Page 36 of Kilgannon #1

“Aye,” he said absently as he entered a short paneled passage.

“I’d hoped ye’d like each other. She’s like Angus, a good one to have at yer back.

” He stood to one side and I followed him out into the bottom floor of the old keep.

The room was full of barrels. A narrow flight of stairs led above from one corner.

I gestured to the barrels. “What is all this?”

“Stores. In case of siege.” He laughed at my expression as he lit a candle waiting on the floor. “Unlikely, but it’s best to be prepared, no?” He pointed to a wooden door in the corner opposite us. “And an emergency tunnel to the sea, of course.”

“Alex, is it really so dangerous here?”

“Not unless the English attack.” He laughed and raised his eyebrows dramatically. “Do ye wish to attack me?”

“Yes, actually,” I said, laughing as well. “I do.”

“Well, ye must wait. Come now.” He led the way up the stairs, holding the candle high.

It was a typical keep, the stairs spiral and built to be easy to defend, not easy to climb.

Off each floor there were rooms that had been used to house the family.

Alex climbed the stairs effortlessly. “We’ve not lived in the keep for generations,” he said, his voice echoing off the stone.

“And ye can see why. It’s no’ comfortable.

” I followed, breathless. At last we reached the top, where Alex stepped into a small square room and put the candle on the floor.

He crossed the room and opened the door at the other side, gesturing me through.

The door led outside to a stone parapet circling the keep, originally intended to be manned by defenders, buttressed by tall pillars that reached to the stone roof above us.

The view was wonderful, and I looked at the castle below us, then the inner wall, the courtyard and outer wall, and finally across the valley at the loch and mountains, lit from the side by the last of the sun.

I gasped in surprise. “It’s beautiful, Alex.”

“Aye, but come over here.” He walked to the other side of the keep and pointed; “Here’s what I wanted ye to see.

” The tower was high enough to peer over the headland, and before me was the sea, dotted by islands, the sun about to set behind them.

The scene was breathtaking, the sky turning shades of pink, rose, and red, wild and splendid, fitting for the man who stood so still next to me.

I stole a glance at him and he smiled. “I wanted ye to see this yer first night.”

I clasped his arm. “How magnificent this is,” I said as the sun disappeared behind the blue island and the sky roared with the blazing colors. “It’s amazing. Truly amazing.”

“Almost as amazing as having ye here with me to see it. “His tone was gentle. “Mary, thank ye for marrying me. Ye have no idea how many times I’ve stood here and thought of ye. I still canna believe yer mine.” He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close.

“I love you, Alex,” I said, and kissed him.

“And I ye, lass.” He lifted his head and listened. “We have company,” he said, moving around the parapet to the door.

“Da! Da! Are ye here?” Ian shouted as he and two other little boys stumbled out in front of us, grinning triumphantly. “We found ye!”

“That ye have,” said Alex, lifting the boy into his arms. “But yer not to be in the keep alone, lads, are ye, now?”

“We’re not alone, Da, we’re with you,” Ian laughed.

Alex raised an eyebrow but smiled. “Aye, well, come now. We’re going down,” he said, and kissed me one more time before he led the way inside.

We trailed down the stairs in the gloom, the five, of us, Ian and the other boys talking without pause to Alex.

They moved from English to Gaelic and back within the same sentence without appearing to notice.

I'll have to learn the language, I thought, impossible as it seems to be to master.

The evening seemed endless. As soon as we were back in the hall Alex was surrounded again.

I was offered best wishes and welcomes and did my best to put names to Faces.

During the boisterous meal Jamie was in Alex’s lap and Ian between us, while Deirdre pointed out who was who.

She had identified almost everyone when I asked who the dark beauty was who watched Alex so closely.

Deirdre laughed. “Ye’d have to be no’ wise not to notice her, aye?

She’s no’ happy yer here. She thought she’d have Alex herself.

Of course, Alex hasna looked her way for years, which sets well with me.

I dinna need another Sorcha in this house.

Och, there I go again,” she laughed with raised eyebrows.

“I swore I’d no’ speak ill of Sorcha, and here I am again.

Well, no matter.” She glanced across the room.

