Marblestone Mansion, Book 1 (Scandalous Duchess Series, #1) Page 10

  She didn’t notice the sarcasm in his voice either. “I am counting on it.”

  “The shopping was worth it too. Never have I seen such glorious shops, even in London. I simply could not refuse.” Her grin suddenly faded. “Precisely how poor are we?”

  “How much have you spent these last two weeks?”

  “Not too terribly much. You might have warned me.”

  “I tried before you left Scotland. I called from the hotel in town three times, and each time you were not at home, though it was very late in Scotland at the time.” He could tell she was searching for an excuse, so he decided to drop it. “Let the past be the past.”

  “I agree. Let us plan our future instead, though it would be helpful if you would tell me just how much money we have.”

  “Not in front of the servant,” he whispered.

  She had not realized anyone else was there. “You are excused.”

  Ronan bowed and quickly left the room.

  “How much?” Olivia asked again.

  “A little over twenty thousand pounds.”

  “Plus the house?”

  “Aye, plus the house,” he answered. She seemed a little upset and he was not surprised.

  “Well, we can manage for a time, at least,” she said.

  “We will have to.”

  “Perhaps we might invest.”

  “Perhaps so. I have been offered part ownership in a gold mine.”

  Her eyes instantly lit up. “Gold? How wonderful.”

  *

  Ronan looked positively flushed when he rushed into the kitchen. “He has agreed to go back to Scotland!”

  “No,” said McKenna.

  “What?” Alistair asked, his head jutting forward.

  “He intends to sell Marblestone and go with her.” Half the servants put their heads in their hands and the other half closed their eyes.

  Finally, Sarah muttered, “What is to become of us?”

  None of the servants knew what to say and even Sassy was quiet. For a long moment, they tried to imagine what might lay ahead for each of them. Abruptly, the silence was interrupted when Olivia’s bell rang. “She has gone up to bed already?” McKenna asked.

  “She is exhausted,” Jessie guessed. She went to the kitchen, reached for a tray and began to make the tea Olivia always demanded before bed.

  McKenna frowned. “Keith, bring up a bottle from the wine cellar, make it two. If she thinks he will go home with her, she might deny him and perhaps he will drink enough to sleep through this night.”

  “He’ll not want to bed her if he suspects she has taken a lover,” said Blanka. “Does he suspect it, Keith?”

  “I would, but I cannot say for certain.” Keith lowered his voice. “At first, she said they should visit each other once a year. If they have children, she would keep them in Scotland.”

  “He’ll not put up with that,” said McKenna.

  “He cannot make her stay,” Prescot said.

  McKenna stood up and put her hands on her hips. “And she cannae make him go. If I know my brother, she will regret the day she demanded such a thing.”

  “I hope so,” Charlotte muttered. Everyone was looking at her, but she didn’t care.

  Sassy listened, but she still kept quiet. Her heart was breaking for the man she admired most in the world, and a thousand ways to get even with Olivia were running through her mind. Yet, she could not think of a one that Mr. Hannish would approve of.

  When the telephone rang, everyone jumped. “Have mercy,” Halen gasped, “I will never get used to that.”

  Alistair went to the phone, picked up the receiver and put his mouth close to the transmitter. “Marblestone Mansion, Alistair here...Aye, one moment please.” He laid the earpiece on top of the box. “‘Tis for Mr. Hannish,” he muttered, rushing out of the kitchen.

  Sassy sat staring at the telephone and McKenna noticed. “Tempted, are you?”

  Sassy smiled. “Indeed I am. I can resist anything but temptation.”

  A few minutes later, Alistair came back and put the earpiece in its cradle. “Mr. Hannish is in the study.”

  “How does he look?” McKenna asked.

  Alistair sorrowfully shook his head. “Like the troubled lad he is.” He glanced at all their distraught faces. “We best get back to work. ‘Twill do no good if we look as miserable as he feels.”

  *

  Sassy didn’t think she was afraid of much, even Olivia MacGreagor. She managed to avoid the woman on a ship that seemed only half the size of the mansion, and she could do it here too. Nevertheless, when Sarah sent her up to put clean towels in the second-floor water closets, Sassy walked around the corner and came face to face with Olivia MacGreagor.

