Marblestone Mansion, Book 4 Page 13

  “And my sister.”

  “True.” He opened the door to the cablegram office, slipped an American dollar to the operator and sent three grams, each with the same initial message – duchess aboard ship. In the one to Alistair, he added – keep Blair home, and on the one to Hannish, he added: do not trust Swinton.

  “Blair shall be so disappointed,” said Cathleen as they went back out the door.

  “It cannae be helped.” He closed the door to the cablegram office and walked her back down the hall. “The duchess is just cruel enough to tell her who she is and try to take Blair away from us.”

  “If only there were a way to forever prevent her. Will Blair’s American citizenship not be enough?”

  “I dinna know.” He held her elbow as they climbed the stairs and turned down the hall toward their first-class stateroom. “I have many friends in high places and I shall do what I can to find out. For now, we must take care to keep Blair out of sight.”

  Cathleen started to pull off her gloves as they entered their stateroom. “I am a duchess now. How shall I know of whom people speak if we keep callin’ her the duchess.”

  “Aye, but only you and I…and perhaps the Bayington’s will ever speak of her. All the others will only speak of you.”

  She let him help her off with her coat and then went into his arms. “I am so happy; I care not what they call me, so long as they call me your wife.” Cathleen raised her lips to his and once more got lost in his strong, loving arms.

  CHAPTER 8

  The Bayington mansion was not as large as Marblestone, but it was impressive just the same. It held a multitude of rooms and had plenty of servants to keep it clean and polished. The front windows offered a view of a tree-lined pond, a wide meadow where wildflowers bloomed in spring, and fields on the rolling English hills that were at rest until the spring planting.

  At almost the same moment, a cablegram was delivered to Alistair in Scotland, another came to Lord Bayington at his estate in London. Enjoying a warm fire in a small room where Lady Bayington preferred to write her many letters, he opened the cable, read it, handed it to his wife and waited for her to read it.

  The more he thought about what it said, the more upset he became. “I’ve a good mind to meet the ship myself,” he nearly shouted. “Coming back to get all the money she can from me, is she? The audacity of that woman never ceases to amaze me.”

  “Calm down, Edward,” said Lady Laura Bayington. “Let her find no money in the account she demanded we set up and see what she does.”

  “I know perfectly well what she will do. She will come straight here.”

  “Then we should be gone when she does. Scotland should be far enough away. We are his best friends and we should be there when Cameron brings his bride home anyway.”

  “Will we not be intruding? They have only just married.”

  “I doubt they will see it that way and certainly not once we mention the duchess’ letter.”

  Edward took her hand. “And Blair? We cannot ignore the child.”

  “I have no wish to ignore her. Now that we know she is your daughter, we might…”

  “We do not know for certain she is my daughter. The duchess can claim anything she wants and do not forget, Blair does not have the Bayington short toe.”

  “I know, but there is a possibility she is yours.”

  “Laura, we have talked of this before.”

  “That we have, but if she is your…our little girl, should we not be the ones to tuck her in at night?”

  Edward let go of her hand and put his arm around her instead. “Sweetheart, I long to have her with us too, but think what it means to Blair. She has a new home with Cameron, he adores her and to uproot her now…”

  “You are right, of course. I do hope Cathleen is as wonderful as Cameron claims.”

  “You must admit any mother is better than the duchess.”

  Laura kissed her husband on the cheek. “No truer words were ever spoken.”

  “There is something else I have not mentioned. Blair looks just like the Duchess.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “She is therefore easily recognizable” he continued to explain, “and should the duchess learn we have her, she…”

  “She will make all our lives miserable once again.”

  “Worse, she might find a way to take her away from us. I put nothing past that woman.”

  “Nor do I.” Lady Bayington left her husband’s arms, went to a table and poured herself half a glass of scotch. She set the decanter down and took two long swallows.

  “My, you are upset. You do not like scotch.”

