Marblestone Mansion, Book 3 Read online

  “Sassy?” Keith smiled, remembering the first time he saw the stowaway when the Scots arrived in Colorado.

  “I don’t think anyone calls her that these days, not now that she is a mother.”

  “I suppose not. You were saying?”

  “She is changing the whole house to suit herself and I confess her taste in decorations is much better than her husband’s. Prescot and Millie went to live with Miss McKenna and the judge, but then you already know that.”

  “I do, they live just down the street.”

  “It is different at Marblestone without Miss McKenna, but she seems happy. Harriet became Leesil’s ladies maid and with Prescot gone, Alistair runs the entire household now. Dugan and his wife, Beverly, moved into the empty cottage in the back.”

  “Do you like Beverly?”

  “I do. Presently, she is nanny to baby Justin and she is very good with him. Beverly is a teacher and is eager to teach William his letters and numbers after he learns to talk better. Oh, and since Prescot lives in town now, the quartet goes there to practice.”

  Keith smiled. “I can sometimes hear them when I am outside.”

  “Can you? I miss hearing them practice. They have already been asked to sing at three events and summer is just beginning.”

  “Our mayor has declared that we should have as many celebrations as possible this summer. He says it is good for business.”

  She quickened her pace when William started to fall, but didn’t quite reach him in time. Fortunately, he didn’t hurt himself and got right back up.

  “How is the newest MacGreagor?” Keith asked when he caught up.

  “He is wonderful. They named him Justin, after an ancient laird. Mr. Hannish carries his son around pretending to check on this or that, but we are not fooled. He will use any excuse to carry his son around.”

  “And Mrs. MacGreagor?”

  “She is fine and has but one complaint. She told her husband that if she was not allowed to play with her son occasionally, he would grow up thinking she was little more than a milk cow.”

  Keith chuckled. “I confess I have missed her humor.”

  Margaret Ann reached out and touched Keith’s arm. “You have not heard, have you?”

  “What?”

  “You remember Mr. Hannish’s brother?”

  “Mr. Cameron? I do, he came with his wife last summer.”

  “Well, his wife passed suddenly and took her unborn child with her.”

  Keith bowed his head. “I am sorry to hear that. I liked Miss Flora; she was very pleasant and friendly.”

  “I liked her too. All the Scots cried when Mr. Hannish told us the news. Even Alistair got a tear in his eye.”

  “Alistair, the always prim and proper butler?”

  “That’s the one.” Margaret Ann managed a smile in spite of the sad news. “Mr. Cameron is coming soon, and he is bringing the famous James.”

  “The one who grew up with Leesil and Cathleen in the orphanage?”

  “Yes. Oh, and you’ll never guess what.”

  “What?”

  “The men came to plant flowers and as a joke, Miss Cathleen had a silver plaque made up to put in the rose garden. It says, Here lies the duchess, for ‘twas here the duchess lied.”

  This time Keith actually laughed out loud. “I must go see that someday.”

  “Yes, you must. With a little help from the footmen, Cathleen sets up the croquet game in the evenings now that winter is behind us. It is not the same as it was when Carl was there last year, but it is good to have the fun and laughter back.”

  Everything she said made Keith a little more melancholy. He missed the Marblestone family more than he thought. “The town picnic is soon, will you be coming?”

  “All the MacGreagors are and we are looking forward to it.”

  “In that case, so am I.” He smiled, looked into her eyes, tipped his hat, and hurried back across the street to resume his butler duties.

  Margaret Ann watched him go and hoped very much his look meant he wanted to be more than just friends. She longed for a husband, her son needed a father and perhaps if she were very lucky, Keith wanted to fill the position.

  *

  Early the next morning, Cameron MacGreagor boarded a train in Scotland and traveled south to the outskirts of London. He was not expected, and after he got out of his rented carriage and notified the butler of his arrival, Cameron chose to stay outside where he and Lord Bayington would have more privacy. The Bayingtons loved entertaining as much as the MacGreagors, and were often hosts to several guests at a time, none of whom needed to overhear his news. Cameron didn’t believe in keeping anything from a wife, but each man had to decide how much to say for himself, particularly on a subject this sensitive. Besides, the weather was pleasant for a change and the fresh air could only do both of them good.

