Marblestone Mansion, Book 5 Read online

  “Living up to my end has been harder than I imagined.”

  “And you have spent far more money than I imagined any one woman could.”

  She looked away finally and thought about it. “I have not apologized to anyone in years.”

  “How well I know.”

  “Is there no other way out of it?”

  “Not that I can think of. Chin up, Lady Okerman, you can manage it.”

  She weakly smiled and then added her other hand to a hat that desperately wanted to fly off. “Might as well get it over with.”

  “Might as well.”

  Egan looked up from his book and watched them go inside. He remembered Lady Okerman’s visit to the MacGreagor castle well. At the time, Olivia was still the duchess and when she arrived, Maude Okerman was already enraged. An argument ensued, one he was happy to listen to with his ear to the door of the sitting room. To this day, he never said a word about what he heard to anyone, even his cousin, Dugan. There was no need, for soon after, Hannish found a way to rid himself of the duchess. Now, Egan wasn’t so sure he should have kept quiet about it. Lady Maude Okerman had the potential to cause more trouble for the MacGreagors than anyone else he could think of.

  CHAPTER 4

  In Glenartair castle’s study, six-year-old Addie climbed onto her father’s lap and pouted. “Mummy will not let me go to the ship to see Aunt Leesil.”

  “Ah, but I agree with Mummy,” Cameron said, playfully nuzzling her neck. He spent less time in this room than the others, but it was his uncle’s favorite room. A large table against the wall held rolled up maps of the world spanning some two hundred years. The oldest ones had been framed and hung on each of the walls. As well, mounted globes were scattered on smaller tables around the room. It was a fascination Cameron had also acquired, and he was about to unroll a newly received map when Addie came in.

  “Why?”

  Addie had her mother’s pointed nose and delicate features. As she grew, her eyes seemed to be even bluer, and her hair was clearly just as dark as her mother’s. “Because ‘tis too crowded for a wee babe.”

  “But I would tightly hold your hand. I promise.”

  “I am certain you would, but sadly you must stay home this time. Perhaps when you are older.” He chuckled when she folded her arms in a huff. “You shall have plenty of time to be with Aunt Leesil and Uncle Hannish. Dinna forget, cousin Justin is comin’ too.”

  “He’s a laddie,” she protested.

  “Laddies can play as well as lassies.”

  “What can they do?”

  “Well, he might be a wee bit too young to do…”

  When the door abruptly opened and Cathleen entered, Cameron set Addie on the floor and stood up. “We were just talkin’ about you.”

  Cathleen scooped the child up in her arms and hugged her. “Might I be allowed to speak to your father for a moment?”

  “Very well, Mummy, if you must.” As soon as Cathleen set her down, Addie ran for the door.

  Barely avoiding Addie in time, Alistair stepped out of the way, and watched her run down the hall. “You asked to see me, Your Grace?”

  Cameron didn’t pay particular attention to her when Cathleen turned her back to him and walked to the window. “Come in.” Cameron pointed to one of the maps on the wall. “The glass has cracked, will you see to a new one?”

  The butler walked to the map and examined it. “Where? I dinna see...”

  “‘Tis in the bottom corner,” Cameron said, crossing the room to point it out.

  At nineteen, Cathleen Covington MacGreagor, now the Duchess of Glenartair, was looking more and more like her sister Leesil every day. Her hair was a lighter auburn, but her eyes were just as blue. She was a few years younger and lacked Leesil’s dimples, which she deeply regretted when they were children, but she had gotten over that. “Cameron,” she said, abruptly turning around to face him, “I dread seeing anyone sent away, but I can bear it no longer. I must ask you to dismiss someone.”

  “What?” Cameron asked. His shy and unassuming wife had never demanded anything before, and he was taken aback. He glanced at his butler, but Alistair looked just as confused. “You are unhappy?”

  “Nay, not unhappy – miserable.”

  “Miserable?” he asked, finally going to her.

  “The servants hate me.”

  “They do not hate you,” Cameron tried.

  “They rarely smile and they bring me mutton when you are away?”

  “So that is it,” an astonished Alistair mumbled. “I shall see to this directly, Your Grace.”

