Marblestone Mansion, Book 10 Read online

  “You have not changed your mind about robbing the place, have you?”

  Willis scoffed. “You know me better than that. I would do anything to leave this town.”

  “We cannot come back for a long time, you know. If we have money, they will know we did not work for it.”

  “I thought of that.”

  “And?” Earl asked.

  “Well, not coming back will not be a big loss for me. My Pa keeps hinting that it’s time for me to be out on my own anyway.”

  Earl glanced toward home. “Mine doesn’t say it, but I can tell he is thinking it. He’ll have one less mouth to feed, and I eat more than most.” He scratched the side of his cold face. “You think you could leave Susan behind for good?”

  “I’ve thought about that too,” Willis confessed. His hands were still cold, so he pulled his coat tighter, folded his arms, and tucked his hands inside the folds. “I like her and would probably marry her someday if I stayed, but she is not the only girl in the world. Even the Sears catalogue has prettier girls than Susan.”

  Earl stood up straight and kicked a rotting apple away with his foot. “I’m going to grow a beard and a mustache just in case.”

  “In case of what?”

  “In case Lillie Mae sees us.”

  “Good idea. I will do the same. When you thinking of leaving?”

  “Come spring,” Earl muttered as he headed home to get warm. “I mean to buy me a big spread up in Wyoming.”

  Willis smiled and watched Earl walk across the road and then up the lane to his father’s farm. Willis’ shabby coat was not nearly warm enough, but he hated going home. Lillie Mae’s letters talked of having second helpings of food, new clothes, and even new shoes. All his life, he had milked the cows, fed the chickens, slopped the pigs, and worked the land. Not once had he seen a new pair of shoes bought just for him. After they got the money, that was the first thing he was going to buy, and if he could get a good look at a pretty girl too, so much the better.

  From where he stood, Willis could see Lillie Mae’s home on the other side of a barbed wire fence. It sat on farmland that hadn’t been worked in years, and the house looked as though it might fall in at any moment. Built nearly fifty years ago, it was a square sod house with a lean-to shaped extra room added on the side. In front of the house was a chicken coop where the chickens were kept to keep them safe from the foxes at night. Next to the coop was a tall stack of corncobs, minus the corn. Willis had only been inside the house once, and that was when Lillie Mae twisted her ankle and had to be carried home.

  If there was anything good about Peyton, it was that nearly everyone was equally poor. Most had more children than they could feed, and he just happened to be born the second oldest of thirteen. Lillie Mae had it even worse. Her father was the town drunk, and not a day went by that someone didn’t have a tale to tell about old Jeb Flynn. It was unbearably embarrassing for Lillie Mae, and on the bad days, she would crawl under the barbed wire fence, and come to him with tears in her eyes. Willis never had to ask what was wrong. He just patted her head and let her cry until she got it out of her system. She never thanked him either. She just nodded and then went back to that horrible place she called home. There was poor and then there was really poor. Willis didn’t know much about the world, but he knew the difference between poor and really poor. By the time she was ten, she had apparently shed all the tears she had, for she stopped coming to see him.

  Lillie Mae had a habit of wrongly guessing what he was going to say before he said it, and he found her amusing. She was a thief too. Although they had carrots, tomatoes, and different kinds of squash in the garden, she only stole the radishes. He guessed it was her favorite, so the next spring, Willis planted an extra two rows. Mostly though, he pitied her. The Flynns had chickens they couldn’t eat, and might have had a garden of their own if Jeb spent some of the egg money on seeds. But when Jed Flynn had money, he spent it on spirits.

  At twelve, Lillie Mae set out to find a better life, and Willis hadn’t seen her since. From what her letters said, a better life is exactly what she found. A better life was what he wanted too, and he didn’t think he cared what he had to do to get it.

