Marblestone Mansion, Book 4 Page 16

  “There it is,” Cathleen said, stopping in front of a tall headstone. “I do not read Gaelic, but the name is clear enough. ‘Tis the grave of Justin MacGreagor, the laird Leesil’s son is named after. I must ask Cameron what the words say.”

  “You love the old stories?”

  “Of course I do. I have no history of my own and the MacGreagor history is so fascinating.”

  “Far more fascinating than mine,” Laura said, touching Cathleen’s arm. “We best go in before it starts to rain.”

  “Very well.” She followed Laura down the slight incline into the tall green grass of the glen. “There is one thing I dinna understand. How is it that no one knows of Edward’s marriage to the duchess? She could not have blackmailed you, had it been common knowledge.”

  “Oh, there are those who knew; his butler Pifer for instance. Edward and ‘Alice’ stayed in Paris nearly the whole month. They hardly had returned by the time Edward learned the truth. He caught her going through his papers and she confessed she was trying to learn just how wealthy they were.”

  “How awful for him. So Edward boarded you with his aunt and then what happened?”

  “He came to see me often, took me to one or two balls and when his divorce was secured, he married me.”

  “A perfect romance.”

  “For us both…until the duchess found out about it. I was not divorced and she knew it. Fortunately for me, Edward knew the truth when I married him, but to avoid a scandal, he paid her blackmail demands until she went to America. After that, we were free of her, or so we thought. Hannish, as you know, sent her right back to Scotland.”

  “And she knew all along you were a widow instead. How very devious she is.” Cathleen paused beside the stone planter in the center of the drive, to examine a leaf on one of the bushes, and then proceeded toward the door. “Laura, if you have only been married a few years, how is it you have four sons?”

  “Alice was not his first wife. His first wife died several years earlier. Her sons, which are now mine and whom I love dearly, are half grown already.”

  As soon as they approached, Alistair opened the door and then helped them off with their coats. Cathleen said, “Will you have tea served to the sitting room?”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Is this Your Grace allowed to hug the butler once more?”

  “Yes, Your Grace, as often as you like.” He smiled and with a coat over each, opened his arms and hugged her. “Good heavens, there is meat on your bones finally.”

  Cathleen blushed and continued through the hallway to the stairs. “They say I was quite withered away when I arrived in Colorado,” she told Laura. “I dinna think I was, but the cooks took it upon themselves to fatten me right up. I believe huggin’ Alistair is how they measure my weight.”

  “Cameron said he wasn’t certain you would survive the voyage. He was horrified by what he found in the orphanage,” Laura said as they climbed the stairs.

  “James says the place is much improved now, but I’ll not believe it until I see it.”

  Laura waited until they were alone in the sitting room before she said, “Then we shall see your orphanage together, you and I, when we set out to find my new daughter.”

  “Aye, we shall.”

  *

  “I am sorry, Your Grace, there is nothing we can do,” said Sarah, after she entered the sitting room. She had a black skirt in her hand and held it out. “As hard as the laundry maid tries, the smell of mold cannot be gotten rid of. I suspect something was put in your trunk damp enough to spoil them all.”

  Cathleen took a whiff of the skirt and turned her head away. “Get rid of them and the trunk as well, Sarah. I hate the smell of mold.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  She chose a chair across from the one Laura sat in, made herself comfortable and put her feet up on the ottoman. “Sarah, you need not call me that when we are at home.”

  “I know, but I rather like calling you that. Some Americans admire British titles.”

  “Then I shall not complain,” Cathleen said. “Tell me, are the Scots accepting you?”

  “They will in time,” Sarah answered. “Most knew Alistair from before and he’ll have their heads if I am not treated well. He threatened to send them away if he hears a complaint from me. Therefore, I must be very careful what I tell him.”

  “But you suspect you are resented just the same?” Laura asked.

  Sarah giggled. “A little, but I have an advantage. They hardly can understand a word I say.”

  Both Cathleen and Laura laughed.