  Olivia’s eyes were the same kind of hateful, spiteful eyes Sassy had seen far too often before, and it took a moment to remember she was not in the orphanage. “Are you lost?”

  “Are you lost, what?” Olivia asked.

  Sassy shifted her eyes from side to side. “Are you lost...just now?”

  Olivia huffed and turned around. “I rang for tea but no one has come. Find Sarah and tell her to hurry up. I die of thirst.”

  “Aye, Mrs. MacGreagor.”

  Olivia stopped in her tracks and slowly turned back around. “What did you call me?”

  Again, Sassy shifted her eyes from side to side. “Mrs. MacGreagor?”

  “I am a duchess and you will address me as, ‘My Lady.’”

  Sassy didn’t like her tone of voice. In fact, Sassy didn’t like her and it didn’t take long for her indignation to surface. “I will not.”

  “What?”

  “We American’s dinna hold with titles.”

  “You filthy gutter rat!” Olivia grabbed the side of Sassy’s hair and began to hit her with the heavy, wooden brush she held in her hand.

  Sassy heard herself cry out. She dropped the towels, raised her arms to protect herself and slumped down, but Olivia still had a hand full of hair and the beating continued.

  Behind Olivia, Sarah dropped the tea tray, grabbed the duchess around the waist and pulled her away. “Mr. Hannish, come quick!” she screamed loud enough for the whole mansion to hear.

  Hannish heard the crash, rushed out of his study and ran across the parlor. He took the stairs two at a time, turned down the hall and saw Sassy on the floor holding her bleeding head. Horrified, he quickly knelt down beside her, put his hand on her back, and then looked at the wooden brush Olivia still held firmly in her hand. “What have you done?”

  “She deserved that and more.” Olivia wrenched free of Sarah’s grasp and disappeared back inside her bedchamber. “I suppose I shall have to ring for more tea.” She reached for the cord, jerked it and tossed her brush on the bed.

  By the time Hannish carefully helped Sassy get up off the floor, a crowd had gathered in the hallway. “Bring her to my room,” McKenna said.

  “Can you walk?” Hannish waited for Sassy’s nod, put an arm around her just in case and shouted orders as he walked her down the hall. “Keith, clean up the glass. Alistair, do not let my wife out of her room, I shall see to her directly. Prescot, call the doctor and tell him to hurry.”

  “No doctor, please Mr. Hannish, ‘tis just a bruise or two,” Sassy begged.

  Hannish eased her through McKenna’s bedroom door, helped her sit on the bed and then moved out of the way.

  “Charlotte, hand me a wet cloth,” McKenna said, sitting down on the bed beside Sassy. “Take your hand away and let me have look.” Already, the redness on Sassy’s temple was turning blue and the blood was coming from a cut just above the red mark.

  It was taking Charlotte longer than necessary to dip a washcloth in the water basin and wring it out. “Charlotte?” Finally, Charlotte handed the wet cloth to her and McKenna held it against Sassy’s head, hoping to make the bleeding stop. Then she smiled. “I fear you might have a black eye soon.”

  Sassy returned her smile, letting her deep dimples show. “I’ve not had one o
f those since James walloped me a good one for callin’ him a put-her.”

  McKenna removed the cloth and stood back up. “You best lie down, dear, so I can wash the blood off your face and out of your hair.” She waited for Sassy to obey, sat down next to her, noticed the bleeding had not stopped and pressed the cloth against the cut again.

  “Who saw what happened?” Hannish asked as he grabbed a spare blanket, walked to the other side of the bed, unfolded it and spread it over Sassy.

  “I did,” Sarah said, pushing her way through the others standing just inside the doorway. “Sassy refused to call her ‘My Lady’ and the duchess hit her with her brush. She had a handful of Sassy’s hair too when I pulled the duchess off.”

  Hannish was not as concerned about her hair as he was about the way Sassy was holding her arm. “Is it broken?”

  “Nay, just a little sore, is all,” Sassy answered.

