Page 7 of The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (Kilgannon #2)

“Like the choice you gave Alex? To join you or be burnt out? Would you have burnt us out? ”

He blinked, startled, and some of the old fire appeared in his eyes as he smiled. And nodded. “Aye. We would have. Had it gone otherwise, aye. I wouldna have done it myself but I wouldna have stopped those who would.”

“How could you?” I hissed.

He considered before he spoke. “In England, Mary, men dinna fight as we do here. They use words and laws to strike at each other’s purses and careers. Here we use claymores and broadswords. It’s much easier to understand.”

I shook my head. “I’ll never understand.”

“Probably no’. But it’s the Highland way. It willna change.”

“Even when it ends like this?”

He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “It’s no’ ended, Mary MacGannon.

As long as there is breath in one of us, it’s no’ ended.

We may live under English domination for a time, but we never live comfortably.

It always eats at us and the seeds of rebellion are always ready for sprouting.

If we fail this time, we will live to rebel again.

Wait and see, Mary. If Scotland is no’ freed this time, we will rise again. ” We stared at each other.

“What will happen now?” I asked.

He shrugged. “We’ll go to France and we’ll try to get France’s support again. If their troops had come we would have won.”

“You outnumbered them four to one. What else did you need?”

He slammed his fist on the table. “A leader. We needed a leader. We needed a man who can lead men and who kens how to fight, who would ha’ won the battles.

Then we needed a man who can play the political games and win.

Ye ken I’m no’ the right man for the politics, and neither is yer Alex, but the right man could.

With the support of France we could have won our freedom. ”

“But you did not.”

“No’ this time.”

“So you will go to France.”

“We will go to France and plan. Come with us, Mary. Come with us and Alex will come. We need him even more the now.”

“Mar hates him. And James Stewart probably as well.”

“Aye.” He sighed. “Mar is at best a poor leader. At worst, a coward and a fool.” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “Come with us, Mary. Keep yerself safe. And Alex’s laddies. Come.”

He met my eyes without flinching and I considered.

What would Alex want me to do? No doubt he would want us away to safety.

But Alex was not here and this decision was mine alone.

The MacDonald was offering safety for the three of us.

I looked around the hall. There were hundreds of people at Kilgannon.

“I thank you for your offer, Sir Donald.”

His eyes narrowed. “But?”

“But I must decline. I cannot leave.”

“Ye mean ye willna leave.”

“I will not leave.”

“Why? Alex will be here soon and he could join ye.”

I waved my hand at the room. “And what of them? Who will keep them safe?”

“Is it no’ better that ye leave for a bit and then return to lead them to freedom than to stay and perhaps perish with them? ”

“No,” I said. His chin lifted and he met my gaze with narrowed eyes. “I will wait for my husband and he will decide. I will not leave without him.”

“And then ye will come to join us?”

“That will be for Alex to decide.”

“If ye come now he will decide to come after ye.”

I shook my head. “I will not go with you.”

The MacDonald considered for a long moment, then stiffly rose and climbed over the bench. He stood straight and turned back to me. “Mary, think again.”

“Sir Donald, I will not leave Kilgannon unprotected.”

“What can a wisp of a girl do against the English army?”

I smiled. “Ask Joan of Arc.”

He laughed then, a harsh bark, and turned to leave. Several steps away he turned back, his grin wide. “Mary MacGannon, I am glad to have met ye.”

I rose and faced him. “And I you, Sir Donald.”

“Come with me, Mary and ask Joan yerself.”

I laughed then. “She’s been dead for centuries, sir.”

“The spirit of freedom never dies, just the bodies of those who attempt to win her. The spirit of freedom will live again.”

I nodded. “I thank you for your invitation.”

“But ye willna come.”

“I will not come.” He nodded and left us then. I looked after him as he went out the door without a backward glance.

The winter continued. I stood every night at the library windows or at the top of the keep, the boys often with me.

We would stare into the distance as if by imagining Alex coming through the glen we could make it so.

The storms continued, one after the other.

I was so tired. I would work most of the night to avoid the dreams that haunted me, and often found myself falling asleep during the day.

One afternoon I sank into a chair in our bedroom and closed my eyes, remembering when Alex had first come into my life.

I was in London, on the steps of the landscaper’s office, waiting for my aunt Louisa and sister-in-law Betty, when I saw him.

Alex was walking toward me, unaware of me watching.