  “I do wish I had learned Gaelic with you and Leesil,” said Sarah. “I hardly can understand a word they say either.” Sarah gave her very best flamboyant curtsy and started for the door. “Took me nigh on to a week to learn how to do that.” She giggled again, and then closed the door behind her.

  “I am happy to know you have someone on your side here,” said Laura. “After the duchess, Flora was a treat and the servants adored her. Some may resent you just for taking her place. You must promise to tell Cameron if ever you are slighted.”

  “I promise.” Cathleen thoughtfully rubbed the side of her face. “What shall I do for new clothes? Cameron said we have no seamstress here.”

  “We shall go shopping in Edinburgh. I have not been shopping for so long, I am quite certain I have forgotten how.”

  “You have no new clothes?”

  “I have plenty, but I just call, tell the London clothier what I want and what color, and in a fortnight they bring me two to choose from. They’ll do the same for you once they have your measurements.”

  “When can we go? I long to see more of the countryside.”

  “Will tomorrow be too soon?”

  “Tomorrow is per…” A knock on the door interrupted her. “Come in.”

  Alistair quickly bowed, “A call for you, Lady Bayington.”

  “For me?”

  “‘Tis Pifer.”

  “Oh dear, I hope nothing has happened to the boys.”

  “He assures me everyone is quite well,” said Alistair. “Shall you take the call in here?”

  “Of course, thank you Alistair.”

  Laura answered the phone and a moment later, thanked the caller and hung up. “The duchess has arrived at our home, just as we expected her to. Pifer says she is quite furious and looks haggard.”

  Cathleen excitedly raised her eyebrows. “Can we go see? How I enjoy her when she is miserable. I swear, she did not move a muscle for nearly an hour once McKenna let her hear Mr. Sinclair was dead.”

  “You must tell me all about that.”

  “It was the most splendid time I have ever had. She had just come to Colorado Springs with her new husband, a Mr. Jedediah Tanner. We...”

  *

  The tea party with Blair took up most of the afternoon. She was like her mother, in that everything had to be just so before they could begin. Sarah brought a small teapot filled with cold tea and small cookies baked especially for the occasion. Blair’s five guests included Cathleen, Laura, Sarah, and Blair’s porcelain doll, which she named Addie. They talked, sipped tea, ate cookies and thoroughly enjoyed the imagination of the loveable and inventive Blair MacGreagor.

  For Cathleen, it was especially enjoyable, having dreamed of it for weeks, but then something else delighted her. “Blair, do you love the name Addie?”

  “Uh huh,” Blair emphatically answered. The question already forgotten, she daintily took another sip of tea and asked Sarah for more.

  “Would you like to be called Addie?” Cathleen asked.

  “Uh huh,” Blair answered, paying more attention to Sarah than to Cathleen.

  “Very well, that is what we shall call you. Miss Addie MacGreagor.” Cathleen carefully watched her, heard no complains and shared a knowing look with Laura.

  *

  “I have heard from James. He writes to say he has taken a room in a boarding house.” Cameron said. Instead of sitting at the table
on the platform, he preferred having his meals at a long table that ran down the center of the dining room. “I know the place. He says he likes it there, but I suspect he likes being close to the pubs even more.”

  “The pubs, he is but a laddie,” Cathleen said. She eyed the wedges of squash on the tray the footman offered to her and smelled the delicious aroma. “I love squash, how wonderful,” she muttered to him.

  “‘Tis hot, Your Grace, Shall I?” the footman whispered.

  “Please.” She turned her attention back to what Cameron was saying, while the footman used a large spoon to move the wedge from the tray to her plate. Then she remembered to nod her appreciation which brought a slight smile from him.

  “Aye, well ‘tis not what he thinks,” Cameron said, watching to see his wife’s reaction. “I imagine James has an eye for the ladies.”

  Cathleen rolled her eyes. “At what, thirteen?”

  “Sounds normal to me,” said Edward.

  “And me,” Cameron agreed.

  All through dinner, Cameron kept an eye on the footmen, knowing full well everything his wife said and did would be repeated. So far, she seemed to have charmed at least one of them and since she remarked favorably on each dish served, she was pleasing the cooks as well.