  “As will I,” said Cameron, his temper rising.

  “Furthermore,” Cathleen went on, “the sweets are too tempting for Addie. If we must have them, let it not be all over the castle. And another thing…”

  Cameron finally had the good sense to put his arms around her. “What did the doctor say?”

  She was so upset, her body was rigid and an involuntary tear rolled down her cheek. “I so wished to tell you later.”

  “‘Tis good news?”

  “Aye, but if ‘tis triplets, I shall never forgive you.”

  Cameron chuckled, and continued to hold her until she finally relaxed. He kissed her cheek and at last, she melted into his arms. “Why did you not tell me about the mutton?”

  “I was a servant once, and I cannae think what would have become of me, had the mistress of the house sent me away.”

  “Aye, but you would never do such a thing to the mistress of the house.”

  She wiped the tear away with her fingers. “Nothing so bad as that, perhaps, but I am not above seeking a bit of revenge when ‘tis called for.”

  It was true. He couldn’t help but remember what Cathleen and Leesil cooked up to get the duchess to leave Colorado Springs the year before. “Tell me what else displeases you.”

  “Oh, Cameron, I do love you so, but there are things all over the castle…things the duchess preferred. Some are…well, they are unseemly for a family.”

  “Forgive me. I paid no attention to what she was about when she lived here. You are the duchess now, my very beloved duchess, and you may rid the place of anythin’ that displeases you. I am only sorry it took you these many months to tell me.” When he glanced back, Alistair was gone. “Shall you be alright for a moment? You know how Alistair adores you, and I fear by now he has torn up the kitchen and fired all our servants.”

  Cathleen giggled and patted his arm. “You best go, then.”

  “But first, you have made me so very happy.” He kissed her and held her in his arms for a long moment. “Promise you shall take care of yourself.” He waited until she nodded and then hurried out of the room.

  *

  Cameron was right. When he walked into the dining room, Alistair had a fierce look in his eyes. He had all the servants lined up, and he was about to give them a piece of his mind. Like the great hall, the dining room walls were originally made of stone and mortar, but Cameron had wood paneling added to keep in the warmth, hand-woven rugs to add more color, and better light fixtures since the two narrow windows let in scant light. At one end, a stage held a table where the duke and duchess could sit and see all their guests at once on special occasions. Otherwise, they occupied one end of a long table that ran down the middle of the room.

  Cameron slowly walked down the line of servants, paused in front of each and looked them in the eye. When he got to the end, he went back to stand next to Alistair, and then turned to face them, “My wife is unhappy and when she is unhappy – I am considerably more unhappy. Did I not say mutton is never to be served in this house?” All of them kept their eyes down. “Answer me?”

  “Aye,” all but Emily said at the same time.

  “Emily, I recall telling you specifically. You are to gather your things and Harold shall take you to the village.”

  Defiantly, Emily put her hands on her hips. “I have been with this family long before you came along. Your uncle brought me on as a kitchen ma
id years ago, and he promised never to turn me out.”

  Cameron moved a step closer and looked down at her unwavering glare. “He would have turned you out for this! Be gone, afore I do somethin’ I shall surely regret.”

  She should have been frightened of him, but she wasn’t. “You shall rue the day you have turned me out, Cameron MacGreagor.”

  His glare was hot and his fists were clenched when he asked, “Dare you threaten me?” He pointed to the door and shouted, “GO!” so loudly, it made all the other servants jump. Even so, Emily casually walked out of the dining hall. Cameron had to take a deep breath to calm down. Again, he sternly looked from face to face. “Did you not know she was doin’ it?”

  “We smelled it a time or two, but she never let us see,” Paul answered. “We thought she made it for herself.”

  “But one of you must have served Cathleen? Who is it?”

  There was no way to hide her guilt, so Carol took a small step forward. “I was forced to do it. Emily said she would make up lies and have me sent away if I told. Your Grace, I’ve a family countin’ on my wages, and…”

  “I see.” Cameron finally looked away and took another moment to compose himself. “Is there anythin’ else I should know?”

  “Well,” said Head Housekeeper Ruth, “we be short a cook now, and I am hungry.”

  At last, Cameron smiled. “So am I.”