  He gently took her hand, examined the red defensive marks on the underside of Sassy’s arms, and then felt the bones for lumps. “Is this the first time Olivia has done such a thing?” he asked the others.

  “Nay, she threw hot tea on me on the ship,” Millie answered. “Another time she...”

  “Millie,” McKenna interrupted, “My brother need not hear all the details. ‘Tis enough for him to know Olivia cannae control her anger.”

  “Good heavens, why did no one tell me?” Hannish searching their faces, but none of them answered. He ran his fingers through his thick, wavy hair and tried to calm his rage before he did something he would regret. “How could I have been so mistaken about her?”

  Donnel tried to comfort him. “You could not have known. None of us did afore you married her, else we woulda said.”

  The idea that his wife had hurt Donnel or Blanka made him draw in a deep breath. “She’ll not hurt anyone again, of that I promise.”

  McKenna got up and went to rinse out the cloth in the basin. “Out everyone, let Sassy rest.”

  Sarah watched them leave and stayed anyway. “I will get some aspirin and a cup of tea.”

  “Good idea, Sarah, she is sure to have a headache soon.” When McKenna glanced back, Sassy was sitting up, taking all the pins out of her disarrayed hair and letting it hang loose.

  *

  Hannish was furious. As soon as they were all out of McKenna’s room he said, “I will see all the Scots in the parlor... Now!” His long legs quickly carried him away and the others practically had to run to keep up.

  Jessie paused just long enough to tug on Prescot’s jacket. “Best relieve Alistair. Mind you, keep her in; she often gets worse from here.”

  Prescot’s eyes widened. “Worse?” He nodded his understanding, went around the corner and headed for Olivia’s room.

  *

  Impatiently, Hannish waited until all the Scots arrived, including Alistair. Then he paced for a moment more before he said, “Out with it. I will hear every detail.”

  Several of them exchanged glances, but the time for honesty had come and it was Jessie who finally spoke up, “She has not paid our wages.”

  He stopped pacing and stared at her. “For how long?”

  “Two years.” Jessie answered.

  “Two...years? But I sent the money to my banker in Scotland and he... Why did you not just leave?”

  “Some did, but the duchess said she would call us thieves if the rest left. Who was the constable to believe, us or her?”

  Alistair spoke next. “Mr. Hannish, you asked if the duchess sold the unused passages on the ship, and I told you true, but I dinna tell you all of it. She sold the ones to our compartments and bought cheaper ones. We were four to a room on the bottom level.”

  Hannish shook his head and again ran his fingers through his hair. “Tell me, did George Graham manage to make the repairs?”

  “Mostly,” Dugan answered.

  “Good.” Before he could get the next question formed in his mind, Donnel burst into tears. He quickly went to her, knelt down in front of her chair and put his hand on her shoulder. “What is it, Donnel?”

  “She killed two dogs, pups really, she kicked them to death. You won’t let her kill this one, will you?” Donnel lifted the puppy out of her lap.

  He gently rubbed the pup behind the ears and tried to smile. “Nay, she will not hurt anything or anyone else. I swear it.”

  “What will you do?” Alistair asked.

  “First, I will pay your wages. I hope you kept track of what you are owed.” He got up, paced twice more across the floor and stopped. “Olivia believes I am sending her back to Scotland to wait while I sell the house and settle my affairs here. If she suspects it is a trick, she might not get on the ship.” He abruptly began to pace again.

  Hannish was so enraged, he could not think clearly and his mind kept shifting to the image of Sassy bleeding and crouched on the floor. At length, he forced himself to concentrate, stopped pacing and looked at Alistair. “I cannae send her back alone and I dare not send a maid with her, not if she is this violent.”

  “I’d not go in any case,” Millie said. “Your Grace, she can bathe herself and do her own hair when she wants to. She does not truly need a maid and I doubt anyone will see her all in shambles. The duchess will make certain of that.”

  “Then we only need a lad to take her back,” Hannish mumbled.

  “Dugan hesitated to say it, but everyone was thinking the same. “Let Mr. Graham take her back.”