  *

  The daughter of Lord Edward Bayington and the ex-duchess of Glenartair was a happy fifteen-year-old despite the whole town knowing what a mess her mother was. As far as Blair was concerned, Cameron and Cathleen MacGreagor were her real parents anyway, and thankfully, the rumors about her birth mother died down before she returned to school in the fall. She had far more important things to think about anyway, such as writing letters to her half-brother, Bradford Bayington, who promptly answered them.

  If she was to visit Lady Bayington in London someday, she had an enormous appetite for all things British, and Bradford didn’t seem to mind answering her endless questions. In return, she wrote about the new records she received for her Victrola at Christmas, and how her colt, Black Shadow, was growing tall and being weaned. After the colt was weaned, Tristin promised to break the horse in so she could ride him, and she eagerly awaited the day.

  They did not often talk about their special connection – the one concerning Alexandra Sinclair and the scandal that involved her mother and his father. Occasionally, she mentioned it in a letter, and sometimes he wrote about his encounters on the subject at school. Neither assumed the scandal would be long forgotten by the time they were allowed out in the world, but perhaps it might be manageable if they stuck together.

  Most girls Blair’s age would have graduated at sixteen, but because her true age was not discovered until recently, she was a year behind. Therefore, in the spring of 1910, she was eager to become an adult and enjoy all the freedom that entailed…if her father would let her. The more Blair blossomed into a woman, and the more beautiful she became, the more protective Cameron grew. Sometimes, Cathleen was able to reason with him, allowing Blair some measure of liberty, but it was not as often as Blair desired. Even then, she was not allowed to go anywhere alone, and since the number of servants had decreased, and the duties for those remaining increased, more often than not her cousin, Justin, was encouraged to accompany her.

  It was on one such occasion that Justin sat at a table in the home of Blair’s best friend, Amanda Danford, with his chin resting on the palm of his hand. Never had he been so bored. When the girls in the parlor giggled yet again over something one of the boys at school said, Justin rolled his eyes. Talk of boys nauseated him, and if it wasn’t boys, it was hair, hats, and clothes. He may have been tall for his age, but at nine, Justin cared not one whit about any of those things.

  Lost in his brooding, he wasn’t paying attention when Blair came and put a hand on his shoulder. “‘Tis not my fault you are forced to come with me, you know.”

  He was not appeased. “Could you not be ugly for my sake?”

  She smiled. “For your sake, I would if I could.”

  “You could…if you tried,” he angrily shot back. “I want to ride my horse or play baseball, but no…I must be here with you.”

  Blair was taken aback by the anger in his eyes. Until then, she didn’t truly know how much he resented her. “They fear someone…a bad man will take me.”

  “I hope he does,” said Justin. He switched his chin to his other hand and turned away so he wouldn’t have to look at her.

  Blair lowered her eyes for a moment. She could think of nothing more to say, so she went back to her friends. Even so, she glanced his direction often. He hadn’t moved.

  It was then that Mrs. Danford took pity and handed him a book he had not yet read. The title was The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Justin was hesitant at first, but he accepted the book and thanked her. He was not so sure his mother would approve of him reading about a wizard, but he had no objection to it. From the very first page, he was hooked. It was about Kansas, and he could practically see Kansas from Marblestone’s second floor.

  Before long, Blair was ready to go home. He hated leaving the story, but Mrs
. Danford marked the place and promised to have the book available the next time he accompanied his cousin. After that, however, and for the remainder of the winter, Blair did not visit her friends at their homes and Justin forgot all about his harsh words.

  Blair didn’t forget, and instead of going out, she invited her friends over. When they could not come, she spent more time reading and planning her journey to London. That meant more letters to and from Bradford Bayington.

  January 12, 1910

  Most highly regarded Blair,

  I have good news! My twin sister, who as you know is also called Blair, has decided she wishes to be called Tippy instead. Where she got that name is more than I shall ever know, but it certainly makes my life easier. Now, when I say Blair, everyone will know of whom I am speaking.