“She’s Morag, niece of MacLeod of MacLeod. ”

Morag MacLeod, I thought. The girl Alex had fallen in love with at sixteen, the girl responsible for his year in France.

The woman, these years later, with whom Alex’s friend Murdoch was still in love.

Morag, with her dark hair shining in the candlelight and her eyes bright, was very beautiful.

She watched Alex’s every move, sometimes shifting her gaze to me as she did now.

Our eyes met across the room and I remembered Angus, in Louisa’s house, telling Alex that if he wanted a woman’s company Morag would marry him in a minute.

She nodded to me and smiled, and I did the same, then straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin.

I was the one Alex had chosen, I told myself.

Still, this one would bear watching. I turned to Deirdre again.

“Alex and Morag were once. … they …” I fumbled for words, but Deirdre laughed.

“Oh, aye, they were indeed. She was fifteen, he was sixteen, and we almost went to war because Alex decided he wouldna marry Sorcha MacDonald. They sent Alex to France to get her out of his system.” She laughed again, then looked at me shrewdly.

“I dinna think ye have to worry, lassie. Alex doesna think on Morag the now. It’s ye he’s been courting, and ye he married, Mary.

” We both looked at Morag, her dark beauty luminous.

“But I would still ken where he was when she’s about. A word to the wise.”

I was still musing on her words when Malcolm interrupted my thoughts, leaning across the table. “So Alex showed ye his sunset?”

“Yes,” I said. “It was beautiful.”

Malcolm nodded. “It is. All of Kilgannon is beautiful. And now it is yers as well.” His voice was without inflection.

I was not sure how to react. “Yes, I am most fortunate.”

“Fortunate. Aye, fortunate.” He sat back clumsily and looked at me with bleary eyes, and I realized he was drunk.

“Time to put the young ones to bed,” said Alex with a laugh that I tried to echo. The women were doing just that, I realized, looking out across the hall. Deirdre moved to lift a sleepy Jamie from Alex, and Ian reached for my hand with a smile.

“I always tend the boys myself, Mary,” said Deirdre. “Come with us, why don’t ye?” I did, glad to be leaving Malcolm.

The boys behaved as though we had done this a thousand times.

Upstairs we talked of the day and of tomorrow, and Ian looked up at me as we walked and smiled a smile that was pure Alex.

When we reached the room the boys shared, Deirdre tended to Jamie while Ian shrugged out of his kilt and flipped his shoes over his head with a grin at me, watching for my reaction.

He is certainly Alexis son, I thought, and laughed as expected.

“I knew who ye were,” Ian said. “When ye got here, I knew.”

“How?” I asked. Without answering, Ian led me to a chest in the corner of the room and opened it, pulling out three sketches. They were all of me and they were very good.

“Da sent us yer picture so we could see ye.” He looked- up into my face as if comparing Alex’s sketches to the original.

“Your father showed me pictures of you too,” I said.

He nodded and pulled his socks off. “He told us.”

“Thank you for your letter,” I said. “I enjoyed it.” Ian nodded again and turned to the waiting Deirdre, who tucked him in and kissed him while I stood next to the bed feeling awkward.

But Ian reached his arms out to me, and as I hugged him I realized I’d lost my heart for the second time to a MacGannon.

He snuggled under the cover. “I’m glad yer here at last.”

“So am I,” I said, kissing his forehead.

Jamie was already asleep, and I smoothed his hair back and kissed his cheek and followed Deirdre into the hall.

“They’re good boys,” she said, “but they need a mother.”

I smiled at Alex’s aunt. “They’ll have one now,” I said.

I remember no more of the second ceremony than I did of the first. It was a blur of candlelight and Scots, except for Alex’s smiling face.

I had expected to be calmer during this second wedding, but when I stood at the top of the stairs and faced the hall packed with upturned faces, I lost some of my composure.

I remember Alex’s family smiling as we filed past them into the chapel for the blessing, and I remember walking with Alex through the crowd back into the hall.

When we were married again, Alex kissed me boldly as the onlookers cheered and all formality ended.

Music started and there was dancing, followed much later by a meal.

We danced and talked and laughed for hours, and as the evening wore on, the accents got thicker and the English less frequent.