The Wild Rose of Kilgannon (31 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Givens

Tags: #England, #Historical, #Scotland - Social Life and Customs - 18th Century, #Scotland - History - 1689-1745, #Scotland, #General, #Romance, #Historical Fiction, #England - Social Life and Customs - 18th Century, #Fiction, #Love Stories

BOOK: The Wild Rose of Kilgannon
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"You should have burst into tears and driven him away."

I smiled
wryly
, remembering. "I did burst into tears. He had not asked me to marry at first."
Harry
gaped at me, his face now florid. Randolph rose to stand before me.

"He asked you to be his mistress?" asked Randolph, his voice hoarse with indignation.

"I'm not sure, Randolph. I was so stunned that I started crying and then he told me we would discuss marriage. He might have intended that all along." The men exchanged glances and Louisa wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. "I did not know what to do. I did not tell you," I said, looking at each of them in turn, "any of you, because I was afraid of what you might do. Anything that you do now to DeBroun will jeopardize Alex. Can we not simply pretend it never happened? I have made no agreement with the man. After ... after the trial, I will tell DeBroun my true feelings, and when I do, believe me, he will not trouble me again."

Harry came to me then and patted my arm while Louisa and Randolph exchanged a look. "My dear," Harry said. "One cannot expect a woman to understand a man like Edgar DeBroun, but I understand him. What a turn of events. Actually, though, it plays into our plans. I still say you should have told me."

I nodded. "I was afraid you'd feel you had to avenge my
honour
. I did not consider his proposal for a moment, Harry, but I was afraid to tell him so because of Alex."

"Of course. Well, well, my dear. This is an interesting development."

"What will we do?" asked Louisa.

"What can we do?" Randolph answered, looking to Harry for agreement. But Harry just smiled, taking his leave soon after that, saying he would think of the best course of action overnight.

Alone with Louisa and Randolph, I listened with remorse as they chided me for not telling them. We discussed it into the night, Randolph growing more furious with DeBroun as the hours passed. They wanted me to leave London immediately. But where would I go? Betty was ill at Grafton, and
Mount garden
was too far away. I refused to leave until the trial was over. Then, I told them, I would surely be allowed to see Alex again. I would not leave London before that and asked them if they wished me to leave their house. Louisa embraced me then and Randolph told me that I would be going nowhere.

On Thursday morning, the city still abuzz with Steele's essay, the trial was the place to be seen and I was one of its chief attractions. People talked behind their hands as I passed, but I tried to ignore them all, though I heard laughter

behind me and felt my color rise. Damn them all, I thought. Ghouls, every one of them, happy to feed on my grief

The testimony that morning determined that Alex had never signed the two letters that had circulated the Highlands, one acknowledging Sophia as the Electorate, the other welcoming George as king. Alex had never sworn his loyalty, to George or to Sophia, argued his lawyer, and had never been asked to recognize the succession. "Nor," he said, "was Kilgannon among those Scottish nobles who accepted English money to assure that their clans would not rise in rebellion and then did so."

But the judges were not listening. They talked among themselves, except for Edgar DeBroun, who watched Alex constantly. The others listened only when Alex's lawyer told of Alex's trip to France in 1710 as an emissary of Scotland's goodwill toward Queen Anne and brazenly mentioned that Alex saved Duke John's life. I watched Alex stare ahead as all of this was discussed, knowing that he would never have suggested the topic himself, and wondering who had told the barrister. The Duchess beamed when curious glances came her way.

That afternoon the examination of Alex's treason was put aside for the discussion of the second charge. Several witnesses discussed the "murder" of Douglas Campbell in Brenmargon Pass. The absurdity of the charge made me angry every time I thought of Alex, outnumbered and thinking he was doomed, facing Robert's men and striking down the one who attacked him. Next to me Angus muttered to himself. Several Campbells, two of whom had testified earlier that they had seen Alex at Sherrifmuir, told the same story, that they had been pursuing Alex to bring him to trial in Edinburgh. In the pass, they said, he had faced them appearing to surrender and then striking Douglas Campbell, who had approached Alex to talk.