  Laura half smiled. “Perhaps I should learn to. The duchess never seems to leave us be for more than a year at a time, and I feel it just as deeply as you.” She set the glass down and turned to face her husband. “It won’t be long before the duchess discovers Blair is gone. Mrs. Sinclair will no doubt tell her we have the child, and…”

  Edward’s eyes lit up. “Suppose we ask Mrs. Sinclair not to tell her?”

  “Do you suppose she would agree?”

  “Possibly. She truly hates the woman she calls Alexandra, and might enjoy a little revenge. Indeed, I think she just might like the idea.”

  *

  The telegram rider brought Cameron’s cablegram to Marblestone early in the morning. As was her morning habit, Leesil walked with her husband into the foyer to kiss him goodbye before he left for town

  “A cablegram came, Mr. Hannish,” Prescot announced, handing the envelope to him.

  Hannish opened it and stared at the words. At length, he gave it to his wife and kissed her lips. “Seems she is not in prison after all,” he muttered.

  Leesil closed her eyes. “Oh no.”

  He hugged her, tipped his hat to Prescot and walked out the door. News of the duchess was not his favorite way to start the day.

  With a concerned Prescot watching, Leesil sat on the marble window seat and read the cablegram again. “The duchess is on the same ship as Cameron and Cathleen.”

  Prescot bowed his head for a moment. “Do you suppose I should warn Alistair?”

  “Please do, Prescot. I shall feel much better if he knows. Poor Cathleen, ‘tis an unpleasant way to start a marriage. I do hope they do not have an altercation.”

  “If anyone can handle her, Cathleen can.”

  Leesil handed the cable to Prescot and let him read it. “Now our problem has become theirs again. If only the duchess would stay put and only plague one of us, but she somehow manages to spread her calamities evenly among us all.”

  “So it seems.”

  “Will you cable them back and say we have taken care of the Swinton problem.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Leesil decided to put it out of her mind for now and changed the subject. “Prescot, how is everything? I mean are our cousins settling in well and are the servants happy?”

  He glanced out the window, saw Hannish ride his horse down the lane and then sat on one of the other window seats. “Mrs. Elizabeth is having a harder time adjusting to having help than her daughters. She finds it quite embarrassing, but Margaret Ann understands and is not insulted. The boys and Mr. Moan need little tending, but we’ve a lot more laundry to do now. May I suggest we buy a second washing machine?”

  “Of course, that is the answer. Make a list and I shall do the ordering later. What else?”

  “The children start their studies with Beverly today. You’ll need help with Justin while you do the ordering.”

  “Who do you suggest?”

  “Margaret Ann does not have enough to do.”

  “Of course, why did I not think of that?”

  “May I also suggest it is time to make a playroom? We have little William, Justin will be crawling and Millie will soon have our baby. I believe our elder Blanka would like nothing better than to hold them more often, and rock them in the rocking chair.”

  “I like the rocking chair too. Put another on yo
ur list. Nay, make it two, one for Millie in your cottage. That should do for now. Hannish wants a house full of children and he is about to get his wish.”

  Prescot’s eyes widened. “You?”

  “Possibly, but do not say of it yet. I want to be certain.”

  “You have my word. Mind you do not do too much.”

  “I will rest when I can. Will you send Margaret Ann to me when she is finished with her breakfast? We have a wedding to plan, dinna forget.”

  “I have not forgotten. Dugan and I will soon have new neighbors in the empty cottage in the back. It will be good to have Keith with us again.”

  “Indeed it will, I have missed him. After all, someone must correct our English when we are wrong.” Leesil smiled and got up. “Dinna forget to call Alistair and warn him.”

  “I shall call him right away.” With that, Prescot walked to the telephone in the parlor and placed the call to Scotland. It would be a while before the operator connected it and rang him back, so Alistair went to the parlor desk to start a new list.

  Planning the wedding and placing orders was something to do now that Cathleen was gone. The ache in Leesil’s heart was still there, but becoming easier to endure. She supposed all big sisters felt that way when little sisters married and left home, but they normally didn’t live clear across an ocean.

