Page 56 of Kilgannon #1

T HE WINTER CONTINUED, COLD AND WET. WE WERE indoors more than we liked, the men restless.

Angus had them practicing constantly, the ringing of their swords sounding throughout that wing.

I grew to hate the sound of a sword being unsheathed.

The children were underfoot, and we found ourselves scolding them for acting like children.

But we also had evenings full of music and dancing.

And no Malcolm. He and Sibeal had gone as quickly as they had come and we’d had no word from them, which pleased me.

Malcolm disgusted me. But Alex was not disgusted; he was distraught, and my arguments did nothing to dissuade him of the conviction that he had done something wrong.

He searched for a reason that made sense, or something that he could have done differently.

To me it was very simple. Perhaps hard to accept, but simple.

Jealousy. Self-interest. Malcolm and the captain of the Diana had feigned that she was lost, and Malcolm had spent weeks with Alex supposedly searching for the truth while the money from her sale was in his pocket.

How anyone could live that duplicity was beyond me, and I said so often, but Alex would not damn his brother and we argued about it many times.

I could understand his not wanting to face that Malcolm had behaved so, but in the face of what seemed obvious to everyone else, Alex’s behavior seemed only obstinate.

We argued often about Malcolm, never more heatedly than when I suggested that the men who had attacked me in London had been paid by Malcolm.

Alex had roared at me then, but I had met his anger with my own.

“Ye just want to blame everything on him, Mary,” he’d said.

“No, Alex,” I’d answered. “Just that for which he’s responsible.

Look at it, for God’s sake. You were about to go to Cornwall and search for the wreck.

The poison hadn’t stopped you, and you might find something damaging in Cornwall.

Don’t you think it just too convenient that those men knew exactly when and where to find you?

The only thing Malcolm didn’t know was that I’d be with you.

And that may have saved your life, Alex.

If they’d gotten into the empty coach and waited, they would have attacked you as you entered.

You’d have been an easy target. Why can’t you see this? ”

“No,” he’d bellowed. “No, Mary, it’s not that simple.”

“It is. Ask Angus. Ask Matthew. It’s simple to everyone but you. Everyone else can see it. Why can’t you?”

“Or is it just convenient to blame Malcolm when we both ken the men who attacked ye wore Campbell colors?”

I’d glared at him. “Robert told you he did not send those men to attack you.”

“And Malcolm told me he dinna either.”

“Alex, you are not a stupid man. Why are you being so blessed stubborn on this? You know what Malcolm is. You know he did this. Face it! Stop excusing him.”

“When ye stop defending Robert Campbell.”

“He didn’t do anything. Malcolm did!”

Alex threw his hands up. “Ye have an idea in yer head and ye willna see anything else. Do ye not see that it’s no’that simple?”

“Yes, actually it is. Alex, I get no joy in being right.”

“Anyone but Robert,” he said, and walked out of the room.

We did not speak for two days and then agreed only that we loved each other.

We did not discuss the argument again, but I could think of little else.

I told myself I would be objective about Will’s behavior if I were in Alex’s position, but when Will’s letter came saying he and Betty and Louisa and Randolph would be arriving for Christmas, my confidence evaporated.

What if it were Will? I wondered. Could I face with dispassion that Will had done such a thing?

I decided I could not. I watched Alex’s agony and relented.

My husband needed my support, not my criticism.

In his heart he knew what had happened. It was not important that he admit it to me.

Things gradually got better between us, and I was relieved to have him return to acting like himself, the signs of his continued preoccupation with Malcolm visible only to those of us who knew him well.

With me Alex was always tender and loving.

Well, not always. Whenever I mentioned Malcolm he withdrew from me, and I would grow angry and we’d quarrel.

Eventually I learned not to mention Malcolm and to my surprise began to forget him altogether.

Life was better without him, and we slipped into a routine as if he did not exist.

My family arrived on the Mary Rose on a sunny December day, and my mood lightened considerably.

