Page 53 of The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (Kilgannon #2)
TWENTY-ONE
T he kitchen was suddenly filed with men, too many men and too late.
Matthew stepped over Duncan and huddled with me over Angus, trying to stop the bleeding, while around us the men milled without direction.
Thomas took the baby from me, cradling Alex’s son in his practiced arms while he and Dougall gave orders.
I paid no attention as the men hurried to follow their commands, focusing only on Angus, who was conscious and in great pain.
I pulled his shirts and jacket from his chest and wound a makeshift bandage around him, wishing we had a doctor.
Dr. Sutter would come if we asked, I thought and said so, but Angus shook his head.
“No,” he’d said, his voice tight with pain. “We havena time for it. Duncan?”
Thomas shook his head. “He’s gone, Angus,” he said and Angus nodded.
“Get the men gone, Thomas, and get Mary to safety.”
Dougall knelt over Angus, his face twisted with anguish. “Let us get the doctor,” he said hoarsely. “We’ll make time.”
“No,” Angus said roughly. “It willna matter, lad,” he added in a kinder tone. “Take my place, Dougall. Lead the men. And leave no trail to involve Mary’s family.”
The whole world seemed to slow and shrink to Matthew’s hands on his father’s bandages, the blood soaking through the cloth and welling around his fingers.
Behind me I heard the door open and a sharp cry, but turned only when a hand was placed on my shoulder.
I looked up into Randolph’s and Louisa’s shocked faces.
“Get yer niece to safety,” Angus said. “Someone will have heard the shots.” Randolph nodded and then bowed his head as Angus coughed blood. I wiped Angus’s mouth with a gentle hand. “Will ye promise to care for my son, Mary?” he whispered.
“Angus…” I could not continue.
“Promise…” Angus coughed again.
“I promise,” I said and he gave me a weak smile.
“Dinna give up hope, lass. Our Alex is not gone yet.”
“No,” I whispered. “No. Angus, oh, Angus…”
“Aye,” he said. “Aye, Mary, I ken.” He turned to his son.
“Yer a good son, Matthew,” Angus said. “Ye’ve done me proud.
I wish yer mother could have seen ye grown.
Pipe me home, will ye? And tell Alex I’ll see him soon enough and no’ to hurry.
” He closed his eyes and opened them again with visible effort.
“And Dougall.” He looked from Dougall to his son.
“Matthew. Get DeBroun for me. Kill the bastard.” Matthew and Dougall exchanged a look, then nodded.
Next to us Louisa took the baby from Thomas and crooned to him.
Maclean clansmen wrapped Duncan in a plaid and lifted him gently to their shoulders as though he could still be injured.
I stared at the pools of blood left by each man and turned back to Angus, meeting his eyes above his son’s bent head.
He tried to smile, but as I brushed the bloodied hair back from his cheek he closed his eyes again.
Angus opened his eyes only once more, to ask Matthew to bury him next to Mairi, and then he closed his eyes and left us. I listened to Matthew sob, my heart too full for my own tears. I heard the echoes in my dreams.
It was a wild ride to Mountgarden that night.
We arrived without incident, although exhausted and distraught, to be welcomed by Will and Betty.
They were alarmed at our appearance and our story, having heard nothing of what had happened.
I was relieved that they knew none of it, for it meant that no soldiers had come looking for me or the MacGannon men.
Or the boys. The fear that been my companion began to ease and I went to find them.
I held Alex’s sons to me and told them the bare facts of what had happened, my tears mingling with theirs as they sobbed in my arms.
The next day we tensed at each noise outside, but we were unmolested by visitors.
Or soldiers, though we expected DeBroun to have raised them.
As the hours went on, though, we talked less of Edgar DeBroun and more of Angus and Duncan.
At first Matthew stared silently into the distance, but as we sat with whisky and wine the talk grew easier and he joined in.
I sat next to Louisa, her hand in mine, the baby between us, as Thomas told stories of growing up with Angus, and Dougall made us smile with his memories of Angus training him in the arts of war.
We cried and laughed and when the sun rose Matthew said he would meet Gannon’s Lady in Bristol and take his father home.
Despite pleas from my brother and aunt and uncle, I had refused to go with them.
I would not leave England until we knew what would happen to Alex.
