Page 51 of The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (Kilgannon #2)

TWENTY

O ur son was born in the late morning. I named him Alexander Robert Harold Lowell Keith MacGannon and I wept from exhaustion and sorrow and joy as he was handed to me, with thanks to God that he was whole, and with sorrow that his father might never see him.

I wept for all our losses and then I slept.

The childbirth had proved the least of my worries, I reflected the next day.

Unsure of what to expect, I had waited through the hours of labor with a growing fear of what lay ahead of me and a persistent worry that I might not survive and might leave Ian and Jamie orphans.

I had woken Louisa in the wee hours when the pains had persisted, and she had roused the household.

The midwife, cheerful despite being roused from her slumbers, had assured me that the labor, while not pleasant, was very routine.

And hours later, as I lay exhausted, with the baby at my side, she told me that the delivery had been normal.

Both the baby and I, she said, were doing fine.

The details I chose not to remember, but the moment my son, solid and healthy, was put into my arms, I forgot the struggle to bring him into the world.

Will and Betty had raced to London and arrived the next afternoon, bringing the boys with them. I sighed now as I looked at Alex’s sons examining their new brother.

“He’s very wrinkled, Mama,” said Ian worriedly.

“Babies are like that,” I said with a smile.

“And he’s very red,” said Jamie, his hair falling over his forehead. I brushed it back and thought of the night I’d met Alex. My love, my love , I thought, and kissed his second son.

Ian snuggled against me and I put my arm around him. “He’s really small,” he said. “Really small.”

“He’s a baby,” Louisa said. “You two looked just like he does when you were first born.”

“Yuck,” said Jamie and the boys laughed. I met Louisa’s eyes over their heads and she smiled, although her weariness and worry were apparent. I returned her smile and refused to think.

In the next few days Will threw all of his newfound political power into helping Alex’s cause, but no one from the Court was listening and I watched the men all grow silent.

Our requests to see Alex had been denied and no one could even tell me if my letter to Alex telling him of our son’s birth had reached him, for Gilbey was not allowed to visit either.

Angus or Matthew visited us every evening.

They still held DeBroun, they said, but had not harmed him, despite Duncan’s wishes.

They’d decided to wait until the sentence, for DeBroun had hinted that Alex might receive only imprisonment.

And if Alex was alive there was always hope that Kenneth Ogilvie would be successful in his attempt to have the indictment overturned.

I did not argue with them, though I thought their optimism misplaced .

The baby cheered everyone, though, and I smiled to see the big men hold Alex’s son and gently touch his tiny hands and face. Angus cooed to him and smiled and more than once wiped a tear away when he thought no one was looking.

Twenty days passed and still Alex’s sentence had not been delivered.

Everyone insisted that I go to Mountgarden with the boys, and I did not argue.

We needed two coaches, for there would be eight of us.

Will and Betty went in the first coach with the boys, leaving just after breakfast. I was to follow with Louisa, the baby, and his nurse within the hour, but the coachman was not pleased with one of the wheels, and before we knew it, it was afternoon and snowing.

We sent a messenger to find Will with a note saying Louisa and I would leave in the morning.

It snowed all the next day as well. Randolph did not want us to travel in this storm, and neither Louisa nor I were eager to do so.

The day drew to a close, ending with clear skies and stars, and I knew we’d leave in the morning.

I roamed the house with my baby asleep in my arms and stepped out onto the ballroom balcony, staring up at the darkening sky and remembering.

I shivered at the cold, thinking that it was time to oversee the last of the packing and give the baby to his nurse.

As I turned to go inside, I saw a man moving rapidly through the gardens toward the kitchen.

A tall man. Without stopping to think, I hurried to the kitchen and found Matthew flinging off a cloak and handing it to Bronson.

Both men turned as I entered, and Matthew’s jaw dropped.

“Mary! Why are ye here? I thought ye’d gone to Mountgarden.”

I shifted the baby and pointed at the window. “The storm. The boys went ahead with Will and Betty. We were delayed and the storm hit and we stayed. We’re leaving in the morning. Why, Matthew? What’s happening?”

Randolph entered before Matthew could answer and stood next to me, a hand on my shoulder. “Hello, Matthew,” he said.

“I would talk with ye, Randolph,” Matthew said.

“Of course,” my uncle said, gesturing me before him. He turned to Bronson as we left the room. “You’ve seen no one.”

