Marblestone Mansion, Book 7 Read online

  “Finally, we are all together again,” Leesil sighed. “I was in constant fear somethin’ might happen and we’d not be able to reach you for weeks and weeks.”

  “I feared the same,” Cathleen said, as she watched Hannish introduce her little daughter to the Whitfields. “I’m not likely to see her much from now on, am I?”

  Leesil giggled. “Fear not, I have a daughter for him to dote over as well.”

  “Oh, good,” Cathleen said. “I was hoping so.” She abruptly put her hands on her hips. “Where might my only niece be?”

  “Sweetheart,” Cameron interrupted. “the servants are waiting to greet us.”

  “Of course.” Cathleen took his arm and walked with him to the end of the line. Some of the servants were new, so Prescot introduced them, but they already knew the others and were happy to see them again.

  Then there was Elaine. She did her best to curtsey, though it was apparent she was not comfortable or pleased with the idea. When she nearly fell over, Cameron quickly reached out to steady her.

  Instead of being grateful, Elaine looked annoyed, which made Cook Jessie shake her head. “Pity he dinna let her fall,” she whispered to Cook Halen. Halen nodded.

  The Whitfields waited patiently to have their say until after the Duke and Duchess of Glenartair greeted the servants. It was especially difficult for Abigail, for she had so very much to tell them, and the instant they were close enough, she began. There was a time when Claymore would have tried to stop her chatter, but it usually did not work, so he gave up trying and just let her get it out of her system…if she ever could.

  Abigail was still carrying on, jumping from one subject to the next and back again, while Cameron watched the women take the children inside. When they were gone, he frowned at his brother. “My sister is not here?”

  Hannish shrugged. “She sends her love. The judge has made off with McKenna once again. He does that quite often now that Nicky is older. The truth be told, the judge wished to observe a rather large trial, and has taken them to Denver. They shall return as soon as the trial is over. By then, you should be well rested.”

  “I see. Did the wine arrive safely?” Cameron asked as they passed through the foyer into the parlor. The largest room in the house, except for the ballroom, the parlor had a settee, two davenports and four comfortable chairs complete with tables and electric lamps. The large marble hearth in the middle of one wall matched the magnificent marble staircase. On the opposite wall hung the painting of Glenartair Castle that Cameron sent to them the year before.

  “I am happy to report only one broken bottle,” Hannish answered.

  Cameron put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I say we open one now.”

  “I agree.” Hannish nodded for Prescot to bring them a bottle, and when Cameron stopped to admire the painting, he stopped too.

  “I was tempted to keep that paintin’.”

  “‘Tis very well done,” Hannish agreed, “and is much treasured here.”

  Claymore chuckled. “I tried to take it home with me once, but your brother threatened to have me thrashed.”

  “I dinna doubt that,” Cameron said.

  Hannish led the way across the parlor to his study. “Scottish wine, at last. I have been eyein’ those bottles since they first arrived.”

  “I am surprised there are any left,” Cameron said before he closed the door.

  *

  While the footmen carried the traveling bags upstairs and Henry drove the carriage around back, the rest of the servants hurried to enter through the mansion’s side door. Millie and Harriett hurried up the back stairs to draw a bath for Cathleen, followed by two housekeepers needed to do the unpacking.

  Elaine dutifully followed Cook Jessie back into the kitchen. “So that is what a duke looks like. He looks ordinary to me.”

  “You were expectin’ a crown?” Jessie asked. She was still not pleased with the way Elaine acted outside.

  “No, but how are people to know he is a duke?”

  “In Scotland, everyone already knows.”

  “Well, they do not know here,” Elaine sneered.

  “They shall know as soon as Mr. Lester tells them what he looks like,” Cook Halen said.

  Elaine frowned. “Mr. Lester this and Mr. Lester that. I swear, Mr. Lester is here, even when he is not.” She put the last of the clean dishes in the cupboard and then leaned against the deep, cast-iron sink. “I saw Shepard talking to Gretchen this morning. He looked sad and she looked angry. I say he has done something very terrible to her, and that is why she refused him.”