We bid Matthew farewell that evening just after sunset and waved as the Kilgannon men rode out of sight.
I watched them leave with a heavy heart.
If only Angus were going home with them , I thought, and then realized he would be.
Randolph and Will accompanied Matthew for a short way and then went to London, despite my pleas that they stay with us.
Will was adamant. His argument, which rendered me speechless, was that we had to know if DeBroun had raised a cry against the MacGannons.
Or the Lowells. Or the Randolphs. Betty, Louisa, and I were poor company for each other until Will and Randolph arrived late the next day.
They brought the news that DeBroun had not surfaced, that London still buzzed with his disappearance, but nothing else.
They brought Kenneth Ogilvie and Gilbey with them as well.
Gilbey’s eyes were haunted and though I tried to comfort him, nothing changed his conviction that he should have been with Angus and Matthew.
We were a subdued group, except for Kenneth, who bristled with suppressed excitement.
Whatever had happened in Edinburgh could not erase our loss, and I did not care what it was.
I stepped away from the group, but turned to find he’d followed me across the room.
“Angus was a fine man and I will miss him,” Kenneth said and I nodded. He took a deep breath. “Mary, I bring news from Edinburgh and you need to hear it. Good news. The Scottish Court of Sessions raised charges against Alex.”
“Good news, Kenneth? How is this good news?” I asked dully, sinking into a chair. Kenneth handed me a sheaf of papers .
“I will tell you,” Kenneth said. I took the papers with apathy.
Will came to my side, Louisa sat at the end of the couch, and Randolph hovered nearby.
“The English commissioners,” Kenneth continued, “the ‘Commissioners Appointed to Enquire of the Estates of certain Traitors in that Part of Great Britain called Scotland,’ cannot lay claim to Kilgannon. The Scottish Court of Sessions has done so already. They have raised charges against Alex and he has been found guilty of those charges. As a result Kilgannon has been seized by the Scottish court. The English commissioners cannot take the land for Alex’s forfeiture. ”
A hollow victory, I thought. I should ask him to leave.
The man is an idiot and I am in no mood to listen to an idiot.
I could not understand his mood. Angus was dead and Alex had been found guilty of treason and might soon face death as well.
What did it matter to us who held Kilgannon if it was not MacGannons?
“What charges were brought by the court?” Randolph asked.
“The Scottish Court of Sessions was applied to by a creditor and his claim was held to be legitimate. Kilgannon cannot be claimed by the English commissioners when a creditor is recognized by the Scottish court as having a valid debt.”
“A creditor? Who is it, Kenneth?” I asked, sure I would know of any outstanding debts.
What had I overlooked? Who could be claiming a debt that I would not recognize?
I could remember no outstanding debt, but even if I did, what difference would it make?
I had no money to pay a debt. The vultures were circling.
“The Duke of Grafton.”
“The Duke of Grafton? Will?” I met Will’s startled eyes .
Kenneth shook his head. “No, Mary. This was before Harry died. It was Harry.” Next to me Will exclaimed.
“My uncle Harry?” I asked stupidly. “I owe Harry a debt?”
“Yes.” Kenneth smiled at my expression. “Harry claims that he loaned Alex money for a new brig and that the brig was never bought and the money never returned. Harry put it in writing.”
“Alex never told me he borrowed money from Harry.”
“Harry went to see Alex in the Tower and had Alex sign a note that admitted a previous debt,” Kenneth said.
I was mystified. Why had Alex never told me he had borrowed money from Harry?
What had he used it for? And when had Alex done this?
The last time we were in London was in 1714, just before Queen Anne died.
It would take the whole day to get to Grafton and back and Alex had never left me for more than a few hours.
It made no sense. “Why does this make you so cheerful?” I asked the lawyer.
Kenneth smiled. “You still don’t understand. What this means is that the English cannot take control of Kilgannon. The Scottish court has control of your lands.”
I gestured sharply. “What difference does this make? If Alex or I do not have control of our lands, what difference to us who does?”
“A very large difference. If the English Commission held Kilgannon, it would sell the land to the highest bidder. That could be anyone. The Scottish court will not allow Kilgannon to be sold until the creditor has been paid. And the court has appointed a new factor for Kilgannon to safeguard its interests.”