  The Bayington mansion was an impressive place, with a multitude of rooms and plenty of servants to keep it clean. The adjoining tree-lined pond, the meadow where spring flowers bloomed and the newly planted fields on the far off rolling English hills were inspiring. As he stood gazing at it all, Cameron remembered Cathleen’s words and finally noticed – indeed, the flowers bloomed again.

  “How are you holding up, Your Grace?” Lord Bayington asked, quickly bowing and then reaching out to shake Cameron’s hand.

  “I keep busy.”

  “I would do the same. We think of you often, will you not come in? It has been five months and there are many who wish to see you again.”

  “Edward, I dinna come seekin’ your company. I have somethin’ to tell you.”

  “That sounds dire. What is it?”

  “‘Tis about the duchess.”

  Lord Bayington’s friendly demeanor instantly changed. “Leave it to her to spoil a perfectly good day. She’s not come back, has she?”

  “She was still in America last we heard.”

  “I am relieved to hear that. Tell me what she is up to this time, and what I can do to help.”

  “Edward, the duchess has a child.”

  Lord Bayington wrinkled his brow, “Your brother’s child?”

  “Nay, the lassie was born before she married Hannish.”

  Lord Bayington stared at Cameron for a long moment before he looked away. “A girl?”

  “Aye, she looks just like her mother, I am told.”

  “How old?”

  “Five or six, perhaps. We cannae be certain.”

  Bayington considered what that mean for a moment. “If she is five, she might very well be mine. After we parted ways, I did not hear from the duchess again until after she married Hannish and began blackmailing me. That was a year or so later, as I recall.”

  “Aye, but who can know whose daughter she is? The duchess was not faithful to my brother, of that I am certain and you cannae be certain…”

  “She was not unfaithful to me. We were together constantly the entire month of our marriage…the month of my eternal regret.” The more he talked, the more Edward got upset. “Why does this surprise me? The bliss of having that woman out of England could not have lasted forever. Why would it? She is not content unless she can somehow claw her way back into my life. I dare say, she means to claim the last morsel of my very soul!”

  “Do calm yourself, Edward. The duchess does not know I am tellin’ you. In fact, keepin’ the child a secret was a benefit to us all.”

  “How so?”

  “While the duchess was married to my brother and livin’ in the castle, our footman, Dugan, followed her. She led him to the child and Dugan meant to tell Hannish, but after my brother sent his wife away, Dugan saw no need to bring it up. ‘Twas not until she returned to America that Dugan threatened to expose the existence of the child – if the duchess dinna take the bribe and run off in St. Louis.”

  “Run off from husband number five?”

  “Aye, Charles Whitfield, the poor sop.”

  “The poor sop, indeed.” Edward took another moment to think. “
Where is the girl? If we could learn her exact age...”

  “The duchess left the lassie with her second husband, Mr. Sinclair.”

  “While I have no high opinion of the duchess, as you call her, I never guessed she would abandon a child. Is there nothing that woman will not do?”

  “Apparently not. Accordin’ to Dugan, the lassie is treated well and is loved by Mr. Sinclair. You must agree, she is far better off with him than she would be with her mother.”

  “I certainly do agree. There are different kinds of love in this world, and the duchess is familiar with none of them. Will you go with me?”

  “You mean to claim her?” Cameron asked.

  “First, I mean to see if she is mine. If she is, I want her here with me where she belongs. She has four brothers and we have longed to have a daughter.”

  Cameron drew out his next few words, “Even the duchess’ daughter?”

  “Why do you say it like that? The child is her own person and having not been raised around…”

  “But once the duchess learns where she is…”

  Edward closed his eyes and shook his head. “You are right, of course. She would have another reason to taunt me and a very good one at that.”

  “How will you know if the child is yours? What if Sinclair claims she is his?”

  “I will know. The Bayington’s have a slight deformity and I have yet to see a child born to us without it.”