  “I’ve something better in mind for Mr. Graham,” said Hannish. “Nay, I need a lad who will safely see her aboard ship and not let her come back. Who is willing?”

  “I will go, Your Grace,” said Alistair. “She’ll not hurt me if I have your permission to stop her.”

  “Of course you have my permission. Very well then, take Dugan with you and after she boards the ship, find something to occupy yourselves for another day or two. I’ve something coming from Scotland I wish the two of you to personally pick up and bring back. I shall explain it later.”

  “Very good, Sir.” Alistair noticed Dugan did not look pleased, but at least the train ride back without the duchess would be a pleasant one.

  “We will put her on the Denver train tomorrow...if we live through this night.” With that, Hannish went into his study and closed the door. That late at night, he was certain to find his banker hard at work in his Scotland office and placed the call. However, it would be a while before the line was connected.

  The moment Hannish disappeared, the Scots in the parlor each took a forgotten breath. “Pray God he truly means to send her back,” Blanka whispered. “He has a whole night to change his mind.”

  “And that she stays there once he does,” Dugan mumbled. One by one, each of them went back to their duties while Alistair and Dugan went to pack their travel bags.

  *

  Charlotte waited until all the Scots were gone before she left her hiding place behind the parlor door. Hannish was sending his wife away and she could not have been happier. Now there was a chance for her to secure his affections, and she could not hide her smile as she hurried back to the kitchen.

  *

  While he waited for his telephone call to be connected, Hannish went back upstairs to check on Sassy. For just a moment, McKenna let him peek in her room and he was surprised by what he saw. Sassy’s hair was down, her eyes were closed and she no longer looked like a child—she looked like the striking grown woman he knew her to be. “Is she sleeping?” he asked.

  McKenna stepped out into the hallway and quietly closed the door. “Nay, she is just resting. She does not cry, but then, I suppose she has learned not to.” McKenna went into her brother’s arms. “Forgive me for not telling you about Olivia, but you had to see it for yourself.”

  “Aye,” he whispered, “but of all the people she could have hurt, why did it have to be Sassy? Are you certain I should not send for the doctor?”

  McKenna released him and took a step back. “Nay, she does not need a doctor, but you do not look so
well. I sent for two bottles from your wine cellar, one for you and one for Olivia. Let Olivia sleep and in the morning, I will help her dress.”

  “And let her hurt you? I will not allow that.” He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. “She admitted paying Graham’s passage on the ship. What sort of fool does she think I am?”

  “He has a way of keeping her calm.”

  “I am happy to hear someone does.” Hannish took another deep breath and tried to steady his nerves. “I best go see about her.” He lightly touched McKenna’s hand. “Send for me if Sassy needs anything.”

  “I promise.”

  Reluctantly, Hannish walked down the hall and turned the corner. Prescot was standing with his arms folded in front of Olivia’s closed door, determined not to let her out. As soon as he saw Hannish, he stepped aside. “She keeps ringing the bell for tea, Sir.”

  *

  Hannish nodded and then opened the door without knocking. He intentionally left the door open, walked to the wall and ripped the bell cord off.

  “What is the meaning of that?” Olivia shouted.

  “I wish you to sleep and let the servants sleep as well. If you need anything, which I doubt, I will fetch it for you.”

  “You? A duke doing the duties of a servant? What an outrage that will be when they hear about it in London.”

  Hannish walked to the bed and turned it down, just as he had seen the valets do a thousand times. “Will they hear of this in London, Olivia? They will never know unless you tell them.”

  “Your sister will tell. She is probably already writing to that simpleton your brother married.” Olivia tightly folded her arms.

  “My sister is attending the girl you hurt.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes and plopped down in a chair. “I hardly touched her and she deserved it. I require Millie to help me dress for bed, and where is my tea?”

  “I suggest you dress yourself for bed.” Just then, Alistair appeared at the door holding a tray with a bottle of wine and one glass. “Thank you, Alistair,” he said, taking the tray from him. “Wait for me in the study.”

  “Aye, Your Grace.”

  Hannish set the tray on the table, pulled the cork out of the bottle, filled the glass and offered it to Olivia.”