Page 52 of Kilgannon #1

A UTUMN WAS UPON US BEFORE I REALIZED SUMMER WAS over, and as the days grew shorter the tasks grew more hurried.

Alex rode far afield as the shielings were closed for the winter and the cattle gathered to be herded off to market.

At one time the MacGannons had sold timber and linens to England, but British markets were closed now to those Scottish products and Alex had turned to other commodities.

Cattle were a large and lucrative part of what Kilgannon sold over the border.

If they could arrive at the selling place.

In order to get the cattle to market they had to be driven through MacDonnell and MacGregor lands and dangerously close to the Campbells, so Alex went on the drive, grumbling about cows and rivers.

Angus placidly watched his cousin complain, while he made sure all the men were well armed.

Matthew was thrilled to be included, and Ian, six now, had tried to convince his father that he would be an asset as well, but Alex only shook his head, pointing to the newly arrived tutor.

Gilbey Macintyre had come to live with us just after the Games, fresh from Edinburgh.

He was as tall as Alex, thin and bony, his hair lank, his features craggy and mismatched, but he was young and curious.

He asked endless questions, following Alex and Angus around while Ian and Jamie followed him, and he absorbed everything.

His tall gawkiness hid a quick mind and a ready wit, both always welcome at Kilgannon, and I suspected that he regarded his assignment with us as a great adventure.

In just a few short weeks we had grown used to his company, and now he was a fixture here, assisting wherever needed.

Deirdre had left two weeks after the Games, staying longer than planned to show me how to prepare for winter.

She’d instructed me as she moved at high speed from kitchen to garden to bedrooms. Nothing missed her notice, and though I wrote it all down I had doubts I’d manage it without her.

I sighed as I tried to remember it all, but Berta—stolid, solid Berta—was unfazed and smiled at me encouragingly.

“We’ll do fine, Lady Mary” was all she’d say, and after a while I believed her.

Ellen was, as always, a welcome companion.

She had grown to love it here, she told me, and I watched with amusement as she studied the men, knowing she was considering which would be the best husband.

She was very popular with men and women alike, wee Donald most of all.

Calum brought a letter from Louisa saying they would have to postpone their visit and hoped to come at Christmas, which was a terrible disappointment to me, for I still missed them very much.

I was forlorn then and roamed the halls, the boys and their infernal dogs at my heels, and now Gilbey trailing in my wake as well. But sometimes I was alone.

One evening after a particularly long day I climbed the stairs of the keep to watch the sunset and came upon Gilbey sitting cross-legged on the floor of one of the rooms, a boy on each side of him, the three engrossed in a map as Gilbey traced the battles of William Wallace and Robert the Bruce.

They neither saw nor heard me, and I stood in the doorway as the boys asked question after question.

From listening to Gilbey one would think Wallace and the Bruce to be the greatest heroes ever born and theirs the only noble cause.

Feeling very English and very much in a foreign land, I crept down the stairs and walked instead along the loch, pausing beside the indigo water and wondering what I was doing here.

But as the sun set and I watched the workers leave for their cottages and the lights begin to appear in Kilgannon’s windows, a calm peace came over me.

I am happy to be here , I told myself, and it is only because Alex is gone that I feel so lonely.

If I were in London I would be preparing for another social evening, where, no doubt, Robert would be in attendance, or Rowena, or Edmund Harriett with his waspish remarks.

If Alex had never come to London I would be there as well.

But I doubted that I would have been happy much longer in that world.

I took a deep breath and smelled the pine resin from the stand of trees behind me.

I am glad to be here , I told myself, and turned to see two little figures bounding along the shore toward me, waving and yelling, the dogs barking as they ran alongside.

I am needed here , I thought. Jamie threw himself into my arms, and William Wallace jumped on my skirts while Ian circled me with whoops and Robert the Bruce barked furiously.

“You’re captured, Sassenach!” they yelled, and Jamie planted a wet kiss on my cheek triumphantly.

“That’s your forfeit,” he shouted, and Ian pulled him down.

“No, no, ye did it wrong, Jamie,” Ian laughed. “Ye must get a kiss from her, not give her a kiss!”

“Oh,” said Jamie, and I laughed at them as I paid my forfeit over and over. At last I led the four of them back into the house, swinging a boy’s hand in each of mine. Home , I thought. I’m home.

