Page 57 of Kilgannon #1
“A child, Alex. I cannot give you a child.” He shook his head slowly and pulled me to him, stroking my back as he spoke softly over my head.
“Ye’ve given me my life, lass, and my future.
My life was not worth living when I met ye, and it is the now.
It is enough, Mary, that I have ye. I need nothing else.
If we are meant to have children, we will.
If not, then so be it. I am a verra happy man.
” He released me and sighed. “Can ye be happy with me, lass? Even if we never have children together? Does it help a wee bit to have Ian and Jamie, or does that make it worse?”
“No. Yes. They are wonderful.” I smiled up at him. “And I am happy, Alex, more happy than I have a right to be. But I am greedy too. All I want in my life is to live here and have children with you. I’d like to give you another son. Or a daughter.”
He smiled and stroked my hair. “A daughter, lass, would be just like ye, far too much trouble. Better that we have sons. When yer well we’ll try again.
But we’ll have sons, Mary. They’ll be as simple to live with as their father.
” I smiled and kissed him, this splendid man who was mine. And 1714 began.
My family stayed for two more weeks. Will, Louisa, and Randolph had been as delightful as always, and even Betty was well behaved.
Louisa had taken a keen interest in the details of managing such a large household and had given me several suggestions that I intended to follow.
We had talked for days, and I think we left no topic untouched.
The most surprising development had been the mutual affection that had sprung up between Randolph and the boys.
He astonished me, and possibly himself, by spending a great deal of his time with them, playing chess or other games, and they begged him constantly for more stories of his youth and more of his adventure tales.
More than once Louisa and I had found him closeted with both boys and Matthew and Gilbey, holding them entranced with some far-fetched story of his escapades.
When the morning of their departure at last arrived, we stood in the hall before braving the icy wind and rain outside.
Captain Calum was to escort them home on the Mary Rose and he was anxious to get underway, muttering about tides and winds.
And then they were gone. I stood on the dock, watching the Mary Rose pull around the first bend, wondering when I would see them again.
Alex had promised a trip to London in the summer, but who knew if that would ever happen?
I tried to suppress my sadness as we hurried back to the hall, Alex’s hand warm in mine.
Matthew left a few days later for the University at St. Andrew’s, Angus going with him to help him settle into his new world as the new term began, and Gilbey went along as well, paving the way with those he knew.
Gilbey and Matthew had become fast friends, and I knew he would miss Matthew as much as we all would.
Angus and Gilbey arrived home two weeks later with the news that Matthew was well settled.
It was much quieter with him gone. The boys counted the days until summer. As did I.
In the late morning of a stormy February day, I stood in the chapel with Alex while he looked around the chapel and smiled.
“This room is Kilgannon, Mary. Have I ever told ye?” I shook my head.
“Well, kil means church, or chapel, so it’s really Gannon’s church.
This is the heart of our land. I always wonder how many marriages and funerals have been held here.
Nine earls buried from this chapel. Ten generations married and, God willing, eleven someday.
” He led me to the side of the chapel, where he knelt and ran his hands along the wall.
“Can ye see here, in the stone? Down low, here? A small A? My grandfather carved it when he was a boy and was punished for defacing the house of God. And when I was nine I carved this one next to it.” He pointed at the second letter.
“It was never discovered and I laugh every time I see it. I think it’s the only mischief I ever got away with.
And someday perhaps my grandson will carve another.
” His eyes met mine. “Let’s try again, lass,” he said.
The winter continued uneventfully until one dark afternoon when the Margaret brought news and an unwelcome letter, which I found Alex and Angus angrily discussing in the library.
Alex waved the letter at me as I entered.
“This came from our cousin Lachlan, lass,” he said.
“Queen Anne has agreed that her heir will be Sophia. Not James Stewart, not her own brother.”
I struggled to understand his outraged tone. “So if Anne dies, the English throne goes to the Hanovers?”
“Aye,” Angus said, “despite the fact that she is a Stewart.”
“Why are you surprised?” Both men looked at me, startled.
