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It was ready.
And so was she.
It was to be a double wedding. Jeanie and Cicilia insisted on it, and Alexander and Nathair were hardly going to argue. In less than a week, once the trial of the traitor Cunningham was over, Cicilia would be Alexander’s wife.
I still cannae fully understand how we got here, but I’ve never been so happy. Well, except for one thi
ng.
Alexander and Nathair hadn’t talked much about everything that had happened, something for which Alexander was grateful. His friend knew that Alexander needed his own time to process things, and he hadn’t even begun to tackle the revelation about his parents’ death.
It was the one dark spot on an otherwise almost unbearably joyful time, and Alexander knew he had to confront it sooner or later. Tomorrow, it would come out in his judgment when Thomaes tried to plead for his pathetic life—but Alexander owed his sister more than that.
It was Cicilia, his beautiful, precious Cicilia, who suggested that Alexander take Catherine for a meal on the castle grounds like they’d eaten when they were small. So now he sat by the little burn on a blanket, his sister eating her bread and cheese, and tried to find the words that may shatter her.
“Catherine,” he said hesitantly as he poured them both more wine. “I brought ye out here because I’ve got somethin’ to say.”
“Aye,” his sister said, sounding a little amused. “I figured that much out meself, Sandy. I hope ye were nae as reticent when ye were proposin’ to Cicilia.”
Her teasing just made it harder, but he smiled. Then, uncharacteristically, he took her hand. Catherine looked down at their joined hands in surprise.
“What is it, brother?” she asked in a much softer voice. “What do ye need to tell me?”
And so, he told her everything that Thomaes had admitted, and all of the details Cicilia had added from his earlier confession. He told her how Thomaes had used Alice’s birth as a way to be rid of their parents for good, and how the accident had been no accident at all.
When the story was over, Catherine was in floods of tears, but she embraced Alexander tightly. He broke down too, and the siblings hugged and cried.
Eventually, Catherine wiped her eyes and said, “Well, at least now we ken. At least now we can say farewell properly, eh?”
Alexander nodded, his own eyes red and itching. “Aye. Aye. At least now, they’ll finally get justice.”
Catherine kissed his cheek. “Our parents would be so proud o’ ye, Alexander MacKinnon,” she told him. “I’m proud o’ ye.”
Alexander’s heart stuttered in his chest, and his tears started anew, breaking him down and healing as they went.
The trial was a public affair. In fact, much of the Castle's business was now public. Alexander had told Cicilia that from now on, he intended to be more open, more welcoming, and clear. He would do it so rumors would never threaten his seat, his family, or his clan ever again.
It dragged on, with more and more testimony coming out of the woodwork as more and more clansmen came forward with stories of bribery and manipulation. Through it all, Thomaes sat there, his eyes fixed on Cicilia in the front row, glittering with hatred and rage.
He blames me for his capture. As if he dinnae do all o’ this to himself.
She had expected to feel torn, yet she felt more pity taking an old cow to the slaughter than she did for the evil man being condemned for his crimes. He had torn a family apart and tried to tear apart another. No matter what his sentence, Cicilia knew that seeing her sitting proudly with a smile and the Laird’s love would be a worse punishment.
The trial had to be adjourned for a whole day after the news of Thomaes’s involvement with the death of the previous Laird and his wife came to light. A mob formed outside of the trial room, this time against Thomaes rather than for him, baying for his blood.
An’ I’d love to have Alexander give it to him. But if I’m to help him rule here, that is nae how I’ll start our new legacy.
On the last day of the trial, Thomaes was allowed to speak. When he did, it was a spite-filled rant, declaring the whole clan a mockery.
“Aye, I did it. Everythin’ ye’ve accused me o’, an’ more,” Thomaes hissed. “I did it all, and I’d do it again. I’ve got plans in place ye will nae find for years. Decades. I’ve done things so vile they’ll be hauntin’ yer grandchildren.” He laughed coldly. “So good luck to ye, oh great Laird o’ Gallagher. Yer people are feckless, an’ ye’re a fool. When the whole clan collapses in flames, ye’ll have only yerself to blame.”
Cicilia felt her blood run cold at the threat, but Alexander just smiled faintly.
“Thank ye for yer testimony, Mr. Cunningham,” he said coolly. Then he stood and turned to the large gathered crowd. “Now, I ken I’ve nae been the Laird me faither was before me. I’ve done me best, but I was a grievin’ lad manipulated by a monster, an’ I let that turn me cold. I’ve looked after yer money without considerin’ yer person.”
Behind Cicilia, some of the villagers began to whisper to each other, but nobody spoke up.
“But nae longer,” Alexander continued. “Goin’ ahead, Clan Gallagher shall be a clan o’ equality. Every man’s opinion is worth as much as the next, an’ as yer Laird, it’s me duty to facilitate them, nae override them. As me first act o’ business in this matter, I turn the sentencin’ o’ Thomaes Cunningham over to yer capable hands.”
