Kilgannon (40 page)

After the meal I watched Malcolm lean over to Alex and speak to him in a quiet tone. Alex looked at his brother without expression, but I knew him well enough now to see his resistance. He watched Malcolm with his lips in a firm line, his fingers white on the cup in his hand. And then, after staring into the distance, he nodded. Angus and Murdoch exchanged a look.

The brothers closeted themselves in the library. At first Angus was with them and the shouting of all three could be heard in the corridor. When it at last quieted I relaxed, but still Alex did not come out. Angus said nothing to me when he emerged, simply nodded as he took the stairs three at a time. Hours later I went to bed alone, comforted only by the thought that had they not reached some sort of accord Alex would have been out of there much earlier. When he crept into bed in the wee hours, I woke and reached out to him, surprised to find his cheeks wet. "What happened, my love?" I asked as he pulled me to his chest.

He gave a shaky sigh. "I dinna want to go through it all, lass, but my family is whole again. For the now, at least, and I willna think more on it." He stroked my shoulder and kissed my hair. "Malcolm wearies me more than anyone on earth. He does vile things and then begs me to forgive him. I dinna ken what to believe anymore, so I've decided to believe what I wish to be the truth. And I'll leave it at that."

I wrapped my arms around him and stroked his back. "If you are content, Alex, then I am. Perhaps we can have peace now."

"Aye. Perhaps," he said, and sighed again. But I knew in my heart that despite my best intentions I would never forget, nor forgive, what Malcolm had done, and while I was pleased for Alex that the brothers were again in harmony, I doubted that it would hold long. The leopard does not change its spots, I told myself.

But the leopard behaved himself admirably during his visit. Matthew refused to be anything but icily polite, as did Angus. Most guests seemed not to notice anything amiss, but Murdoch and Duncan and Sir Donald did. All three watched

Alex and Malcolm. I saw Malcolm talking earnestly to Murdoch but could tell from Murdoch's stance that Malcolm had much more to do to convince Murdoch of his sincerity. Duncan took his brother's cues and stayed distant from Malcolm. The MacDonald watched from under his bushy eyebrows, missing nothing, not even me watching him watching them. He winked at me once, and I knew he saw much more than he'd ever let on.

But there was more going on in the Highlands that summer of 1714 than the disagreements between the MacGannon brothers. The mood among the guests was rebellious and resentment toward the English high. No one said anything impolite to me, for which I was grateful and which I believed was due to the clan's unabashed acceptance of me. The MacGannons gathered around me protectively when the conversations centered on the sins of the English. None of them overtly guarded me, but the message was clear, and for the first time I understood what Alex had been trying tell me when he'd said that the Countess of Kilgannon was a protected person.

And then the Games were over and we bade farewell to all of the guests, even Malcolm and Sibeal. Kilgannon seemed at once both peaceful and isolated. Matthew had already returned to university and I knew we would miss him every day again, but we were busy, for it was time for us to prepare for the winter.

The men went on the cattle drive again this year, but Alex stayed behind. Thomas and Angus were joined instead by several of the younger men who were anxious to take part. Angus had laughed at Alex's delighted expression when told that the party was well filled. To my surprise Gilbey's request to join the group was readily welcomed. He was thrilled. When I told Alex of my amazement, he shrugged and said Gilbey needed the experience. He stood at my side and grinned as we watched the herders ride off.

The next two days it rained but we were merry, for Alex had determined that the women were much too melancholy about the men being gone. He was loud and silly as he roamed the castle, and I could stand still and listen to his laughter ring from wherever he was. Soon we all were laughing. The third morning dawned clear and bright, if cool, and Alex woke me with a kiss. He wore ancient trews and a warm shirt and told me to wear an old gown and walking shoes and my warm cloak. He left with a smile but without an explanation. When I came downstairs he was strapping a bundle to his back and told me with a grin that we were going for a walk, but refused to say where. He told Ellen that the boys were hers for the day and warned them to behave. Ellen laughed as we left.

