Page 22 of The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (Kilgannon #2)

EIGHT

W e left the next morning. No pipers for us as we pulled slowly away from the dock, only a small forlorn group waving silently, Ellen and Berta at the front of them.

I looked one more time across the glen toward the mountains.

Somewhere beyond them Alex was in prison.

Somewhere beyond them Angus and Matthew and Gilbey were working to free him.

And now we were going to Edinburgh as well.

But how could I help if I was under Robert’s supervision?

The boys were quiet, standing with me on deck, watching the castle grow smaller.

I could not bring myself to tell them to bid Kilgannon goodbye for the last time.

It had been with great reluctance that I’d asked Thomas to bring them home last night.

And now, on this cold, crisp morning, I looked at Kilgannon and put my hand on my middle, reminding myself of my responsibilities.

No matter what, I must keep these three children safe.

I had walked through the house last night, just as Alex had done, and said a silent farewell to my home.

I would probably never stand in these rooms again, never sit before the fire in the library, nor join the clan for a meal in the hall.

My child would not be born in the bed where I had known such happiness.

You have no choice , I told myself, but in my head I heard the echo of Angus’s words.

“There is always a choice, Mary. And always a cost.”

Ellen had tearfully offered to come with us, but wee Donald had stood behind her and I’d looked over her shoulder and shook my head as I thanked her.

It was a generous offer and one I would have gladly accepted, but I could not separate them and told her as much.

Berta cried, asking if I wanted her to keep the house as always.

“Keep yourself safe, Berta,” I had said as I embraced her. “Keep yourself safe for me. The house will keep itself if need be.”

“It will be spotless when you return, madam,” she said, weeping, and I thanked her as she handed me a large bundle. “Plaids for the laird, Lady Mary, and for the new bairn,” she whispered, “so he’ll grow up wearing the proper clothes.”

Dougall, who had hovered nearby, put a hand on my shoulder, and I fought my tears as I looked up into his plain, honest face. “Please thank everyone for me, Dougall,” I answered, embracing him quickly. “And you, Dougall, thank you for everything.”

“I’ve done nothing but let ye do as ye wish, lass. I hope Alex agrees with the both of us.”

I nodded and we looked together at the castle, so beautiful in the still morning air. “I’ll always remember this,” I said softly.

“Dinna say goodbye to Kilgannon, Mary,” Dougall said gruffly. “Ye’ll be back. I ken it. My Moira has the sight and she says ye’ll be back. And Alex.”

I met his clear blue eyes. “I hope she’s right.”

“I ken she is,” he said. “We’ll keep Kilgannon safe and we’ll be here to welcome ye both back home. ”

“Thank you,” I said, ignoring the tears now streaming down my cheeks.

He shook his head. “There’s no thanks necessary. Yer a MacGannon now, Mary, and this is the home of the MacGannons. Haste ye back, lass,” he said hoarsely and stalked away as I stared after him. Haste ye back , I thought. Would it were so .

I turned then to Thomas and Murreal at my side. “Thank you,” I said, “for all your kindnesses to me. And for your loyalty.” I smiled sadly. “And all your songs and stories. We will miss them terribly.” Thomas waved my words away with embarrassment.

“I wish ye would ha’ let us spirit ye all elsewhere as I’ve offered, Mary,” he said and patted my arm. “Take care of yourself, lass. I do no’ trust the Campbell. He has lust in his eyes for ye.”

“I will be careful, Thomas, but Robert is taking us to Edinburgh and Alex is in Edinburgh.…” I looked east across the glen before turning back to him. “We will find a way to free Alex.”

He nodded as he patted my arm again. “Yer a brave lass, Mary,” he said, his eyes filling with tears.

I thought of that moment now as we slipped around the first bend and Kilgannon was lost from sight.

I did not feel brave. In three short years Kilgannon had become home, and for the first time I realized how very much I had been searching for just that.

Home. Alex and home. What would happen to Kilgannon, left unprotected?

Dougall and Thomas would stay, and Berta and Ellen and wee Donald, but with only a handful of trained men left, how would they hold off the predators?

I wished I were not powerless to change it.

And what would happen to us? I wondered as I looked at Alex’s sons.

