up at the portraits of my ancestors.

“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 ye’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 ballgown.

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.