  “Sweetheart,” he said as they were finishing their fruit tart dessert. “Is there any food you dinna like?”

  “Well, if I must say, I am not so fond of mutton.” She realized how that sounded to a Scot who loved mutton above all else, so she explained, “We were given mutton stew often in the orphanage. ‘Twas more water than stew and meat, but it sometimes made us violently ill. The wee ones died occasionally, and I know ‘twas the mutton for we all fell ill at the same time. I fear ‘twas not cooked properly. ‘Tis silly, I know, but I have a hard time…I mean, it reminds me…oh dear, I am saying this very poorly. I might like it…here.”

  Cameron saw the distress in her expression and reached for her hand. “You need not eat anything that reminds you of that despicable place.” He looked directly at the footmen. “Tell the cook my wife wishes not to be served mutton and tell them why. I shall be upset if they forget. They are to make her something different when they serve it to me.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” both of them answered at the same time.

  “Ladies, shall we go to the parlor and let our meal settle?” Cameron asked standing up. He waited for the Bayingtons to leave and then took Cathleen in his arms. “Is that a tear I see in your eyes?”

  “Do forgive me, I do not mean to cry.”

  “Tell me, what is it?”

  She bit her lip for a moment. “‘Tis just that when little Daniel died, ‘twas I who fed him the mutton. We had nothing else and…”

  He tightened his arms around her. “Cathleen, you were but a child yourself. You could not have done differently.”

  “I tell myself that and I know ‘tis true, but…”

  “You are exhausted. Come, a little scotch and some good conversation will take your mind off it.” He took her hand and walked her out of the dining room. “We shall make an early evening of it. Sleep will take all your cares away.”

  Behind them, the footmen exchanged glances and began to clear away the dessert dishes. “I find her pleasing,” said one.

  “‘Tis certain he does,” said the other.

  “Aye, he has a soft heart. Have we not always said that?” He picked up Lady Bayington’s dish and set it on his tray. “Did you see how he watched us? Somethin’ worries him.”

  The other footman paused to think about that. “He is afraid we will not accept her, but I think we will. What makes him happy will make all of us happy.”

  “I pray she does not turn out to be like Hannish’s’ first wife. She was pleasant in the beginning too.”

  *

  Cathleen waited until the brandy was served to all four of them and the footman left the room before she said, “Cameron, I think we should call Blair ‘Addie’.”

  “Addie? Is that not what she calls her doll?”

  “Aye and when I asked, she would like that name for herself also.”

  “Her adoption papers say Blair,” Cameron reminded her. He glanced at the hearth to be sure the fire was lit well enough and then sat on the sofa beside his wife.

  “We could ask the judge to change it,” Cathleen suggested. “He would, I know he would.”

  “Right handy having an American judge in the family,” Edward said.

  Cameron smiled. “I must remember to thank McKenna for marrying him.”

  “Is it the name you object to?” Laura asked.

  “‘Tis not a Scottish name,” Cameron answered.

  “But if it were a Scottish name, would you approve?” Cathleen asked.

  Edward took a sip of his brandy and set his glass down. “I like the idea. The duchess will never guess we changed her name.”

  “I agree,” Laura said. “You must tell the world about her and calling her Blair would surely bring the duchess to your door.”

  Cameron stared at the floor and just let them talk. There was a name he preferred, one handed down through the ages that he liked very much and one he hoped to name a daughter someday. “I have always favored the name Bethia.”

  “Bethia Blair MacGreagor?” Edward asked. “Too many ‘B’s.”

  “And Bethia is too close to Blair,” Cathleen pointed out. “I think Miss Addie Blair MacGreagor much better. American’s call their little girls Addie all the time, and she is American.”

  “Too many ‘A’s,” Edward muttered.

  “And Blair Bayington is not too many ‘B’s?” Laura teased.

  “I rather like the ‘B’s in that name.”

  “Oh, Edward, you are just partial to the name Blair. Did you happen to tell the duchess it was your favorite name?”