  “Shepard?” Jessie asked. “I doubt that, he is the kindest lad in all the world.”

  “I agree,” said Halen.

  “Perhaps next time, I can get close enough to hear what they are saying.”

  “Miss Elaine, ‘tis not our business. Have you no washin’ to do?” Jessie asked.

  “I have already finished the washing, and now I must wait for one of the men to carry it out for me. Of course, they are very busy just now, and I’ll likely not finish hanging the wet clothes out before dark.”

  Cook Halen pulled a large copper pan out of a bottom cupboard and put it on the stove. “Perhaps you might lighten the basket and carry it yourself?”

  Elaine puffed her cheeks. “I thought Mr. Hannish was to hire another footman now that Tom is gone.”

  Jessie could hold back her irritation no longer, “Mr. Hannish does what he pleases, and you are not to complain. Be gone with you, lass, afore I have a word with Millie on your behalf.”

  Elaine shrugged, turned her nose up and walked out of the kitchen. Just after she was out of sight, she paused to see what the cooks would say.

  “That one shall get herself dismissed if she is not careful,” said Halen.

  Jessie nodded. “Aye, she will.”

  Halen set a large roast in the pot, and then added water. With a poker, she opened a door in the coal stove and pushed smoldering chunks of coal back until they were directly underneath the pot. “What do you suppose truly happened between Shepard and Gretchen. I thought them perfect for each other.”

  “As did I. Whatever happened, if they have not reached an understandin’ by now, ‘tis not likely they ever shall.”

  Halen added two more chunks of coal, pushed them back and then closed the door. “I wonder if the death of Gretchen’s sister keeps her from trusting Shepard…or any other man.”

  Jessie considered that. “Could be, could rightly be, now that you mention it.”

  Outside the door, Elaine bit her lower lip. Something happened to Gretchen’s sister, but what? That was a story she hadn’t heard, but she intended to find out. Off she went to lighten the load in the basket, so she could carry it out the back door to the clothesline. She loved a good mystery and this one truly fascinated her.

  *

  Cameron had not seen the dining room since Leesil changed the décor, and he hardly noticed it now. The white wallpaper had pastel pink roses and tied back deep red rose curtains hung on each side of three large windows. The oak table that could seat fifty with all its leaves in place had been shortened, and the extra tall back chairs had been removed. A gold-rimmed mantle clock still sat on one of the sideboards, two electric floor lamps gave the room plenty of soft light, the table was set with the best china and silverware, and Brookton and Shepard stood ready to seat the family as they came in.

  Cameron was far more interested in the highchair that sat in the corner of the room and walked straight to it. “Is this it?”

  “Aye,” Hannish answered. “We make them in the warehouse in winter to keep the men busy.”

  Cameron admired the wooden legs, the soft wood seat and then lifted the hinged tray. It was exactly the right size to lift over a child’s head and put to the back without causing an injury. “How many have you sold?”

  “Not many, they are just for family so far.”

  Cameron ran his fingers over the decorative carving on the back, “At wh
at cost for materials?”

  “Very little. We use scraps of wood left over from buildin’ houses. We would likely have sold the scraps for kindlin’ if we hadn’t found a way to use them. Claymore saw a picture of one…”

  “Did I hear my name?” Claymore asked as he entered the room. Instead of waiting for an answer, he asked, “How is that beautiful, young wife of yours, Cameron? She looks well, though a bit tired.”

  Cameron smiled. “She is very well, now that she is with her sister. I doubt we shall ever be able to part them again.”

  “Brothers married to sisters. Have you any idea how rare that is?” Claymore asked.

  “I had not truly considered it,” Cameron admitted. “Ah, here she comes now.” He smiled at Cathleen, and then joined her at the table.

  “And my beautiful wife as well,” said Claymore. He pecked Abigail on the cheek, and remained standing until all the women were seated.