  Leesil got up, went upstairs to wake her son and start a brand new day. There were meals to plan, food and cooking supplies to order now that Hannish wasn’t there during the day, and a household to run. At least Moan would be paying all the bills now.

  *

  When the duchess was shown to a seat against the wall in the vast, expensively decorated first-class dining room, she was already livid. A lady with an escort was always treated far more kindly than one without, but she had not yet managed to make friends or attract the attention of an unmarried gentleman. Therefore, she was not shown to one of the best tables.

  She hoped her incarceration had not robbed her of her youthful appearance. She tried her best to find her favorite powder and lip coloring in New York, but what they offered was a far cry from what she could buy in London. Nor was there any hope of correcting the problem aboard ship; each passenger was forced to bring their own and there was nothing to buy.

  As if she were not irritated enough, all eyes were drawn to the staircase as the Duke and Duchess of Glenartair were announced. She should have been the one on the duke’s arm, whoever he happened to be, not that little slip of girl he introduced as his wife in Colorado Springs. It was not as though she had not tried to make friends with Cameron once upon a time, but she disgusted him, and he made no attempt to hide it.

  The duchess kept her eyes glued on him, as Cameron guided his wife, the one with the sickening sweet smile, to a seat at the Captain’s table and then sat down beside her. The new duchess didn’t even wear a gown and was instead clothed in an ordinary, drab empire waist dress. Never had the duchess seen a sight so repulsive, and it was just her luck to be stuck on a ship for days to come with the two of them.

  Nothing ever seemed to go her way.

  Dinner was a mundane affair, but she needed to gain weight and forced herself to eat the slightly undercooked roast beef. Perhaps it was supposed to be steak, but what did it matter? It was nearly burned on the outside and half-raw in the middle. She like her meat well cooked. The vegetables were passable, but not very tasty until she loaded them with salt. Wine was the only thing remotely agreeable and after so much salt, she drank plenty of that.

  All the while, she could hear laughter at the tables around her, especially the captain’s table and not once did Cameron and his disgusting wife look her way. It was as though she was a fly on the wall, an insignificant fly at that. She should have been trying to attract the attention of a suitable gentleman, who might make the remaining days of the voyage more tolerable, but instead of her resentment abating, it grew more embellished by the moment. Her eyes narrowed, wine dripped on her new pink gown and the waiter could not keep her glass full enough to suit her.

  Whether she bumped into Cathleen as she was leaving or Cathleen hit her intentionally, would always be debatable. Either way, it was the last straw. The duchess slurred her words as she raised her voice and glared. “How dare you, you little gutter rat!” A woman behind her drew in a sharp breath and a man started to chastise her, but the duchess ignored them. Suddenly, someone grabbed her shoulders from behind and turned the duchess completely around.

  “Watch what you call my wife!” Cameron said in a loud voice.

  The duchess put her hands on her hips. “Well now, it if isn’t Cameron MacGreagor. Come to think of it, you deserve her – you are as ill-mannered as she is!”

  Enraged, he let go of the duchess before he hurt her and intentionally raised his voice another notch. “I would rather be ill-mannered, than a swindler the likes of you.”

  Suddenly, the duchess remembered where she was. The room had gone completely quiet and everyone was staring at her. He had humiliated and completely degraded her in the midst of her own kind, and she could not bear it. Real tears came to her eyes as she turned, raised the front of her skirt and hurried up the grand staircase.

  Cameron put his arm around Cathleen and watched until the duchess was out of sight. “Are you hurt?”

  “Nay.” She smiled at the woman next to her. “Mrs. Wilcox offered to show me the hair combs she bought in India. You go on to your cigars, I shall be fine.”

  “I dinna mind stayin’ with you.”

  She reached up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I know, but we have a long life together. Go on, have your fun and I shall have mine.” Everyone was still staring at Cathleen and her new friend as they climbed the stairs.

