The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (34 page)

"Kilgannon," Lord Webster said, "we will deliver your verdict and sentence this morning. Do you understand that?"

Alex nodded. "Aye, your
honour
. 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
honour
, 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 die 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 gen-de 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.

O
UR SON WAS BORN IN THE LATE MO
RNING,
I NAMED him Alexander Ro
bert Harold Lowell Keith MacGan
non 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 e
very
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 Mount-garden 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 Mount-garden. Matthew... V

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