Alex's lawyer questioned the men and brought out the facts, that Alex was one man against the fifty pursuing him and that he had only lifted his sword when the Campbell was bearing down upon him with weapon raised, but the impression of Alex as dangerous lingered and I knew Alex's lawyer had not sufficiently swayed the judges. I only half-listened to Alex's lawyer's request to call only one witness on this charge and to Lord Webster's agreement.

The bailiff cleared his throat and announced that Lord Robert Campbell would take the stand. I met Alex's eyes across the room. He gave me a crooked smile and drew his hand across his throat.

 

R
OBERT STEPPED BOLDLY ONTO THE COURTROOM floor dressed in his military uniform, with a Campbell plaid thrown over his shoulder. He looked tall and powerful. And very handsome. The crowd stirred as he crossed the floor and nodded to Alex. Alex watched Robert approach with a stony expression, then he looked for my reaction and I met his eyes as hundreds watched.

Robert was sworn in as Lord Robert Duncan Campbell, Major of the Campbell Brigade, formerly in the command of the Duke of Argyll. Alex's lawyer questioned him about his military experience and stressed how very distinguished Robert's career had been. No taint of disloyalty had ever touched Robert, which made his answers to the questions all the more compelling. He'd been promoted, it seemed, after the
battle
at Sherrifmuir, to major. With a comment that the men who had testified earlier might not have seen all that had happened, he declared that Alex had had no choice but to defend himself and that to his regret, and in complete defiance of his orders, Douglas Campbell had been the aggressor.

"I would have done the same in Kilgannon's position, sir," Robert said in his clear voice. "Indeed, my own arm was raised to stop Douglas when Kilgannon did. I would advise the court to dismiss this charge, your
honour
. We were at war and cannot consider e
very
death to be murder. Kilgannon defended himself well and bravely and if anyone caused Douglas's death, it was himself."

The crowd erupted with discussion, and the judge, obviously as surprised as the rest of us at Robert's testimony, had to call for order several times. During

the fracas Robert turned to gaze at Alex. When their eyes met in a long look, Alex raised a hand in salute and Robert nodded, then turned away as the judge spoke.

"Lord Campbell, we will consider your remarks," Webster said and cleared his throat. "Now, as to the charge of high treason, have you ever seen Kilgannon in the presence of Jacobites?"

Robert nodded. "At the battle of Sherrifmuir, your
honour
."

"And where was he, Lord Campbell?"

"Across the field, fighting under General Gordon."

"Have you any doubt he was fighting for the Stewart cause?"

"He was with the Jacobites, your
honour
. I have no doubt that Kilgannon was fighting for the Stewarts."

"Fighting the forces of the King of England."

"I am sure he felt he was fighting for the freedom of
Scotland
," Robert replied.

"Thank you, Lord Campbell," Webster said. "That will be all."

Robert stepped down and as he passed, Alex leaned over the railing and spoke
quietly
to him. Robert nodded up at Alex and then both looked at me.

London buzzed again. I did not sleep that night.

 

Friday was interminable. I spent it in a state of alarm. Angus had been at my side throughout the proceedings, silent for the most part, but I'd found comfort in his presence. But this morning Angus had not arrived to come with us, nor was Duncan with our escort. Randolph and I had asked the men when they arrived where Angus and Duncan were, but had received no answer. My uneasiness grew with e
very
moment as we traveled to Westminster.

When we were seated, Randolph talked to Harry in a quiet voice, but when he straightened I could tell he had gotten no information. Randolph gave me a glance, shaking his head, and I battled another wave of fear. Harry, Angus, and Duncan were plotting something, and if they had not taken Randolph into their confidence it was
very
likely that they were doing something which neither of us would approve. Harry rubbed his arm and kept his silence.