  “What sort of deformity?”

  “Our second toe is shorter than the first and third. It is not an impediment, but it is a certain sign. All I must do is see the child’s bare feet to know for sure. Will you go with me?”

  “Of course. Do you intend to go now?” Cameron asked.

  “This is as good a time as any. Allow me a moment to notify Lady Bayington.” Edward signaled for the driver to bring Cameron’s carriage around and then darted into the house. A few minutes later, he climbed into the carriage and took the seat opposite Cameron.

  *

  Their first stop was at a small shop in a nearby village to use the telephone. Finding out where Sinclair lived took a bit of doing, but as soon as Cameron identified himself as a duke, the operator was happy to help. As it turned out, it was not far from the Bayington mansion to Sinclair’s humble country manor.

  “Being a duke has its advantages,” Edward said as the carriage turned up a dirt road toward the Sinclair house.

  “And its disadvantages,” said Cameron. “I tend to intimidate some people. Perhaps I should wait out here.”

  “Perhaps you are right.” As soon as the carriage stopped, Edward stepped out, opened the wooden gate and closed it behind him. He walked up the stone pathway, hesitated for a moment and then knocked on the door. When a woman in a white apron answered, he announced himself. “Lord Bayington to see Mr. Sinclair.”

  The woman seemed surprised, but curtsied, led the way to a sitting room and then left. A moment later, another woman appeared who he guessed was the lady of the house. He was right.

  Mrs. Sinclair greeted him with a polite curtsy. “Kind sir, to what do I owe this honor?” She looked to be in her late twenties, had a round face to match her middle and wore her blonde hair swept up in a bun. She took a seat in a chair and bade him to sit on a modest settee.

  “I have come to speak with your husband. Is he about?” Edward asked, sitting down.

  “I am sad to say he died a fortnight ago.” Mrs. Sinclair looked as though she might weep, but that only lasted for a moment or two. “What did you wish to see him about?”

  Afraid of further upsetting her, Edward hesitated. Still, he had little choice but to continue. “A rather delicate matter, I fear.”

  “As you see, there is no one to talk to save me. Perhaps I can help you. What sort of delicate matter?”

  Lord Bayington took a deep breath. He could think of no pleasant way of asking, and asking was the only way to get to the truth. “It concerns a child in your care. We think she might be…”

  “You mean Alexandra’s child?”

  For a moment, he had forgotten how the duchess changed names as often as she changed husbands. “I believe her name is Alexandra. Do you yet have the child?”

  “I do.” She fidgeted in her seat a little and it was easy to see the subject was unsettling for her. “I was married to Mr. Sinclair when Alexandra brought the baby to us. I would have turned her away, but my husband insisted we keep her baby. I should have known then.”

  “Known what?”

  Mrs. Sinclair tightly pursed her lips for a moment. “That he loved her and not me. He used his last breath to speak her name. My husband left me with little money, children to care for, and in the end, he did not even love me.” She bowed her head and stared at the floor.

  “Mrs. Sinclair,” Edward started, “If this is too painful for you, I…”

  “My pain will pass soon enough. Lord Bayington, what is it you wish to know about Blair?”

  “Blair?”

  “Alex…how I dread saying her name…Blair is Alexandra’s child.”

  “I see. Mrs. Sinclair, I…knew Alexandra after she left your husband, and…”

  “Knew her…in the carnal sense?” Mrs. Sinclair slowly began to smile. “Are you saying Blair is your child?”

  “Quite possibly, yes.”

  She tightly gripped the armrests of her chair and began to raise her voice, “How I wish Mr. Sinclair could hear that. He was certain Blair was his. He even made me swear to help Alexandra should she return. If only you had come a fortnight ago. Knowing then how he tricked me, I’d not have shed a tear for him when he died – not one single tear.”

  “Mrs. Sinclair, I…”

  “I have cared for a child all these years and she is not Mr. Sinclair’s? I cannot believe it.”

  “Mrs. Sinclair, get hold of yourself. Mr. Sinclair might have been right. I merely wish to see the child and…”

  She abruptly stood up. “Take her, she is yours.”

