Mine Is the Night_ A Novel - Liz Curtis Higgs [165]
“No more fear of the dragoons,” Elisabeth assured her. “Nor of Cumberland or the tolbooth or the gallows.”
Marjory could barely take it all in. “ ’Twas the Lord’s plan all along,” she breathed.
“Aye.” Elisabeth touched her hand. “Of course, you will be pardoned as well, which should relieve Gibson immensely.”
“Oh!” Marjory fished out his letter, ashamed at having forgotten. “I have something you must see, Bess.” She placed it in her daughter-in-law’s hands and watched her closely as she read.
“Gibson wrote this?” Elisabeth stared at the paper. “Marjory, ’tis wonderful!”
She smiled, proud as any wife. “His hand is quite accomplished.”
“Nae, I mean ’tis wonderful to know money is all that prevents you and Gibson from marrying.”
Marjory was taken aback. “How can that be good news?”
“Because of this.” Elisabeth reached for her discarded reticule and tugged open the drawstring. “Lord Buchanan filled this just before we left Bell Hill.”
Marjory watched a stream of bank notes spill onto their battered dining table. “The admiral gave these to you?”
“Nae, he gave them to you. His lordship clearly stipulated, ‘For your mother-in-law.’ Is it very much?”
Marjory began to count, her hands shaking. “One hundred pounds. Two hundred. Oh, Bess, this one is five hundred …” Speechless, she laid down each bank note, one after another, never losing track of the number, however unfathomable.
When she finished, Marjory looked up. “ ’Tis fifteen hundred pounds.”
Elisabeth gasped. “I had no idea—”
“But God did. Aye, he most certainly did.”
Marjory could not stem the tears that flowed from her eyes or the joy that poured from her heart. You have dealt kindly with me after all, Lord. You have, you have! I came home empty, and you filled me to overflowing.
Dazed at his boundless provision, Marjory straightened the Royal Bank notes into neat stacks, trying to make sense of it all. But there was nothing sensible about so vast a sum. And this sum in particular. “Bess, did I ever tell you how much I gave to the Jacobite cause?”
“I know ’twas a great deal.”
Marjory lightly touched each stack, her fingertips still wet with tears. “Fifteen hundred pounds.”
“Fifteen hundred …” Elisabeth stared at the table full of money. “Is it possible Lord Buchanan knew that?”
Marjory turned to her. “Let me ask you this. Did he count the notes, as I did just now?”
“Nae,” Elisabeth admitted. “ ’Twas dark in his study.”
“Then this gift is from the Lord.” Marjory was more certain than ever. “Though it passed through the admiral’s hands, it came from above.”
Marjory quietly put the bank notes in the only safe place she could think of: rolled inside a stocking at the bottom of her trunk. She need not worry about paying for her lodgings now. Or shopping at market. Or offering her tithe.
“I wonder …” Elisabeth quickly crossed the room to join her. “I wonder if Gibson might agree on the source of this blessing. Because if he did …, oh, Marjory, if he did see this as a gift from God …”
“We could marry,” Marjory realized, her mouth falling open.
Elisabeth laughed. “Aye, you could. At once.”
Marjory threw her arms round her clever daughter-in-law for a brief hug. “Oh, but, Bess, Gibson must come to that conclusion himself. I would never want him to suffer a moment’s doubt.”
“Can you live on such a sum?”
Marjory clapped her hands like a child at an entertainment. “At our age? Neil Gibson and I could live out the rest of our days in this fine little house, dine on meat and broth daily, and still have money left to share with grandchildren.” She glanced at Elisabeth. “Though I suppose they will not truly be my grandchildren—”
“Any babe I might ever bear shall be nestled in your arms,” Elisabeth assured her. “Though I have no promise of that, do I? Not unless the king is merciful.”
“Blessings come from the Lord, not men,” Marjory insisted. “Do not fret, my dear. His lordship will not rest until this matter is settled. Is he not heading north this very day?”
“He is.” She sighed. “And you are