  *

  “Is it true?” Mrs. Wilcox asked as soon as they reached her stateroom. “Is she a swindler?”

  Perhaps she shouldn’t have, but Cathleen couldn’t resist. “Aye, the very worst kind. She claims to own a gold mine in Cripple Creek.”

  “But she does not?”

  “Hardly, and I should know. Our friend in Colorado is the wealthiest of all the gold mine owners. He knows positively everyone who owns the mines.”

  “Oh, I see? What does she do then?” Mrs. Wilcox asked, going to the adjoining bedroom to get her jewelry case.

  “She sells her gold mine to anyone with the price. Of course, they do not know they have been swindled until after she is long gone. My dear, you cannae imagine the heartache that lass leaves behind.”

  Mrs. Wilcox returned and handed Cathleen two ivory hairpins. “Has she not just come from America?”

  “Aye. Most likely, she was about to get caught and had to make her escape. Now she is off to the Kingdom to find more buyers. I doubt she will rest until she is imprisoned.”

  “She’ll be caught someday, surely.”

  “I truly hope so.” Cathleen admired the beautiful hairpins and then made her excuses. The last thing she wanted was to meet the duchess in the hallway, so she peeked out, decided the coast was clear and slipped down the hall to her room a few doors down. Once inside, she leaned against the closed door and sighed. “That should do it.”

  *

  The remaining days of their honeymoon voyage were spent dining, dancing, taking long walks up and down the decks when weather permitted, and enjoying card games with the other passengers. The duchess made no further appearances, but she was a hot topic of conversation. When someone brought her up however, Cathleen refused to discuss her and everyone understood why…save Cameron. That is, until he too heard the rumors. He found himself quite proud of his wife. After all, calling the Duchess of Glenartair a gutter rat was the worst kind of insult and the ex-duchess deserved to be set down, even if it was a lie.

  Therefore, the new Mr. and Mrs. Cameron MacGreagor managed to have a very pleasant voyage after all.

  *

  The last thing the duchess intended to do was hide in her room, but the morning after her run-in with Cathleen, she had t
he worst sort of headache. She vaguely remembered climbing into bed and feared her seasickness had returned. For the life of her, she couldn’t quite remember exactly what happened the night before, but she vividly remembered being called a swindler.

  She slowly sat up and held her head as the room began to spin. “Not that again,” she moaned. She lay back down and waited for the vertigo to subside. It seemed to take a very long time and once it did, she hesitated to sit up again. At length, she rose to a sitting position anyway, waited and when the vertigo didn’t start again, she swung one leg over the side of the bed. Gingerly, she moved her other leg and then stood up.

  The duchess was shocked to find she has slept in her clothes. They would need pressing again and the attendants were not the agreeable sort on this ship. They never were excellent on ships, but on this one, they were even worse. What newspapers they brought her to read were old and tattered, her breakfast was always cold and so was the coffee. She made up her mind not to sail on any of the White Star vessels ever again. Their luxury ships were certainly not as luxurious as advertised.

  She reached for the bell, pulled it and then waited. It was then a picture of what happened the night before became clearer in her mind. Had Cameron MacGreagor really called her a swindler in front of all the first class passengers? She brought a hand up to her forehead and tried hard to remember. Yes, she believed he had and now what was she to do?

  Everyone would be talking about her and now, attracting the attention of a suitable man was probably out of the question. Perhaps she would just stay in her room after all. If she went out, they would just whisper behind her back like schoolchildren. On the other hand, she had always supposed it better to charge straight into a controversy just to see if she could swing it her way. Yes, that’s what she would do.

  The maid who came to the door with a breakfast tray couldn’t have guessed the grilling she was in for. “I have heard nothing, I swear it, mum.”

  “Of course you have. I’ll not tell on you. Just tell me what they are saying.”

  The more the maid tried to deny it, the more the duchess insisted until at last, the maid simply made something up. “They say you are King Edward’s mistress and he has cast you out.”