  Tippy continues to be a challenge…he calls it, for the Headmaster. He recently declared that her guardian angel has been forced to call in reinforcements, because one simply cannot handle her. She is not truly bad. She is just Tippy. She claims the headmaster and her instructors cannot give proper instructions. It is sometimes hard to know if she truly does not comprehend, or if she adores making more work for the instructors. My guess would be the latter, for she seems to understand Mother’s instructions well enough.

  More good news. I managed to get high marks on my mathematics test. It is truly a miracle. Then again, it might be bad news, for now the instructors shall expect much more from me.

  As per your request, I have put Paris on your list of required places to visit when you come. I must say, the list is getting quite long. I suspect you shall have to stay at least a year to see them all.

  Your friend forever,

  Bradford

  *

  February 3, 1910

  My most favored stepbrother,

  Please give Tippy my warmest regards when next you see her, and thank her for removing the tangled web of names our parents so unfortunately wove.

  Mother and Aunt Leesil are having the most wonderful time trying to guess if the duchess is indeed dead. Mother says aye, and Aunt Leesil is convinced the answer is nay. They are quite entertaining and I enjoy their verbal tennis matches immensely. As for me, I care not which is true, so long as the duchess keeps her distance from my family. Of course, if she is alive, keeping away from us forever is unlikely. Therefore, we remain on our guard, although not as diligently as we have been in the past.

  Warmest regards,

  Blair

  *

  The cold winter meant less time spent actually building houses, and more time for the three owners of the Whitfield and MacGreagor Construction Company to stay at home, and draw up new house plans for the coming year. It was in winter that Claymore most often mentioned retiring and staying home in front of the hearth reading to his heart’s content. He tried it a time or two, but after Abigail required so much of his attention, he ended up reading to his heart’s content in his office in downtown Colorado Springs.

  In Marblestone’s study, the fire in the hearth crackled and popped, as Cameron stood looking out the window at the way the moonlight turned the snow in the backyard to various shades of dark and light blue. The electric lights inside dimmed for a few seconds, and threatened to go out altogether, but then held steady. It was remarkable how much the brothers still looked alike, both unusually tall with dark hair and muscular builds. “I cannae think what it is, but somethin’ calls me to the land of our fathers.”

  “I know,” said Hannish. Seated at his roll top desk, he laid his fountain pen down and folded his arms. “I feel it as well. Last week, McKenna confessed she has thoughts of goin’ home too.” Although he was ten years older than he was when he built Marblestone, some things had not changed. He rubbed the back of his neck, just as he always did when he was troubled. “Yet, dare we take the children from their school, their friends and the home they love so well?”

  “They are children. If we do, they shall have a new school and learn to love Scotland as much as we.”

  “And our wives? Already they suspect somethin’ is up, particularly since we dinna go to bed as early as we once did.”

  “If I go, Cathleen will go with me,” Cameron hesitated before he added, “surely.”

  “And if she refuses?”

  Cameron turned to face Hannish. “Brother, ‘tis precisely why we must all go. We cannae separate the sisters again. ‘Tis too painful for them.”

  “And the clan? Do we take them with us?”

  “We can offer to take them. Whether they go or not is up to them.”

  Hannish shook his head. “What about Ben and Gloria? Abigail will have our heads if we take her daughter to Scotland.”

  “Then we shall take the Whitfields with us too.”

  At last, Hannish smiled. “You are a braver lad than I. Even if Claymore agrees, Abigail shall need far more persuadin’. There are those in the world who dinna welcome change and she is one of them.”

  “She changes her furniture often enough. Besides, she might enjoy a new house to decorate.”

  “Aye, but would she enjoy conversin’ with people she can hardly understand?”

  “She understands us. She would soon adjust.”

  “Perhaps she might at that. Yet, moving everyone and rebuildin’ the castle will be very expensive.”

  Cameron finally went back to his chair and sat down. “We can always build houses in Scotland. The lads there need employment the same as they do here. Or, we could rebuild the castle and not go back to Scotland.”

  “Not go back? Who would live in it?”