We walked around the edge of the loch, the mountains reflected clearly this morning in the still water, and went into the trees at the far end, walking on the thick layer of fallen leaves. The path was steeper here, but we walked quickly, hand in hand. Alex would not tell me where we were going and laughed when I asked. His expression, free of the worry that had been his for months, was merry. I would go anywhere he wished just to hear him laugh like this, I thought. It had been far too long since my husband had been carefree.

At the entrance to the pass he turned away from it and followed a trail I would have missed on my own. It led sharply upward, following a stream that plummeted to the loch below. We climbed for what seemed like a very long time, Alex helping me up the largest boulders and holding back the branches where they overhung the track. When at last we reached the top of the hill, I gasped with delight. From here the view seemed never-ending. Kilgannon spread out before us, the loch flowing into the sea and the sea swirling around the near islands and then rushing to the far islands in the distance. To the north the hills and lochs of the western coat were shimmery in the pale autumn light, the hills lit with the last of the summer's bright heather and the lochs glowing silver between them. To the south we could see the coast fall away from our peninsula. The blue mountains wrapped around us to the east and north and southeast. It felt like we stood on the edge of the sky. Alex gestured to the glen below us. "This is why Gannon stayed here, lass," he said softly.

"It's so beautiful, Alex."

"Aye," he said, and we stood in silence for a few moments on the top of the ridge, watching the light play across the landscape. He kissed me as the cool autumn wind whirled around us and then urged me on once again, ignoring my questions, his eyes
merry
. He followed the path and I followed him, turning often to drink in the blues and grays spread out below me. A few moments later he paused.

"I suspect that ye soon will refuse to go on," he said, and I nodded. "All right, then, we'll go no farther." He grinned at me. I looked at him and then around us. We were in a small clearing, flat here, trees sheltering us from the worst of the wind. Behind him rose a large mound of rock and dirt. To my left was a lovely view of the mountains north of Loch Gannon and Skye beyond that, the ocean surrounding it a deep slate blue. Alex spun on his heel as my eyes returned to him and marched off around the mound; of rock with a glance over his shoulder. When I pursued him I found a small clearing on the other side. A ledge, to be precise. A large ledge, to be sure, but still a ledge, which overlooked the pass below, the path clearly visible as I peered down at it and then turned. The mound that had seemed to be rock and dirt proved to be a cave about twenty feet deep, the opening wide and tall, the floor carpeted with pine needles and showing signs of past fires.

"Alasdair's cave," he said, and looked triumphant as he swung the bundle from his back. "My great-great-grandfather, the first Alasdair, or Alexander, MacGannon, used to post men here to watch the pass so no one would approach Kilgannon unnoticed. Now, of course, it's easier to watch from the houses of Glengannon." He waved across the pass at the village that was not far but out of sight from here, then untied the bundle, pulling packets of food and a bottle of wine from the folds of three plaids. Grinning at me, he spread one plaid on the ledge before the cave and placed the food on it, then spread the other two in the cave on top of a pile of pine needles. He lit a fire while I watched. "I thought ye might want a bit of food, lass, after our walk. Come and join me."

"This is wonderful," I sighed. The wind rustled in the trees above us, but we were sheltered here from its chill. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He tried not to laugh. "I wanted it to be a surprise. After we eat I'm going to seduce ye." He leaned back on one arm and watched my reaction.

"Seduce me." I was trying to remember the date of my visit to the doctor in London. I decided it had been long enough.

"Aye," he said. "Do ye ken what today is?"

"No."

He lifted his cup in salute to the sky. "The ninetieth day!"

We laughed together, but I felt suddenly shy. It had been months since we'd made love thoroughly/We'd been affectionate and often inventive, but not more. He had obviously planned this well and wanted me to be enthusiastic. I wondered if I'd have to feign ardor. But as we talked and ate I relaxed, and a short while later it seemed the most natural thing in the world to be undressed outdoors with the trees as witnesses, to savor each other's body in a long, slow reawakening. It was natural to give him pleasure as I took mine and then to be wrapped in plaids on a bed of pine needles, Alex's arms around me as he murmured words of love. I kissed him one more time, and we closed our eyes for just a moment.