After a long delay Alex was led to the dock and the judges filed in. Lord Webster announced without preamble that the charges against Alex of the murder of Douglas Campbell had been dismissed, but I barely heard him. Only four judges were seated on the dais.

Edgar DeBroun was missing.

The morning was spent in yet again bringing witnesses who had seen Alex at Sherrifmuir or in the company of Jacobites, but there was nothing new and the crowd and I grew restless. No mention of DeBroun's absence had been made, and I found myself looking at his empty chair as if it could explain where he was. Just before noon Lord Webster dismissed the witness and leaned forward to
silently
stare at Alex. Alex met his look with a wintry expression of his own. The moment went on for far too long and at last the judge straightened and spoke, his tone mild.

"Lord Kilgannon, are you aware that the Jacobite cause has several symbols affiliated with it?"

Alex nodded. "If ye mean the Stewart crest and badge, I ken them."

"There is a white cockade that Jacobites wear in their hats."

"I've seen it, your
honour
."

"It is a symbol of a flower, I'm told. A rose. And the rose, a white rose, can also thus be considered to be a symbol of the Jacobite cause." He paused. "Can you tell me why you call one of your ships the Mary Rose "

Alex raised his chin. "The Mary Rose is named after my wife, your
honour
."

"Your wife's name is Mary Rose?"

"My wife's name is Mary."

Lord Webster appeared bemused. "Yet you named your ship the Mary Rose. You added the name Rose to your wife's name?"

Alex looked across the room to me and smiled. "I did."

"After the Jacobite cause."

"No. After the flower," Alex said calmly. "There are wild roses in
Scotland
, sir, and white ones grow near our home."

"White roses. The symbol of the Jacobite cause."

"To some. In my home it was only a very beautiful flower. And a wild rose, your
honour
. I dinna plant it. God did."

"Do you not think it strange that you call your wife a name that also symbolizes the cause for which you later fought?"

"No." He paused and then smiled. "The rose has been used for centuries to describe beautiful women, and it has been used as a symbol by many causes. I do not call my wife or the ship Mary Rose to back the Jacobite cause. Nor to back the York or Lancaster causes either. Ye have heard of the War of the Roses?"

The crowd laughed and Alex grinned at the judge, then turned to me. I smiled in return, but the judge was not amused. Alex, I thought, tread lightly. Webster appeared to ponder.

"Why do you call your wife Mary Rose?" he asked.

Alex's cheeks flamed, but his tone was as mild as the judge's. "It is a beautiful flower, sir, and a splendid name for a beautiful woman. And it is no concern of this court."

Webster merely nodded and announced that the trial was in recess for the day. How the gossips loved it.

We had little to say at luncheon except to ask each other over and over where Angus and Duncan were. And Edgar DeBroun. My fears rose that evening when only Kenneth Ogilvie joined us at dinner. Harry and Angus had come every night, but tonight neither appeared nor did they send messages, although when we had parted at the courtroom
Harry
had said he would see us this evening. We did not know where Angus was lodging and had no way of reaching him. I hung the plaid from my window but it did nothing. And our notes to Harry went unanswered. At last Randolph went to Harry's lodgings himself, but
Harry
was not there, nor did his staff know where he was. It was a very long evening and my nightly letter to the boys was stilted.

Will had written that Betty's condition was the same and asked Louisa to have Dr. Sutter visit them. Louisa wrote to the doctor at once and wrote Will with the news that Dr. Sutter would go to Grafton as soon as possible. I wrote as well, telling him all that had happened and sending my love and prayers for Betty. I didn't tell him my fear, that we both could lose the people we loved.

On Saturday afternoon the Duchess arrived, her usual
bustle
replaced with tight-lipped anxiety, and my heart sank as I saw her mood. She dropped into a chair next to me. What now? I wondered.

"Where is Louisa? Oh, Mary, my dear," she said breathlessly. "All of London is talking. How can you be so calm?"

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