Page 35 of The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (Kilgannon #2)
THIRTEEN
W e’d known of the Maxwells, but had never met them.
William, the fifth Earl of Nithsdale, Jacobite to the bone, had joined the rebellion early on and had traveled south with one branch of the rebel army.
He’d been captured at Preston, after the defeat there, summarily tried, and found guilty of treason.
Imprisoned in the Tower after being sentenced to death, he had been allowed frequent visits from his wife, Winifred.
The night before his execution, the same day I’d seen Alex, Lady Nithsdale had visited her husband one last time.
And stood at his door saying her farewells, sobbing and being comforted by her maid.
She’d left the Tower at once, still inconsolable, her maid bending over her.
It was not until the guards came to take Nithsdale back to his cell that the real maid was discovered huddled in a corner.
We heard later that the Maxwells had escaped to Rome.
As a result of their deception, Alex was allowed no visitors but his valet.
Bronson, coached in his part by all in Louisa’s household and endlessly instructed by Uncle Harry, went to the Tower every day seeking admittance.
And on the third day he gained it. He re ported that Alex was well, not mistreated, and in good spirits.
And that he wanted Gilbey to come at once.
Money, Bronson reported, would gain all sorts of special favors, and he’d been able to smuggle some whisky in, for which Alex was very grateful.
I watched the self-satisfied butler, knowing I was indebted to him for his efforts, and thanked him as graciously as I could.
On my own, I redoubled my efforts to find Angus, and that night I hung a MacGannon plaid out my bedroom window in the hope that someone was watching.
I was very frustrated. I had written to the king and ministers and every member of Parliament that I had ever been introduced to, to no avail.
Most never even answered my letters. I had asked my uncles to contact anyone who could assist us.
With their intervention the officials listened more often, but nothing had really changed.
I’d trudged from apartment to apartment, from office to office, waiting for hours to finally see some minor official who listened with boredom.
Occasionally I would receive a cordial welcome and an introduction to the next level of official, and while that was always welcome I’d seen no results from my efforts.
Nor my money, though I was lavish in my “gifts.”
Will and Betty had returned to Mountgarden and I missed my brother terribly.
Louisa was always at my side, and Randolph and Harry had been kind and generous, but what I wanted was news from Angus.
It was as though London had swallowed him.
And then, two weeks after I’d seen Alex, on a warm, late summer evening, I received an invitation written in the Duchess’s bold hand.
The Barringtons were having a party. Almost all of London had retired to the country for the summer, and the Duchess’s affair heralded the new season and the return of society.
I shook my head, but Louisa told me firmly that I would be going, saying I could not refuse her dear friend’s invitation.
No one had visited me since my return to London except for the Duchess and for Rebecca’s mother, Sarah, both as kind and welcoming as ever.
While I was grateful to them for their friendship and loyalty, I was sure I would prove unable to spend a social evening in London.
I held the Duchess’s invitation in my hand and then threw it on the table. “I cannot. I will not.”
Louisa retrieved the invitation. “Mary,” she began, her tone threatening, but we were interrupted by a maid, who handed me a letter.
She did not know who it was from, nor who had brought it, and said that no one was waiting for a reply.
I held the note in my hand, my heart pounding as I recognized Angus’s handwriting.
He asked me to pay my respects to Elizabeth again tomorrow afternoon.
I went alone. And waited for two hours, anxiously walking around the Abbey, watching everyone who entered.
I heard no voices this time as I wandered past the queens and the poets, merely my own turbulent thoughts, and I asked myself how I, Mary Lowell MacGannon, had ended up pacing in Westminster Abbey, waiting for my husband’s kinsman to tell me of his plans to free my husband from the Tower of London.
My husband, who I loved more than my life; my husband, considered a traitor to my country.
How does one define loyalty? I waited another few minutes before dispiritedly walking outside, my head bowed, and almost bumped into a tall man at the door.
I quickly stepped aside, then looked up at him in alarm as he grasped my arm.
He wore English clothing and for a moment I did not recognize Gilbey.
His whispered welcome was warm and I looked up into his smile.