  “What?” Edward asked, standing up as well.

  “She looks just like her mother and now she will be a constant reminder of my husband’s deceit. Take her away with you and let me be at peace.”

  “Mrs. Sinclair, please…”

  She began to wring her hands. “Do you not see, I will come to hate the child? Take her, pretend she is yours and be happy to have her.”

  “Mrs. Sinclair, may I at least know precisely when she was born?”

  “What does it matter?” She turned toward the door and shouted, “BLAIR!”

  A few moments later, a haggard little girl cautiously peeked through the doorway. Her dark hair was uncombed, her face was smudged and she kept her blue eyes firmly on those of Mrs. Sinclair.

  “This man has come for you. You are to go with him immediately,” Mrs. Sinclair announced.

  “Now?” asked the perplexed five-year-old.

  “Now,” Mrs. Sinclair answered.

  Blair caught her breath, “My dolly?”

  Mrs. Sinclair rolled her eyes, “She is not your dolly. She belongs to Sally.”

  “But…” the little girl started.

  “I’ll hear no buts from you, Miss Blair.” Mrs. Sinclair went to the door, grabbed Blair’s arm and pulled her into the room.

  Lord Bayington saw the child grimace and narrowed his eyes, “Unhand her or you shall answer to me.”

  A shocked Mrs. Sinclair quickly let go and when she did, Blair ran to Lord Bayington, grabbed his leg and hid herself behind him. Cautiously, she peeked around him to see if Mrs. Sinclair was coming for her.

  Lord Bayington was appalled, quickly turned, knelt down and put his arms protectively around the little girl. “How would you like to have a dolly of your own?”

  Even then, Blair never took her eyes off Mrs. Sinclair. “Yes, please.”

  “Good,” said Mrs. Sinclair. “You can buy clothes for her too. I’ll be needing hers for when Sally gets bigger.”

  Lord Bayington ignored Mrs. Sinclair and talked
to the child instead. “May I pick you up?”

  “Yes, please,” Blair answered. She reached her arms around Edward’s neck and let him lift her. Still, she made certain she could see exactly where Mrs. Sinclair was. Not once did she take her eyes off the woman, not until Lord Bayington had her out the door and inside the carriage.

  Seated in Edward’s lap, Blair made sure the carriage door was closed and they were moving before she took a deep breath. Then she spotted Cameron sitting across from her and tipped her head to one side. “Who’s he?”

  “His name is Cameron MacGreagor. Cameron, this is Blair. She has been quite gladly given to me.”

  Cameron was completely taken aback. “Given to you?” He watched Blair squirm out of Lord Bayington’s arms, and neatly arrange herself on the seat beside him before she folded her hands in her lap.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “I am not quite certain,” Cameron answered. Then he turned his attention back to Edward. “Is she…”

  “I do not yet know. Mrs. Sinclair would not say when she was born nor would she let me examine her. Mr. Sinclair died a fortnight ago.”

  Understanding every word, Blair vigorously nodded. “They put him in a box.”

  “I am sorry to hear that,” said Cameron. There was no mistaking who Blair’s mother was; she had the same delicate features, dark hair and blue eyes. “Blair, how old are you?”

  “Five,” she answered, holding up four fingers.

  Cameron smiled. It had been a long time since he’d been around a five-year-old. He glanced at Edward and guessed what he was thinking. He looked at her feet for a moment and then asked, “Are your shoes too small, Blair?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Shall we take them off?” Cameron asked.

  Blair’s eyes widened. “I must not take them off, not ever, lessen I want to stay in bed all day. Mrs. Sinclair said.”

  “Well, Mrs. Sinclair is not here presently and we shall not tell her. Shall I take them off for you?” Cameron scooted forward and started to reach for her foot, but Blair shoved his hand away.

  “I can do it.” Taking them off wasn’t that easy. First, she had to untie the high-top shoes just so, and then loosen each of the laces until at last she pulled the left shoe off her bare foot. Busy with her other shoe; she didn’t notice that both Cameron and Lord Bayington were staring at her toes.