  “We could pass the title to someone else in the clan,” said Cameron.

  “Can we? Is it legal?”

  “I dinna, know, but I know who to ask.”

  “‘Tis worth considerin’.” On the long table lay several rolled up drafting plans for the new houses. Hannish motioned his brother over to the table, searched for the one he wanted, untied a string, and unrolled the plans for rebuilding the castle. “Do you still think ‘tis how you remember it?”

  “It is, save for the draft.”

  Hannish chuckled. “Uncle never could figure out where it was comin’ from.”

  “Nor could I.” Cameron looked at his pocket watch, and then put it back in his vest pocket. “I recommend we take the plans to the office, and discuss it there before Leesil and Cathleen start askin’ questions.

  “Very well, but…”

  *

  Outside the study door, Leesil took her sister’s hand and together they hurried through the parlor and up the marble stairs. “I believe they are far more serious about leaving than I thought,” she whispered.

  “Aye,” Cathleen was worried. “Oh, sister, I dinna fancy going back. Claymore thinks Europe shall be at war soon and…”

  “But not in Scotland.”

  “If the British go to war, so shall the Scots. It cannae be helped.” Cathleen hugged her sister and then hurried on down the hallway.

  “War,” Leesil whispered as she went in to the bedroom she shared with Hannish, and quickly got under the covers. “Impossible.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Abigail was beside herself with worry. While Colorado Springs enjoyed an irregularity, whereby snow fell in Denver to the north and Pueblo to the south, it skipped downtown Colorado Springs. However, the Whitfields lived on a hill where no such irregularity occurred. It was not that she needed or even intended to go somewhere. It was that she feared Claymore’s automobile would not make it up the hill if the snow got any deeper. If he got stuck, he would have to wait for someone to send for a team of horses to pull him the rest of the way home. By then, he would be so cold it would take hours just to thaw him out.

  Abigail wanted him home – and right now!

  She marched to her sitting room, picked up the telephone, and just as she suspected, two people were already talking.

  “Get off the line!” Abigail shouted. “This is an emergency!” It seemed like forever, but finally she heard both p
arties hang up. Another moment passed before Mable answered, “Operator.”

  “Mable, put me through to…”

  “Mrs. Whitfield, I am receiving complaints. You must wait your turn to make a call, and you cannot use your declared emergencies as an excuse to interrupt other…”

  Abigail put her hand on her hip. “I should like to speak to my husband at 1473, if you please.”

  “Oh, very well.”

  *

  At last, February turned to March. The weather was steadily improving, although it was still a little too chilly for outdoor sports. Even so, the children were bundled up and sent outside to expend some of their seemingly inexhaustible energy. The baby was finally asleep and the MacGreagor sisters had a moment to themselves.

  Just arriving from his daily marketing trip to town, Dugan knocked on the upstairs sitting room door, waited to be asked in, and then delivered a letter.

  “Thank you, Dugan,” said Leesil as she turned it over to read the front of the envelope. “‘Tis from Tom and Madeline.”

  “How wonderful. We have not heard from them in ages,” said Cathleen. She nodded her appreciation to Dugan, and then waited until he left the room. “It has been six months at least. Last time they wrote, Tom said he heard his cousin, Rose of the Cimarron, had also gone out west and lived in Washington State somewhere.”

  Leesil slipped her finger under the envelope flap and tore it open. “Nor have we heard from Keith and Margaret Ann. I do hope everything is well with them.”

  “Read it aloud, sister,” said Cathleen.

  March 10, 1910

  My beloved MacGreagors,

  We are all well, although some of us have a little healing yet to do. Do not be concerned, the injuries are but bumps and bruises.

  We had the most marvelous visit with Keith and Margaret Ann, who as you know settled in Spokane, Washington. They are very happy, especially with the new baby, whom they have named Cathleen after your very own Cathleen. At any rate, since we were that far north, Tom and I decided to see Seattle, paid the fair, and boarded the train. It was there our troubles began.