Page 46 of The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (Kilgannon #2)

EIGHTEEN

R obert stepped boldly onto the courtroom floor dressed in his military uniform, with a Campbell plaid thrown over his shoulder.

He looked tall and powerful. And very handsome.

The crowd stirred as he crossed the floor and nodded to Alex.

Alex watched Robert approach with a stony expression, then he looked for my reaction and I met his eyes as hundreds watched.

Robert was sworn in as Lord Robert Duncan Campbell, Major of the Campbell Brigade, formerly in the command of the Duke of Argyll.

Alex’s lawyer questioned him about his military experience and stressed how very distinguished Robert’s career had been.

No taint of disloyalty had ever touched Robert, which made his answers to the questions all the more compelling.

He’d been promoted, it seemed, after the battle at Sherrifmuir, to major.

With a comment that the men who had testified earlier might not have seen all that had happened, he declared that Alex had had no choice but to defend himself and that to his regret, and in complete defiance of his orders, Douglas Campbell had been the aggressor.

“I would have done the same in Kilgannon’s position, sir,” Robert said in his clear voice.

“Indeed, my own arm was raised to stop Douglas when Kilgannon did. I would advise the court to dismiss this charge, your honor. We were at war and cannot consider every death to be murder. Kilgannon defended himself well and bravely and if anyone caused Douglas’s death, it was himself. ”

The crowd erupted with discussion, and the judge, obviously as surprised as the rest of us at Robert’s testimony, had to call for order several times.

During the fracas Robert turned to gaze at Alex.

When their eyes met in a long look, Alex raised a hand in salute and Robert nodded, then turned away as the judge spoke.

“Lord Campbell, we will consider your remarks,” Webster said and cleared his throat. “Now, as to the charge of high treason, have you ever seen Kilgannon in the presence of Jacobites?”

Robert nodded. “At the battle of Sherrifmuir, your honor.”

“And where was he, Lord Campbell?”

“Across the field, fighting under General Gordon.”

“Have you any doubt he was fighting for the Stewart cause?”

“He was with the Jacobites, your honor. I have no doubt that Kilgannon was fighting for the Stewarts.”

“Fighting the forces of the King of England.”

“I am sure he felt he was fighting for the freedom of Scotland,” Robert replied.

“Thank you, Lord Campbell,” Webster said. “That will be all.”

Robert stepped down and as he passed, Alex leaned over the railing and spoke quietly to him. Robert nodded up at Alex and then both looked at me.

London buzzed again. I did not sleep that night.

* * *

Friday was interminable. I spent it in a state of alarm.

Angus had been at my side throughout the proceedings, silent for the most part, but I’d found comfort in his presence.

But this morning Angus had not arrived to come with us, nor was Duncan with our escort.

Randolph and I had asked the men when they arrived where Angus and Duncan were, but had received no answer.

My uneasiness grew with every moment as we traveled to Westminster.

When we were seated, Randolph talked to Harry in a quiet voice, but when he straightened I could tell he had gotten no information.

Randolph gave me a glance, shaking his head, and I battled another wave of fear.

Harry, Angus, and Duncan were plotting something, and if they had not taken Randolph into their confidence it was very likely that they were doing something which neither of us would approve.

Harry rubbed his arm and kept his silence.

After a long delay Alex was led to the dock and the judges filed in. Lord Webster announced without preamble that the charges against Alex of the murder of Douglas Campbell had been dismissed, but I barely heard him. Only four judges were seated on the dais.

Edgar DeBroun was missing.

The morning was spent in yet again bringing witnesses who had seen Alex at Sherrifmuir or in the company of Jacobites, but there was nothing new and the crowd and I grew restless.

No mention of DeBroun’s absence had been made, and I found myself looking at his empty chair as if it could explain where he was.

Just before noon Lord Webster dismissed the witness and leaned forward to silently stare at Alex.

Alex met his look with a wintry expression of his own.

The moment went on for far too long and at last the judge straightened and spoke, his tone mild.

“Lord Kilgannon, are you aware that the Jacobite cause has several symbols affiliated with it?”

Alex nodded. “If ye mean the Stewart crest and badge, I ken them.”

“There is a white cockade that Jacobites wear in their hats.”