“Gilbey,” I said, embracing him. “Where is Angus? And Matthew? How are you all? Why haven’t I heard from you?” Gilbey smiled down at me, but said nothing as he guided me to the street and into a coach which began moving as soon as the door closed.
Angus, seated opposite, gave me a subdued greeting as we sped along the bumpy streets.
He looked drawn and weary and out of place here, and despite being dressed in English clothing, very much the Highlander.
He nodded when I chastised him for not contacting me.
“I apologize for all the secrecy, Mary, but ye ken we were betrayed in Edinburgh and I’ve no desires to repeat the incident.
Ye’ve heard about Nithsdale.” At my nod he continued.
“Several of the English prisoners have been ‘released’ with help from friends and well-placed money. But the Scottish prisoners are going to be used as examples of what happens when a mere Gael defies the Crown.” Our eyes met, his angry.
“I’ve seen Alex,” I said and told them of my visit and of Alex’s messages.
Angus nodded but made no comment. Gilbey’s face had lit when he’d heard that Alex had requested him as his valet, and he’d started asking questions, but Angus silenced him with a glance, then asked about the boys and my family.
I told him they were all well, of Harry’s interest in “another” plan and his insistence on seeing him. And then of the Duchess’s invitation.
“Well, lass, it seems as though yer making more progress than we. Ye should go to it and see what ye learn. ”
“I don’t want to go.”
“And I dinna want to have my son drinking with English soldiers to hear the gossip, but it needs to be done,” he growled. “Go and discover what ye can, Mary, and meet with me after and we’ll see if it changes anything. Will ye do that?”
“Yes,” I said and he nodded. We sat in silence as the coach leaned around a corner. “What are you going to do?” I asked him.
“I canna tell ye.” At my exclamation, Angus continued in a patient tone.
“I asked ye here, Mary, to tell ye that we are alive, that we have no’ abandoned Alex, nor ye and the boys.
It is no’ going well, but we are still trying.
And to tell ye that ye need have no fear of recognizing me if we meet.
I ken ye said that ye would pretend no’ to know me, but it willna be necessary. ”
I nodded. “Why?”
“Enough of the English ken who I am to render me useless in secrecy, but I have Matthew and Gilbey to do what requires it. Even if Gilbey becomes Alex’s valet, I still have Matthew.”
“Angus, what are you doing that requires secrecy?”
“Nothing alarming. Ye need no’ look daggers at me, lass. We canna spring Alex out of the Tower by force without an army, and even with the men from Kilgannon I still dinna have an army. Even if the Macleans arrive I still willna have one. So dinna fear that we are to lay siege to yer Tower.”
“It’s not my Tower.”
“It’s more yers than mine.”
“No. Not anymore.” His eyes met mine and he almost smiled.
“Angus,” I said, “why don’t you three come and stay with Louisa and Randolph?
They told me to tell you that you are all welcome.
Come and join us and at least we’ll all be together.
The boys would love to see you. And I would love to have you with me. ”
Angus leaned forward into the light, his expression softened.
“I canna do that, Mary. If we are successful, then the trail would lead right back to ye and to yer aunt and uncle. The English already ken I’m yer husband’s cousin, but it’s no’ the same as if I’m living with yer family.
It’s no’ wise, lass. I canna have any of ye come to any grief because of what I do. ”
“Angus, please, remember that Alex does not want this.” He looked at the floor for a moment, nodded, and asked me to ask Harry to arrange a visit with Alex. I agreed and he thanked me, then lifted the curtain and glanced out the window.
“Matthew would like to see ye. If yer willing?”
“Oh, yes, of course.” He leaned out to say something to the driver.
We rode in silence for a few moments and then came to an abrupt stop.
The door flew open and Matthew propelled himself inside, breathless and grinning, smelling of ale, and the coach hurtled forward.
He was dressed in the clothing of an English peasant, no more convincing than his father in his outlandish dress, but passable. His energy filled the coach.
“Mary, I knew Gilbey would find ye! How are ye?”
“Matthew.” We embraced awkwardly in the cramped quarters.
Angus watched his son. “Did ye discover anything?”