Page 50 of The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (Kilgannon #2)
We found seats in a row toward the front.
Strangers moved kindly aside to let us pass, though I did hear whispers announcing who we were.
It must not have been very long that we waited, but it seemed like an eternity.
At last there was a shuffle of feet as uniformed soldiers, heavily armed, moved in to line the walls of the floor of the court, many more than had ever been present before.
The judges filed into the dais, their faces unreadable.
There was still an empty chair. The lawyers and clerks entered until the courtroom floor was filled.
And the crowd waited, the tension palpable.
Alex was brought in then, his back straight.
He scanned the room once then focused on the gallery, nodding at someone.
He does not know I am here , I thought. The crowd stirred restively and from somewhere on my left came the cry, “Set him free!” in English and then in Gaelic.
It sounded like Matthew and I turned to see if it was but saw only a sea of faces.
I turned back when a voice came from the dais.
“Kilgannon,” Lord Webster said, “we will deliver your verdict and sentence this morning. Do you understand that?”
Alex nodded. “Aye, your honor. Let’s have it done.”
The judge nodded. “Sir, I must admonish you that I will tolerate no outbreaks from the audience.”
Alex smiled grimly. “Your honor, I must inform ye I am no’ in control of the audience. Ye might note I’m the prisoner here.”
The judge ignored the laughs from the crowd. “You have been a difficult man to deal with, Kilgannon.”
Alex raised his chin and grinned. “Thank ye, sir. It is at last a charge I dinna argue with.”
Webster narrowed his eyes as he glared at Alex, then folded his arms before him and leaned over them.
“It is the finding of this court that you, Ian Alexander James Fraser Mackenzie MacGannon, the former Earl of Kilgannon, Scotland”—he paused and glanced around the room—“are guilty of high treason against…”
The roar of the crowd drowned his words.
Alex bent his head, his eyes closed, but a moment later his chin rose as he looked at the judge again.
“ No! ” I did not mean to scream nor to stand but I did.
“No, no, no, no!” Hands reached for me but I fought them off, laboring to reach Alex.
Someone was calling my name. Around me the crowd had erupted into chaos and someone was pounding on something.
“Mary!” I heard Alex’s roar and strained to see him. He was out of the box, charging across the floor, and then he disappeared in the mass of uniforms that attacked him.
“Alex!” I screamed again and this time managed to get to the aisle. “Alex!” He came to the surface once, arms thrashing, but they subdued him at last and the hands pulled me to a seat.
“Quiet! Quiet!” thundered Lord Webster, pounding harder, as the crowd surged forward and the uniforms dragged my unconscious and bleeding husband out of the courtroom.
Behind me I heard the MacGannon war cry and armed men spilled onto the floor.
The judges, with fearful glances at the men closing in on them, rushed out of the room, Webster at their lead.
The crowd filled the floor of the court and banged on the closed doors.
I had the thought that I should simply walk across the floor of the court and go to Alex and that’s what I tried to do, except that as I stood at the top of the stairs I saw, through the masses of legs and feet, blood on the floor. Alex’s blood. And I fainted.
Hands must have caught me and put me gently on a bench, for I woke without a bruise, to look up into loved faces.
But not his. Louisa and Angus bent over me, Angus turning his head to say something to someone out of sight.
I closed my eyes again. Strong arms lifted me and I felt the wool of a plaid against my cheek.
“Make way,” Angus bellowed as he carried me up the stairs.
“Make way for the Countess of Kilgannon.” He carried me to the anteroom, down the stairs, and outside, Randolph running ahead to call the carriage.
Angus put me on my feet with a pat on my arm and a glare at the crowd.
I stood shakily at the curb with Louisa, Randolph’s arm around me, and I stared into the air and clung to my uncle.
Louisa was murmuring comforting things and brushing my hair back with gentle hands.
Guilty , I thought. Guilty of treason. Dear God .
I closed my eyes again against the roaring in my head.
Guilty . Alex, unconscious, beaten as he tried to reach me.
At Louisa’s I lay in my bed while Louisa and Randolph hovered nearby.
I stared at the ceiling. Angus and Matthew and Gilbey leaned against the wall of my bedroom, silent, their mouths drawn in tight lines, but they would not leave, even when Louisa reminded them that they’d been seen and no doubt recognized.
“I have requested another audience with the king,” Randolph said. We all looked at him in surprise. “I had requested it beforehand, just in case. It cannot hurt. The Duke and Duchess have sent word that they will do the same.”
“Thank you,” I said hoarsely and watched Randolph’s eyes fill with tears as he turned away. “We will talk with everyone who will listen,” I said. “There is still hope.” I met Angus’s blue eyes, so like Alex’s, but so anguished now. “There is still hope.”
Angus nodded grimly. “Aye, lass. There is still hope. While Alex is alive there is still hope.”
“Yes,” I said and dared them to tell me otherwise.
It was more difficult to convince myself in the hours between dusk and dawn when I haunted the halls of Louisa’s house wrapped in Alex’s plaid, seeing his face when the verdict had been announced.
And what must he be thinking now, alone in his cell?
The cruelest part was his isolation. As if they did not know that well , I thought bitterly.
It was nearly impossible to convince myself to hope as I stood in Louisa’s ballroom and remembered seeing him for the first time.
Never again , I thought. We’ll never stand together again, anywhere .
I whispered his name and then felt the first contractions.
I put my hands on my middle and realized I was having Alex’s baby.