“I’ve seen it, your honor.”

“It is a symbol of a flower, I’m told. A rose. And the rose, a white rose, can also thus be considered to be a symbol of the Jacobite cause.” He paused. “Can you tell me why you call one of your ships the Mary Rose ?”

Alex raised his chin. “The Mary Rose is named after my wife, your honor.”

“Your wife’s name is Mary Rose?”

“My wife’s name is Mary.”

Lord Webster appeared bemused. “Yet you named your ship the Mary Rose . You added the name Rose to your wife’s name?”

Alex looked across the room to me and smiled. “I did.”

“After the Jacobite cause.”

“No. After the flower,” Alex said calmly. “There are wild roses in Scotland, sir, and white ones grow near our home.”

“White roses. The symbol of the Jacobite cause.”

“To some. In my home it was only a very beautiful flower. And a wild rose, your honor. I dinna plant it. God did.”

“Do you not think it strange that you call your wife a name that also symbolizes the cause for which you later fought?”

“No.” He paused and then smiled. “The rose has been used for centuries to describe beautiful women, and it has been used as a symbol by many causes. I do not call my wife or the ship Mary Rose to back the Jacobite cause. Nor to back the York or Lancaster causes either. Ye have heard of the War of the Roses?”

The crowd laughed and Alex grinned at the judge, then turned to me. I smiled in return, but the judge was not amused. Alex , I thought, tread lightly . Webster appeared to ponder.

“Why do you call your wife Mary Rose?” he asked.

Alex’s cheeks flamed, but his tone was as mild as the judge’s. “It is a beautiful flower, sir, and a splendid name for a beautiful woman. And it is no concern of this court.”

Webster merely nodded and announced that the trial was in recess for the day. How the gossips loved it.

We had little to say at luncheon except to ask each other over and over where Angus and Duncan were.

And Edgar DeBroun. My fears rose that evening when only Kenneth Ogilvie joined us at dinner.

Harry and Angus had come every night, but tonight neither appeared nor did they send messages, although when we had parted at the courtroom Harry had said he would see us this evening.

We did not know where Angus was lodging and had no way of reaching him.

I hung the plaid from my window but it did nothing.

And our notes to Harry went unanswered. At last Randolph went to Harry’s lodgings himself, but Harry was not there, nor did his staff know where he was.

It was a very long evening and my nightly letter to the boys was stilted.

Will had written that Betty’s condition was the same and asked Louisa to have Dr. Sutter visit them.

Louisa wrote to the doctor at once and wrote Will with the news that Dr. Sutter would go to Grafton as soon as possible.

I wrote as well, telling him all that had happened and sending my love and prayers for Betty.

I didn’t tell him my fear, that we both could lose the people we loved.

On Saturday afternoon the Duchess arrived, her usual bustle replaced with tight-lipped anxiety, and my heart sank as I saw her mood. She dropped into a chair next to me. What now ? I wondered.

“Where is Louisa? Oh, Mary, my dear,” she said breathlessly. “All of London is talking. How can you be so calm?”

I blinked at her, mystified. “What, Your Grace?”

She interrupted as though I had not spoken. “This morning the court reconvened to discuss it, and even the king has been told. What shall we do? What shall we do?” She fluttered her hands before her face and pulled her gloves off with jerky motions. “Oh, this is dreadful! Oh dear.”

“Your Grace, please, what is it you mean? What has happened?”

“DeBroun asked you to marry him! Or be his mistress! What a villain! What a to-do this has caused! The Duke is most distressed! And your uncle Harry has challenged him to a duel!”

I leapt to my feet. “Harry has challenged the Duke to a duel? ”

She shook her head violently. “No, child, not the Duke. Harry has challenged DeBroun to a duel.”

I stared at her, incredulous. “Tell me this is not true!”

“You had not heard?”

“No, Your Grace. No one visits us now but you and Becca’s mother. Oh, where is Louisa?” I ran for the door.

A few moments later we’d found Louisa and Randolph, and the Duchess told her story, punctuating it with her comments.

Harry and Angus, she said, had gone to DeBroun’s house on Friday night, where they had burst into his dinner party.

With Angus holding pistols at the ready, Harry had delivered his challenge before the stunned assembly and then left as DeBroun raged at them.