Alex stood beside me, and Jamie held my hand, jumping up and down with excitement, while Ian stood on tiptoe to see if Will carried the packages he had written about.

Our greetings were noisy and joyous, and the boys danced around us all as we walked up the hill, the precious packages in their hands already.

I kissed my brother and Betty, thanked Will for his thoughtfulness, and smiled at Louisa and Randolph’s expressions of astonishment as they looked around.

“I had no idea,” said Louisa, her eyes wide. “I knew Kilgannon was a castle, but I pictured one of those dreadful brown towers one sees by the border, all square and blunt. This is beautiful.”

Alex grinned behind her and raised his eyebrows. “Ye dinna think I’d bring yer precious niece to a crofthouse, did ye, Louisa? I. told ye I’d take care of her.” He turned to wave a hand at the buildings. “It’s no’much now, ye ken, but we have plans to enlarge.” He laughed at their expressions.

“Well,” Randolph said. “It looks as though you already did. And quite a bit. Tell me about the construction.”

“I was no’here for most of it, Randolph,” laughed Alex as they left us. Will hurried to join them, and Angus and Matthew appeared at the outer gate. The men exchanged loud and silly greetings, and I smiled to see them laughing together.

“Well, my darling, tell me,” said Louisa, linking her arm in mine. “How are you?”

“Happy,” I said, smiling. “Very happy.”

Christmas was upon us and we were merry.

Every night the hall was full of MacGannons and music, and I saw it through my family’s eyes.

Will loved the fiddlers who stomped their feet as they played faster and faster, and I saw Louisa wiping tears from her eyes as Thomas or Murreal would sing a stirring ballad.

On Christmas Eve we gathered in the chapel with most of the household, and the ceremony was one I would always remember.

Candles burning in evergreens lit the room with a soft glow.

I stood with Alex and the boys, flanked by my family and his, and surrounded by clansmen, the priest in a joyous mood.

The bright colors of our clothing and the white candles and greenery were framed by the gray stones, the air somehow silky tonight and full of magic.

And next to me, his hair a golden halo around his head, Alex looked like a very large angel.

After the ceremony we ate in the hall and brought in Christmas Day with toasts and laughter while I looked at these well-loved faces around my table.

What a difference from the year before. I gave a prayer of thanks and resolved to be the best wife and mother in the world.

I had only one regret. I had miscarried again shortly before my family’s arrival.

I had told Alex at last of my pregnancy and then had to tell him of the miscarriage.

I recovered at once and did not mention it except to Louisa and Ellen and Berta, but I knew the whole household, probably the whole clan, knew we had lost another child.

One rite of the season was a great success with Will, for he was its center.

The custom of first-footing was a firm tradition at Kilgannon, and we did it with delight.

Shortly after midnight of the new year we all paid a visit to every nearby household.

Tradition dictated that the first person across the threshold in the new year should be dark-haired and preferably male, to bring luck to the house.

Alex had been the first-footer for years, but because he was fair he’d had to follow the practice of throwing a lump of coal in first before entering.

To have a dark-haired man who could be considered one of the laird’s family be the first-footer caused great excitement, and Will was a very willing participant.

At each house he was handed a glass of whisky, which he drained as more was handed round.

Before long we were all singing the old songs with the clansmen, Will leading the group as though he had done this for years.

We finished in the hall, where a meal had been prepared, and I smiled as I watched everyone.

Next to me Alex beamed as he looked over the happy faces, his face flushed with the warmth and the whisky.

He kissed my hand as it lay clasped in his.

Later, alone in our room, he kissed me thoroughly, then leaned back to look at me. “Hard to believe it’s the new year, lass. I’ve kent ye a year and a half now. The happiest of my life.”

I smiled at him, but his face blurred with the tears that sprang to my eyes. “And mine,” I said.

“Then why do ye cry, Mary Rose?” he asked tenderly.