When Alex returned he was filthy and hungry, but they had sold the cattle for a good price and were pleased.

That night, when all were clean and fed again, I followed Alex upstairs and watched as he knelt before the fire and stirred the ashes to life.

That ’ s just what he does to Kilgannon when he returns , thought.

I And to me. “You’re very quiet, my love,” I said.

He smiled. “I hate cows, Mary Rose,” he said. “I dinna want to be there.” He unpinned the brooch and pulled off the top of his plaid, handing me the brooch. “Did I tell ye about this, lass?”

“No,” I said, looking at the hammered gold brooch, the marks of the tool readily apparent. It did not look very valuable.

“It was my grandfather’s. He gave it to me when I was ten. On my tenth birthday, when I had been punished.”

“Why?” I smiled at the thought of a ten-year-old Alex being disciplined. “Were you naughty?”

His gaze grew distant. “I had been rude to my father. Or so I was told. I thought I was just telling the truth.” He shrugged.

“What happened?”

“It was afternoon and we were preparing for everyone to arrive for the Games. We’d all been clearing the meadow, and I teased my brother Jamie about not doing his share of the work.

My father heard me and he hit me. He used to do that a lot, ye ken, when he was in the drink.

Which he usually was.” He sighed and unbuckled his belt.

“I tried not to cry, and when my father asked what I was doing now, I told him I was thinking that whisky made him mean. Ye should have seen his face. Jamie came to stand next to me, and I never forgot that. Jamie was always afraid of our father in a drunken mood—well, he was afraid of him all the time, drunken or no’—but as fearful as he was, Jamie came to stand with me. ”

“That was very brave of him. How old was he?”

Alex nodded. “Eight, almost. Aye. He was braver than I was. I was not brave; I was stupid. I dinna consider my actions in those days.” He smiled a sad smile.

“Do ye ken, I still miss Jamie? After all these years, I still miss him.” Alex removed his kilt, continuing in a flat tone.

“My father beat me until I couldna stand and then he left me there on the ground, crying. I lay there, looking at the dirt beneath me, and then my grandfather was there and he lifted me up. He wasna a young man anymore, but he lifted me up and he carried me to my room. And he took this brooch off his own plaid and gave it to me.” Alex cupped his hand around mine and looked at the brooch I held there.

“He said that this brooch had been Gannon’s, the first Gannon, and that it had been handed down from laird to laird for all that time and that his father gave it to him on his eighteenth birthday and that he was giving it to me.

” Alex glanced at me, but he was seeing a young boy and his grandfather.

“I asked him why he hadna given it to my father, but he said it was his to give and he was giving it to the next laird of Kilgannon. And that I was to remember my duties to the clan every time I looked at it. I do.” He smiled.

“And someday, when I’m no longer able to lead, I’ll give it to Ian.

” He studied the brooch and I looked at his downcast face, his lashes dark against his skin.

I kissed his cheek and he smiled, glancing up.

“So that’s why you went on the cattle drive,” I said.

“Aye. Not because I like to ride behind cows, lass. I’d always pick a boat before a horse.” He wrapped his arms around me.

“Oh, Alex,” I said into his chest. “I missed you terribly.”

“And I ye, lass,” he said. “I may never travel again.” He leaned down to his sporran on the chest and withdrew a tiny packet, handing it to me with a smile. “It’s vastly overdue, Mary, but I found what I wanted to give ye at last.”

“What—” He interrupted me with a wave of his hand.

“Open it, lass. It’s no’a white nightgown to scandalize ye.”

I opened the package slowly. Inside the deepest fold was a golden ring, fashioned in an intricate and open pattern. At the front was a small circle banded by roped gold. Within the circle was a tiny rose in profile, the stem leading to the right. Alex watched me open it, his eyes dark.

“It’s a rose, ye see,” he said as he pointed it out to me. “And the stem is to be leading to yer heart.”

“It’s beautiful, Alex,” I said in wonder, turning it in my hand. “I’ve never seen such a pattern. ”

“It’s a Celtic love-knot pattern,” he said, pleased. “If ye look closely ye can see that the weave of it is constant, one piece woven onto itself. It represents a love that never breaks.”

“Oh, Alex,” I said, my voice faltering as I fought the tears. “It is so… ” I wrapped my arms around him.

His voice was tender. “Do ye like it, Mary Rose?”