He woke me when the wind was rising and the shadows were long. The fire had burned itself out while we slept and he kicked the embers apart, then helped me dress. I helped him bundle the cups and empty bottle, and he kissed me softly as he wrapped my cloak around me. "I'll long remember this day, Mary Rose. Thank ye for coming with me without an explanation, and for being my dear lady."

I wrapped my arms around him, looking into the tops of the trees that guarded the pass. "I'll remember this day too, my love. Thank you for it." I kissed him once more before we left.

The return trip seemed much shorter. We stopped only once, at the spot where we'd paused to admire the view. Alex surprised me by jumping off the path and onto a ledge some four feet below, to stand in an empty eagle's
nest. Rummaging
through it and at last picking something up, he climbed back to me and opened his hand, showing me a small brown stone.

"What is it?" I asked as I picked it up and turned it over. It looked like an ordinary stone, speckled with amber swirls and worn smooth by water. I looked up at him, puzzled.

"It's an eagle stone, lass, a stone from an eagle's nest. It's believed to be a talisman, to protect against miscarriage."

"I thought you didn't believe in the old ways."

He smiled. "I am a Gael, Mary Rose. If it works I'll be most remorseful for my past skepticism. But if we've created a child this day, I would use everything I know to protect it." I kissed him, put the stone in my pocket, and took his hand. We arrived at Kilgannon just as the sun was setting and a cold evening wind rising and were greeted warmly by everyone. No one except the boys asked where we'd been, but Berta pulled broken pine needles from my hair and wordlessly handed them to me, her eyes twinkling.

The men returned from the cattle drive without incident, with stories and news as well. The east was full of talk of an uprising to come. Some rumors had James Stewart already in Scotland, walking the moors and raising his own troops, but

Alex snorted in derision at that. The stories he and Angus credited the most were the ones that told of French aid—men and gold—being shipped to the eastern clans for an uprising in the spring. They exchanged looks and said little in front of me, though I was certain that they talked about it at length when they were alone. But nothing came of the rumors, and we settled into the final preparations for winter.

The oath-taking was held as usual just before All
Hallows’ Eve
, and this year Malcolm came, after writing first to ask permission. His behavior was too perfect and I wondered what he wanted, but I said nothing to Alex, willing to let him enjoy his repaired family. Malcolm was the first to swear, and he lifted the pewter cup high for all to see as he knelt before his brother and swore his loyalty in loud, clear tones. Ian and Jamie followed, then Angus, and I relaxed and enjoyed the spectacle, glad to have discord behind us.

Gilbey was among those swearing fealty for the first time. "I have no one else, Lady Mary," he had said, peering at me through the lank hair that always fell into his eyes. "I am very happy here. I'd like this to be my home." I had kissed his cheek, bringing him scarlet, and thanked him.

"You will always have a home here, Gilbey," I said, knowing that Alex would echo my words, for he had said the same to me many times. Gilbey waved aside my thanks, but I could tell he was as moved as I. I remembered our conversation now as Gilbey turned from swearing his oath and found me with his eyes, his smile triumphant, his step stronger. What a difference a year had made in this man.

But not in Alex. He looked the same as the night I'd met him, as handsome and as sure of himself. Tonight he was aglow, from the whisky, no doubt, but I knew it was more. He was happy. As I was. Next to me Ellen smiled as wee Donald swore his oath and roared something in Gaelic that set the room echoing his words. Alex grinned and pushed him playfully, and wee Donald turned to find Ellen. I thought of Louisa's phrase for Robert's behavior: eternal courtship, she had called it. It was fitting for these two. A year ago wee Donald had begun courting my Ellen, and still there was no sign of any movement in their relationship. I shook my head. Alex and I were more impetuous than they, but it suited me. I could not imagine life any different.