Page 63 of Kilgannon #1

The brothers closeted themselves in the library.

At first Angus was with them and the shouting of all three could be heard in the corridor.

When it at last quieted I relaxed, but still Alex did not come out.

Angus said nothing to me when he emerged, simply nodded as he took the stairs three at a time.

Hours later I went to bed alone, comforted only by the thought that had they not reached some sort of accord Alex would have been out of there much earlier.

When he crept into bed in the wee hours, I woke and reached out to him, surprised to find his cheeks wet.

“What happened, my love?” I asked as he pulled me to his chest.

He gave a shaky sigh. “I dinna want to go through it all, lass, but my family is whole again. For the now, at least, and I willna think more on it.” He stroked my shoulder and kissed my hair.

“Malcolm wearies me more than anyone on earth. He does vile things and then begs me to forgive him. I dinna ken what to believe anymore, so I’ve decided to believe what I wish to be the truth. And I’ll leave it at that.”

I wrapped my arms around him and stroked his back. “If you are content, Alex, then I am. Perhaps we can have peace now.”

“Aye. Perhaps,” he said, and sighed again.

But I knew in my heart that despite my best intentions I would never forget, nor forgive, what Malcolm had done, and while I was pleased for Alex that the brothers were again in harmony, I doubted that it would hold long.

The leopard does not change its spots , I told myself’.

But the leopard behaved himself admirably during his visit.

Matthew refused to be anything but icily polite, as did Angus.

Most guests seemed not to notice anything amiss, but Murdoch and Duncan and Sir Donald did.

All three watched Alex and Malcolm. I saw Malcolm talking earnestly to Murdoch but could tell from Murdoch’s stance that Malcolm had much more to do to convince Murdoch of his sincerity.

Duncan took his brother’s cues and stayed distant from Malcolm.

The MacDonald watched from under his bushy eyebrows, missing nothing, not even me watching him watching them.

He winked at me once, and I knew he saw much more than he’d ever let on.

But there was more going on in the Highlands that summer of 1714 than the disagreements between the MacGan non brothers.

The mood among the guests was rebellious and resentment toward the English high.

No one said anything impolite to me, for which I was grateful and which I believed was due to the clan’s unabashed acceptance of me.

The MacGannons gathered around me protectively when the conversations centered on the sins of the English.

None of them overtly guarded me, but the message was clear, and for the first time I understood what Alex had been trying tell me when he’d said that the Countess of Kilgannon was a protected person.

And then the Games were over and we bade farewell to all of the guests, even Malcolm and Sibeal.

Kilgannon seemed at once both peaceful and isolated.

Matthew had already returned to university and I knew we would miss him every day again, but we were busy, for it was time for us to prepare for the winter.

The men went on the cattle drive again this year, but Alex stayed behind.

Thomas and Angus were joined instead by several of the younger men who were anxious to take part.

Angus had laughed at Alex’s delighted expression when told that the party was well filled.

To my surprise Gilbey’s request to join the group was readily welcomed.

He was thrilled. When I told Alex of my amazement, he shrugged and said Gilbey needed the experience.

He stood at my side and grinned as we watched the herders ride off.

The next two days it rained but we were merry, for Alex had determined that the women were much too melancholy about the men being gone.

He was loud and silly as he roamed the castle, and I could stand still and listen to his laughter ring from wherever he was.

Soon we all were laughing. The third morning dawned clear and bright, if cool, and Alex woke me with a kiss.

He wore ancient trews and a warm shirt and told me to wear an old gown and walking shoes and my warm cloak.

He left with a smile but without an explanation.

When I came downstairs he was strapping a bundle to his back and told me with a grin that we were going for a walk, but refused to say where.

He told Ellen that the boys were hers for the day and warned them to behave. Ellen laughed as we left.

We walked around the edge of the loch, the mountains reflected clearly this morning in the still water, and went into the trees at the far end, walking on the thick layer of fallen leaves.

The path was steeper here, but we walked quickly, hand in hand.

Alex would not tell me where we were going and laughed when I asked.

His expression, free of the worry that had been his for months, was merry.

I would go anywhere he wished just to hear him laugh like this , I thought.

It had been far too long since my husband had been carefree.

At the entrance to the pass he turned away from it and followed a trail I would have missed on my own.

It led sharply upward, following a stream that plummeted to the loch below.

We climbed for what seemed like a very long time, Alex helping me up the largest boulders and holding back the branches where they overhung the track.

When at last we reached the top of the hill, I gasped with delight.

From here the view seemed never-ending. Kilgannon spread out before us, the loch flowing into the sea and the sea swirling around the near islands and then rushing to the far islands in the distance.

To the north the hills and lochs of the western coat were shimmery in the pale autumn light, the hills lit with the last of the summer’s bright heather and the lochs glowing silver between them.

To the south we could see the coast fall away from our peninsula.

The blue mountains wrapped around us to the east and north and southeast. It felt like we stood on the edge of the sky.

Alex gestured to the glen below us. “This is why Gannon stayed here, lass,” he said softly.

“It’s so beautiful, Alex.”

“Aye,” he said, and we stood in silence for a few moments on the top of the ridge, watching the light play across the landscape.

He kissed me as the cool autumn wind whirled around us and then urged me on once again, ignoring my questions, his eyes merry.

He followed the path and I followed him, turning often to drink in the blues and grays spread out below me. A few moments later he paused.

“I suspect that ye soon will refuse to go on,” he said, and I nodded.

“All right, then, we’ll go no farther.” He grinned at me.

I looked at him and then around us. We were in a small clearing, flat here, trees sheltering us from the worst of the wind.

Behind him rose a large mound of rock and dirt.

To my left was a lovely view of the mountains north of Loch Gannon and Skye beyond that, the ocean surrounding it a deep slate blue.

Alex spun on his heel as my eyes returned to him and marched off around the mound; of rock with a glance over his shoulder.

When I pursued him I found a small clearing on the other side.

A ledge, to be precise. A large ledge, to be sure, but still a ledge, which overlooked the pass below, the path clearly visible as I peered down at it and then turned.

The mound that had seemed to be rock and dirt proved to be a cave about twenty feet deep, the opening wide and tall, the floor carpeted with pine needles and showing signs of past fires.

“Alasdair’s cave,” he said, and looked triumphant as he swung the bundle from his back.

“My great-great-grandfather, the first Alasdair, or Alexander, MacGannon, used to post men here to watch the pass so no one would approach Kilgannon unnoticed. Now, of course, it’s easier to watch from the houses of Glengannon.

” He waved across the pass at the village that was not far but out of sight from here, then untied the bundle, pulling packets of food and a bottle of wine from the folds of three plaids.

Grinning at me, he spread one plaid on the ledge before the cave and placed the food on it, then spread the other two in the cave on top of a pile of pine needles.

He lit a fire while I watched. “I thought ye might want a bit of food, lass, after our walk. Come and join me.”

“This is wonderful,” I sighed. The wind rustled in the trees above us, but we were sheltered here from its chill. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He tried not to laugh. “I wanted it to be a surprise. After we eat I’m going to seduce ye.” He leaned back on one arm and watched my reaction.

“Seduce me.” I was trying to remember the date of my visit to the doctor in London. I decided it had been long enough.

“Aye,” he said. “Do ye ken what today is?”

“No.”

He lifted his cup in salute to the sky. “The ninetieth day!”