His shoulders swayed with his firm steps, his hair, loose under the hat with the eagle feather, flowed to his shoulders, shining like a flame against the gray wall behind him.

He turned his head and, seeing me, grinned as he moved toward me.

“Miss Mary, are you awake?” I opened my eyes. Ellen stood in the doorway. “Angus has returned on the Margaret with the men.”

I stood immediately. “And Alex?”

Her eyes held an expression of pity. “No.” At my start, she continued quickly. “They say he’s alive. But not with them.”

I was already moving past her. “Where’s Angus?”

“In the courtyard.”

“I’ll go and talk to him.” I started toward the stairs, then turned back to her. “Ellen, wee Donald? Is he here?”

Tears rolled down her cheeks and my heart stopped. Dear God , I prayed, please, not Donald too. Let her have her love back, even if I cannot have mine . She nodded and I breathed again.

“He’s here.” Her voice broke. “Praise God, he’s here.”

I embraced her. “I am so happy for you, my dear friend.”

“Miss Mary, I wish…”

I stopped her with another embrace. “I know, Ellen, and I thank you.” I turned away before she could comment, but I could not still the voice in my head that asked questions and then answered them.

The cloud of fear I had lived with for so long surrounded me and I stood, frozen, at the top of the stairs, terrified of what I’d find below.

I was still there, staring downward, when Angus appeared at the foot, just removing his gloves.

He looked up at me, his face ashen. My heart started thumping as I watched him. This was more than weariness.

“Mary.” Angus’s voice was grim. “We must talk.”

“Where is he?” I asked as I descended.

Angus shook his head. “I dinna ken. He was alive when I left him,” he said, his voice toneless. I felt the cloud of fear thicken around me.

“Angus? Where is he?” My voice was no more than a whisper.

“I left him on the shore of Loch Linnhe.”

“Why?” I stood before him now and looked up into his eyes. “Why, Angus? Why is he not with you? Where is he?”

“Probably with Robert Campbell.”

Robert . The name hit me like a blow and I swayed.

I had known it. Somehow I had known that the two men, rivals so long ago for my affections, were destined to cross paths again.

Robert would of course be with Argyll’s forces.

If the Campbells were fighting with the English troops and Argyll was their leader, Robert could be nowhere else.

Alex had not mentioned him, but now I heard the echo of Robert’s words years ago in London.

“In Scotland we are enemies,” he had said. Dear God, what had happened?

Angus folded me in a rough embrace and I clung to him.

Alex’s cousin was a big man, larger even than Alex.

Barrel-chested and huge, he could be very intimidating.

He had cut his hair short, as all the men had done before they left for war, but it was the same silky golden blond as Alex’s, his blue eyes a shade lighter and now, as he released me, filled with tears.

“Has Alex been taken prisoner?” I asked.

“I dinna ken, Mary. He was free when I left him.”

I looked around the hall, now full of the men who had been with Angus, wearily sitting, shoulders slumped, women clustering around them. Gilbey, the boy’s tutor and an ally for me before he’d gone to war, gave me a wan smile, but no other man would meet my eyes.

“Come and tell me,” I said and Angus nodded, letting me lead him to the library, where he settled heavily into the chair.

“Where’s Matthew?” I asked, realizing I’d not seen him.

Angus’s son, tall, handsome Matthew, was never far from his father’s side, nor Gilbey’s, for they were fast friends.

Matthew , I thought with a pang as I settled into the chair opposite.

“With Alex.” Angus stared at the fire and I waited.

I was sure Alex and Matthew had been taken by the English.

It had been in my mind since Sherrifmuir and then Perth.

For all the Kilgannon men to get safely home across a country filled with victorious enemies would have been a miracle.

That so many had come home at all was a blessing.

Why couldn’t my husband have been among them?

I struggled with my panic as the serving girl Leitis brought in the whisky and food.

I poured a glass for Angus and he sipped it, silently watching the fire. At last I spoke again.

“I know Kilgannon’s lost and I know there will be reprisals.” I struggled to keep my voice from trembling. “I know Alex is alive and Matthew as well and somehow Robert’s in the middle of it. Now tell me the rest. It can be no worse than my imaginings.”

His gaze lifted and met mine. “Och, Mary, yer right, and I’m sorry for my rudeness. I’ve been sitting here thinking my own thoughts and forgetting that ye dinna ken what happened.”