  Edward tried to think. “Did I? Is that why she named the child Blair? Confound it; she had this planned all along.”

  Laura snuggled closer and took her husband’s hand. “In that case, I say we get even.”

  “Oh dear, what are you up to, my love?”

  “Nothing much. I simply think we should adopt a daughter and name her Blair.”

  It was a long moment before anyone said a word. Edward looked at his wife, but he didn’t really see her. The wheels of what such a move might mean were turning in his mind.

  “When the duchess finds Blair not with Mrs. Sinclair, she will expect you to have found her,” Cameron said.

  “And she’ll be on my doorstep demanding I give her back.” Edward closed his eyes and rubbed his brow. “The point is to rid ourselves of the duchess, not to invite her to sit on our doorstep demanding her daughter.”

  “Therein lies the beauty, Edward,” said Laura. “When she sees our child, she will know she is not her Blair. We will have tricked the duchess for a change.”

  “The idea does tend to grow on me,” Cameron said. “Yet, the duchess knows of our friendship. She will suspect we have her if you do not.”

  “Then we will say you took her to America,” said Cathleen. “‘Tis not a lie, only she will think tis true having seen us coming back alone.”

  “And when she goes to America to get her from Hannish?” Cameron asked.

  Cathleen sighed. “Then he will say she is adopted out. Abigail Whitfield offered to hide her if need be.”

  “Poor Blair, she’ll not know where she is to call home if we do that,” said Cameron.

  “We will only say it, we will not…” Cathleen started.

  “No,” said Edward. “My butler will tell her Blair is in America with Hannish, for a price. He is quite good at getting her to bribe him.”

  “What say you; shall we adopt a daughter then?” Laura hopefully asked.

  Edward raised an eyebrow. “I say we give it careful consideration.”

  “So do I,” said Cameron. “If there is a flaw in this idea, we best find it before the duchess does.”

  CHAPTER 10

  “I am so exc
ited to be going shopping,” said Laura, sitting opposite Cathleen in the MacGreagor carriage. “However did you convince Alistair not to come with us?”

  “He is quite put out and will no doubt tell on me, but I want to see the city without anyone noticing who we are. I might never have another chance.”

  “You are right. We shall fool them all into thinking we are common.”

  Cathleen looked Laura up and down. “I suppose we are dressed common enough.”

  “I have never felt so common in years,” Laura laughed. “But this carriage will surely give us away.”

  “You are right. We must depart the carriage at the edge of town then.”

  “Do you suppose Alistair charged the driver to keep a close eye on us?”

  “I am quite certain he did.”

  “Good, I feel just a little exposed without someone sort of protection.”

  “Never fear, I shall protect you with my life.”

  Laura giggled. “I am sooo comforted,” she teased.

  Cathleen turned to look at the countryside through the window. “Scotland is so green. Colorado turns quite brown this time of year.”

  “We suffer a lot of rain in the Kingdom as you are well aware having been raised in England. Cameron says you learned to speak Gaelic at Marblestone. It should come in handy here, but you must interpret for me.”

  “If I speak it well enough. I might well get us arrested.”

  “Then we shall pray for a constable who speaks English.” Laura paused for a moment before she changed the subject. “You must have the perfect gown for your reception.”

  “What reception?”

  “My dear Cathleen, you husband will want to present you to everyone he knows, and a reception is the best of all opportunities. The instant we get home, we must begin making all the arrangements.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  Cathleen looked a little down in the mouth, which made Laura smile. “Fret not; I will help with every detail. It shall be an exceptional event, just the kind that will make your husband proud.”

  *

  There was so much to see and do in Edinburgh, Cathleen and Laura nearly forgot their intention to order new clothes. Just as Laura predicted, their driver followed, although he kept his distance. They walked up and down the sidewalks on Princess Street, admired the glorious buildings and had tea under a large umbrella outside a café. As the time slipped away, they decided they should at least choose material and happened into a dressmaker shop, where lengths of beautiful satins and silks were draped over upright bolts.