  “The babies are fast asleep, I am happy to report.” Abigail said. She went to her usual place and waited for Brookton to pull her chair away from the table. “I must say, I hope to be a grandmother soon, but I should not like another child of my own. The work is endless, as I am certain you already know. You look very tired, Leesil.”

  “I shall recover once Kate begins to sleep through the night,” said Leesil. She let Shepard seat her, waited for the men to sit, and then nodded for the footmen to serve them. As she requested, their dinner consisted of split pea soup with croutons followed by beef pot roast, browned potatoes, creamed turnips and peas, and lettuce with French dressing. The dessert tray held pudding, cake, and Jessie’s famous cherry cobbler.

  “Bat Masterson came here, you have heard,” Abigail couldn’t wait to say.

  “Who?” Cameron asked.

  “Abigail, perhaps we might save that discussion for another time,” Leesil suggested. She nodded her appreciation as Shepard filled her bowl with soup.

  “Yes, but we have never had such a glorious scandal as when Slippery Jack Walker lived among us.”

  “Abigail, let us not talk of him ever again,” Leesil admonished. “‘Tis best forgotten for Loretta’s sake.”

  “You are right, of course. I was just saying how we have not had such a delightful scandal in Colorado Springs since.”

  “Then you have not heard?” Hannish asked. He was always happy to have news Abigail did not already know.

  Abigail’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “Someone stole the train station bell.”

  “No,” Claymore muttered. He failed to notice the gleam in his wife’s eyes, but then she was always up to something.

  Abigail thoroughly enjoyed the look of disappointment on Hannish’s face when she said, “Mrs. Merth called me the instant her husband called her, which I am happy to report was before we left the house.”

  Hannish stuck out his lower lip. “I am truly heartsick.”

  Cameron chuckled. “Have you an automobile now too?” he asked Claymore just to change the subject.

  “I have, though it does me little good. The state refuses to build roads.”

  “Why?” Cathleen asked.

  “Because the people claim only the rich can afford automobiles, so the rich should pay for the roads.”

  “What about toll roads? They have them in other parts of the state, so why not here?” Leesil asked. She declined the soup and waited for the main meal.

  “I completely agree,” Claymore said, “but the state does not. Some lads have given in and begin to build the tarmac themselves, but ‘tis hard work and at great expense. They must lay the tar, roll it solid with steamrollers, and see that the slant is good enough for the rain to drain into ditches that must be dug on both sides. I fear good roads are yet a far off dream.”

  Abigail turned up her nose. “The tarmac stinks to high heaven.”

  “Only for a day or two, my love,” Claymore soothed. “Roads are not our only problem. The druggist knows not when he shall get more petro and until then, we cannot drive them anyway. At least we own them.”

  “Aye, if for nothin’ more than to look at,” Hannish agreed.

  “They only have two seats,” Leesil complained. “‘Tis not the least bit handy if there are more than two of us. What am I to do, hold both children on my lap?”

  Abigail was clearly not impressed with the new machines either. “That is so true, and did we not hear of accidents all over America.”

  Claymore chuckled, “All over America? My dear, they have manufactured but a few hundred so far, hardly enough to be all over America.”

  Abigail lowered her voice and spoke directly to Leesil, “One man got run over in London or Kent or somewhere. They are dangerous and we best not have them anyway.”

  “They cannae be as dangerous as horses,” Leesil said. “How many have gotten run over by a horse and carriage?”

  “How is the new fellow doing?” Claymore asked, changing the subject again. “Is he as good with horses as he claimed when you hired him?”

  “Henry Manning seems to have everythin’ well in hand,” Hannish answered. “He does what I formerly paid two to do, of which I am quite amazed. One of the horses went lame and we had to shoot her, but…”

  “Mr. MacGreagor, not at the dinner table,” Abigail scolded.

  “Forgive me, my dear Abigail.”

  “What happened to Seth and Wayland?” Cameron asked. “Were they not happy here?”

  “They were until they got the Oregon fever, took their wives and went on their merry way. We hear that loggers in Oregon make a grand fortune these days.”