Robert moved to Jamie’s side and caught my eye.

His expression was bland, but I felt a tension, an excitement in his bearing.

What man would protect his rival’s sons?

And yet I could not imagine Robert harming these boys.

He’d sworn to protect them and I believed him, but, I reminded myself, at one time I’d thought that Malcolm, however unpleasant, would be faithful to his brother.

Robert swallowed a curse as Jamie’s dog, William Wallace, forced his way to the rail, pushing Robert aside with a wet nose, and I smiled to myself.

Robert had not been pleased with the amount of my luggage, nor the dogs, but I had been firm.

Everything went, I said, or I didn’t. I stood at the rail now, watching us pass the bare hills of the outer loch.

This land, I knew, would always hold me in its thrall.

It was almost as though I could hear the bagpipes as I had the day I had arrived with Alex, I thought, and then realized with a start that I could hear them.

I looked around wildly. Ian, next to me, pointed to the headland.

Following his gaze, I saw Seamus MacCrimmon silhouetted against the sky, playing “MacGannon’s Return.

” As we watched, Seamus was joined by scores of others, waving and shouting.

We waved back excitedly and Robert frowned as Kilgannon’s sons were piped out of MacGannon territory.

Or what had been MacGannon territory. It would still be ours if not for James Stewart, I thought.

And the Earl of Mar. And Malcolm. May they rot in hell.

I put my hand on my waist and faced the sea.

The trip to Fort Williams was uneventful.

I was so busy caring for the boys and the dogs that I had little chance to talk to Robert, but what could we have to say to each other?

Although he was being kind, and despite his protestations to me, I had no illusions that he would risk all, or anything, to protect us.

Not Alex’s sons and possibly even me, when it became evident I was carrying Alex’s child.

I nursed the boys through the worst of their fears, and when we docked they were cheerful again.

I nursed my own hopes as well, that by the time we arrived in Edinburgh, Alex would have been freed.

Or, at worst, be still alive. My heart leapt at the thought that I would soon see him, but I chided myself every time.

Let it come as it would, I had decided. I no longer wanted to know what the future would bring.

At Fort William we were ushered into the main building, and Robert reported to someone while we waited in a dreary parlor, guarded by two armed and uniformed men.

The boys sat on either side of me, their eyes enormous and their mouths firmly closed, unhappy that the dogs had been left outside.

The fort was little more than ruins, and I wondered at the English army keeping their men in a hostile land in such conditions.

At last Robert returned to us, saying that the captain wished to speak with me.

We followed Robert into the office and were politely greeted by a middle-aged, balding man who looked somewhat familiar.

As he bowed over my hand, I remembered that I had met him at one of the Duchess’s parties several years ago, and said a quick prayer of thanks for the recollection, and for my aunt’s friend’s thoroughness in introducing all who attended her evenings.

Eloise Barrington, the Duchess of Fenster, had never overlooked anyone and now I reaped the rewards of her courtesy.

“Madam, my compliments,” said the officer.

“I am Captain Charles Jeffers. I hope your journey has not been too exhausting.” I murmured something vaguely polite.

He gestured for me to sit, and as I did so he sat down behind his desk.

The boys stood on either side of me, and behind us Robert leaned against the wall by the door.

“I am sure you do not remember me,” he said.

“Indeed I do, sir,” I said, grateful that I had. “You were with the Duke of Fenster in France and we met in London.”

His brown eyes lit with pleasure. “How kind you are to recall a simple soldier.” I smiled at him. “I am sorry for your present situation, madam. Are these Kilgannon’s sons?”

“Yes,” I said, introducing them. The boys bowed perfectly.

“Fine-looking boys, madam. They look just like their father.”

“Yes,” I murmured, aware of Robert’s sharp movement behind me.

“And you have been well cared for thus far?”

“We have been treated very well, sir.”

“Good, good. Lord Campbell is, of course, an old acquaintance of yours, I believe,” he said with an inquisitive glance at Robert.

“Yes,” I said mildly. “I have known Lord Campbell forever.”

His nods were rapid. “And you are now going to Edinburgh?”

I said we were.

“I’ll be there soon myself,” he said. “If I can be of any service while you are, please do not hesitate to tell me.”