“Well?” I continued. “What else was going to happen? After the Treaty of Utrecht last summer France recognized Sophia’s heirship.
After the Act of Settlement, which barred a Catholic king—and which, I might add, was thirteen years ago—what did you think was next?
Did you think that James Stewart would suddenly convert to being Protestant and that would clear the way for his succession? ”
“Do ye understand what this means?” Alex asked.
“It means,” I answered, “that the same thing that has happened for centuries is happening again. Someone not English will be on the throne of England. It’s been happening for seven hundred years. More if you go back to the Romans.”
“It means, Mary,” said Alex, his tone angry, “that someone not Scottish will be on the throne that rules Scotland.”
“Yes,” I said, “but we knew that was going to happen.” The men exchanged another glance.
“Robert the Bruce was a Norman. Mary Stuart spoke French, not Gaelic, and changed the spelling of her name because she could not pronounce it correctly. James the First was quick to go to London and turn his back on Scotland. Alexander the Third left his throne to the Maid of Norway, and Charles lost the throne altogether. Now Anne gives the throne to a cousin rather than her half brother.”. Angus laughed, but Alex didn’t.
“We got a letter as well from the MacDonald,” he said sullenly. “There’s a letter being circulated by the English for all the Highland chiefs to sign that we will accept the situation.”
“I see,” I said .
“I dinna think ye do,” Alex snapped. “It’s no’a light thing, Mary.” His eyes were still indignant. “It means that no Stewart will sit on the throne of Scotland again.”
“Unless there is a rebellion.” I let my words hang in the air between us.
Angus, not smiling now, looked from Alex to me.
“Are you two planning an uprising? Or do Lachlan and the MacDonald invite you to join one? Surely everyone in the Highlands has been talking of it for months now.” And they had been.
I had long ago become accustomed to both the constant complaining about the English government and the half-baked plots to overthrow it.
But never from Alex. He turned and looked out the window.
Angus stretched his legs in front of him and studied them.
My heart stopped. Dear God , I prayed, tell me this is not true.
I watched Alex’s back. “Alex?” My voice wavered. He turned then.
“No rebellion, lass. We’re not plotting. But it doesna sit well. Surely ye can see that, Mary.” I looked up at him. How could I tell him how little the rest of the world mattered to me?
“I can see that, Alex,” I said in a soothing manner. “But surely this is not a surprise? It’s been years in the making, and Anne’s health is excellent. She’ll live for ages.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I hear, lass. I’m hearing she’s failing. But even if she does live, then what? Then Queen Sophia, then King George? God help us. It was bad enough with Anne. What will happen to us with a German on the throne?”
“Surely nothing will change.”
“Anne’s already surrounding herself with Whigs.”
“Oh,” I said, realizing Randolph’s influence would be considerably less; even the Duke’s would be diminished, and Uncle Harry’s. All Tories, they would pay the price for a shift of power.
“Aye,” Alex said grimly. “I can see yer beginning to understand. It’s no’a light thing.
Just a few years ago Scotland had ten times the representation we have now, and that was with a Stewart on the throne and Tories in control.
I’m telling ye, Mary, we’re headed for trouble. ” I looked from Alex to Angus and back.
“What are our choices?” I asked. “If you sign, perhaps we will be left in peace. What happens if you do not?”
“I dinna ken,” Alex said.
I looked at his cousin. “Angus?”
Angus shrugged. “Nor I, Mary. But the MacDonald’s signing, and the Camerons and MacDonnell of Glengarry. Lachlan says all the clans are.”
“Then that’s what we do,” I said.
“Aye,” Alex growled, turning to look out the window. “But I dinna have to enjoy the experience.” The boys and Gilbey burst in then, and I. left Alex to his sons and their lessons while Angus walked out into the hall with me.
“We have no choice, Angus,” I said, and he nodded curtly. “Do you have another solution?”
He shook his head. “I see no other choice. Our own leaders have sold us to England, and we must obey.’’
“It will not affect us. We are isolated here.”