Bronson nodded. “No, sir, no one.”

Randolph led us to the library. As soon as the door was closed, Matthew turned to us. “They’ve found us,” he said. “We’ve had to move DeBroun.”

“Where?” Randolph asked.

“He’s at Harry’s town house the now. We leave in an hour to bring him to the Mary Rose . I came to warn ye and to find out what ye ken. Have ye heard anything?”

Randolph shook his head. “No.”

“Matthew,” I said, “what news of Alex?”

“None. Gilbey wasna allowed to see him yet again. Ye need to go, Mary. The soldiers will be coming here. We barely got out of Harry’s cottage.”

“Your father? Is everyone all right?”

“Dougall took a shot in the shoulder but he’ll survive. But the English are not holding back.”

Randolph moved to the door as Matthew was speaking, and opened it. Bronson was, as I would have guessed, just on the other side. Randolph looked at him without a change of expression.

“Tell Lady Randolph to prepare to leave at once,” he said and turned back to us, leaving the door open. “You’re leaving now, Mary.” I nodded and started to answer, then froze as we all heard the pounding on the front door.

“They’re here already,” Matthew said and started for the door to the hall, drawing his sword from its scabbard as he moved.

“No, this way,” said Randolph, shutting the library door and opening the tall window next to him.

With a quick glance around the garden, Matthew stepped through the window and turned back to us.

The library door opened. I turned, fearful of what I’d see, but it was Bronson who entered, closing the door behind him.

“Soldiers are here to search the house again, sir,” he said.

“They wish to question Lady Mary and any Scots they find. Lady Randolph told them that Lady Mary has gone to Grafton with her sons. She says for you to get Mary and the baby out of the house while she delays them.” He held out two cloaks, Matthew’s and one of mine.

Without a word, Matthew stepped back through the window, took his cloak and reached for the baby.

Randolph sprang into movement, throwing the cloak around my shoulders.

“Go, for God’s sake,” said Randolph, bundling me toward Matthew. “And Godspeed. I’ll see you at Mountgarden.”

“Aye, sir,” said Matthew and handed me through the window. Randolph closed it behind us before I had time to speak at all.

We raced through the dark streets, Matthew pulling me along and holding the baby, who was mercifully silent.

We arrived at Harry’s town house without incident, recognized at once by the Maclean who guarded the kitchen garden, and were led through vacant storerooms, the counters empty and windows shuttered.

Only a candle or two glowed in each room, and none of Harry’s staff was visible.

The Kilgannon men exclaimed to see me, not pleased, and Matthew met their curious looks with curt nods.

“Where’s my father?” was all he said, and we were taken to Angus.

Thomas was ministering to Dougall in the kitchen while Angus and others watched. Matthew entered first and Angus glanced up and then back to Dougall. “Took ye long enough,” Angus said. “Did ye tell Randolph?”

“Da,” said Matthew and Angus looked up again, his expression at first puzzled, then angry as he saw me in the doorway.

“Mary!” Angus cried. “What in God’s name are ye doing here? Mo Dia , lass, yer supposed to be at Mountgarden. Matthew…?”

“Soldiers, Da,” Matthew answered. “They came to Randolph’s looking for Mary. We only just got out before them.”

“They’re looking for all of you, Angus,” I said, shifting the baby. I explained why we’d been delayed in leaving, and Angus shook his head unhappily and sighed.

“We have to get ye somewhere safe, lass, as soon as we can leave,” he said and gestured to Thomas, still poulticing Dougall’s shoulder.

Thomas gave me a smile. When I offered assistance the men all looked askance and Dougall said he was fine, though I saw him favoring the arm.

He said he wanted to see the baby, and I showed him Alex’s son while the other men gathered around the child.

Thomas pulled Dougall’s shirt back over the shoulder and gave Dougall a pat.

“Ye’ll do, laddie,” he said and Dougall rose.

“Let’s go, lads,” Angus said. “The English will be here before long. We’re off to the Mary Rose , lass, and we’re staying close to London.

I sent Gannon’s Lady to Bristol in case we needed her to escape, and I’ve sent men to Grafton and Mountgarden to warn ye there of the situation. I expected ye to be there by now.”

I nodded unhappily. I had imagined the boys safe with Will and Betty, but now was struck with fear for them, picturing soldiers riding to the door. I should never have let them leave without me , I thought. Dear God , I prayed, keep my boys safe .