  Claymore vigorously nodded. Finished with his soup, he leaned to the side so Brookton could take his bowl away. “Well, the country shall always need wood.”

  “Are Moan and Elizabeth well?” Leesil asked.

  “Very well,” Cameron answered. “Alistair and Sarah stayed on to see that they are settled, and then they shall join us. I believe they are both pleased we chose to live in America.”

  “Sarah is with child, finally,” Cathleen announced.

  “How splendid,” said Abigail.

  “I am delighted. When is she due?” Leesil asked.

  “She only just found out before we left. I doubt even she knows for sure.” Cathleen giggled. “The servants have taken to callin’ Alistair “primmy” behind his back, of course.”

  “Primmy?” Hannish asked.

  Cameron nodded and handed his bowl to Shepard. “Aye, for they claim he is the most prim and proper butler in all of Scotland.” Cameron remembered who he was speaking in front of, and turned to look Shepard in the eye. “I’d not like the other servants to hear that, agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Shepard said. When he looked at him, Brookton nodded.

  “He is a bit starched occasionally,” Hannish agreed. “Primmy,” he snickered.

  “Brother…” Cameron started.

  “Very well, I’ll not say a word.” Even so, he was having trouble wiping the grin off his face.

  Claymore playfully scooted his chair around so he could face Abigail directly. “Wife, you are not to breathe a word of it, do you hear?”

  “Of what?” she asked.

  Her grin was slow in coming, but at last, everyone laughed, and he turned his chair back to face the table. He wasn’t altogether sure he could trust her, but there was time to remind her after they got home. He helped himself to a slice of roast beef, and then potatoes from the platters the footmen held. “Cameron, I hear you sold your business to avoid the trade unions. You were very wise to do so, very wise indeed.”

  Cameron nodded. “I saw no other choice in the matter. Frankly, I am quite relieved to have sold out and I am lookin’ forward to less tedious employment.”

  Claymore sipped his coffee and set his cup down. “I suppose we might find something for you to do at the Whitfield and MacGreagor Construction Company.”

  “I was hopin’ you might say that.”

  “I thought he is to become a partner,” said Lee
sil.

  “He is, sweetheart,” Hannish assured her. “Claymore is teasin’.”

  “Oh, of course he is. I must be more done in than I thought.”

  “I say we both sleep until noon tomorrow,” said Cathleen. “If the babies will let us.”

  Claymore was eager to get back to discussing business. “We had much to do after Loretta Swinton signed the papers, and gave her notorious husband’s company to us. We were forced to tear out shelves and such, in order to make them the kind of homes we can be proud of. Swinton used inferior materials, you see.”

  “So Hannish reported,” said Cameron. “Has the union strike not affected business in Colorado Springs? In Scotland, the strikes affect everyone.”

  Claymore cleared his throat the way he always did when he was preparing to make a long-winded speech. “The entire country is unwell, I am sad to say. Men everywhere need jobs, so they neglect buying a ticket, hop the trains illegally and come west to the gold fields. They are willing to do most anything, even crawl into a dark tunnel underground. And what must happen to the gold once it is dug out? It must be smeltered, that is to say, separated from the rock and melted down.”

  Abigail lowered her voice to a whisper. “The smelters are in Colorado City.”

  “Colorado City, yes, yes, my love, everyone knows the reputation of the place.”

  “What reputation,” Cathleen innocently asked.

  Leesil confided, “‘Tis where Hannish, Prescot and Alistair went to…calm their nerves after the Duchess was sent away.”

  Cathleen’s eyes brightened. “Oh, I remember that story. Alistair passed out on the parlor floor, as I recall.”

  “That he did,” Leesil confirmed. She looked at her husband before she said the next sentence. “Colorado City overflows with ladies of the evenin’, I have heard.”

  Hannish covered his wife’s hand with his, “None of which we encountered.”

  “I am happy to hear it,” said Leesil, though she did not believe a word of it.