  “Perhaps I can help,” Malveen said, standing in the doorway behind him.

  “Malveen, I am happy to see you. If you cook half so well as your housekeeper, we are indeed fortunate to have you.”

  “I’ll need a little help, but I can manage right enough,” Malveen assured him.

  “Then we’ll give it a go. My wife says sweets all over the house are too tempting for Addie, and she is right. See they are kept in the kitchen, save for one plate in my wife’s sittin’ room.” He turned to glare at the rest of his servants once more. “She is with child and I expect all of you to see she is kept healthy…and happy. Am I understood?”

  “Aye,” each of them answered.

  “You may go.”

  The servants were just going back to their duties, when Sarah entered the room with a basket of laundry in her arms. Born in America, Sarah fell head over heels in love with Alistair when they worked together at Marblestone, and she was thrilled to come to Scotland with her husband. She was also happy to serve as Cathleen’s lady’s maid. Unlike Scotland, not one of Marblestone’s servants found anything wanting in the delightful Cathleen. She was easy to please, outgoing, fun loving and a treasure to them all. “What is happening?” Sarah asked, setting the basket on the table.

  “Cathleen has been given mutton,” her husband answered.

  “Mutton?” Sarah gasped. “I have seen her throw up a time or two, but I thought it was…” She stopped and looked at Cameron, hoping she’d not given the secret away.

  “The baby?” Cameron asked.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “I am happy you know, finally.” Sarah shifted her eyes back and forth. “Her Grace never said a word about mutton, and I was certain she would tell me if something was wrong. To serve it to someone who watched orphans suffer such a painful and horrible deaths after eating spoiled mutton, is beyond cruel – it is heartless. Her Grace still cries when she remembers little Daniel.”

  Alistair put his arm around his wife to comfort her. “His Grace has dismissed Cook Emily.”

  “Good. Should I go to Her Grace?”

  “I shall go,” said Cameron. “Sarah, she wishes to get rid of all the things the duchess brought into the house. Will you help her?”

  “Of course. When Her Grace asks, Ruth tells her where everything came from. I did not guess it was upsetting her.”

  “In that case, Alistair, ask Ruth to gather everything that might possibly offend my wife, and send it to the church to sell for the poor. My brother and his wife need not be made to see them either.”

  “Aye, Your Grace.” As soon as Cameron was gone, Alistair released his wife, went to the narrow window and watched Harold bring the carriage around. Hopefully, the cook would leave without making a fuss, but if she did, he was ready to go out and settle it once and for all.

  When Sarah went to him, Alistair wrapped his arms around his wife. “Cathleen is with child finally?”

  Sarah laid her head on his strong shoulder. “She kept it from him as long as she could, so he would not fret over losing her the way he lost Flora. Cathleen is going into her fifth month and starting to show, or she would not have told him now.”

  “‘Tis why she no longer hugs me of a morning?”

  Sarah grinned and nodded. “Apparently, she thinks you are too observant.”

  “Do you know what she said the first time I hugged her?”

  “No, what?”

  “She said she never knew hugging a grown up could be so pleasant.”

  Sarah closed her eyes. “If it had not been so improved when we saw it, I would have burned that orphanage to the ground.”

  “I would have helped you.” Alistair watched a furious Emily toss her bag inside, board the carriage, and then watched the carriage pull away.

  “I am not sorry to see her go,” said Sarah.

  “Nor am I.” He turned them away from the window and walked her back to the table. “Our Cathleen thinks the servants hate her. Have you noticed anythin’?”

  “Only that they do not quite know how to take her. We had the good fortune of watching her grow up, and do not take her so seriously, but here she is taken at her word. It worries them and makes her uncomfortable.”

  “And Marblestone? Is she sorry she married and moved so far away?”

  Sarah kissed her husband’s cheek and then rested her head against the side of his neck. “If she is, I do not blame her. We both find the place too formal and she has not managed to make any friends. I miss Marblestone too. I miss Millie and Prescot, Shepard, Blanka, Dugan, Egan and…”

  He pulled back to look at her. “Did I not say? Egan is comin’ with Mr. Hannish.”

  “Oh good, Cathleen adores him and he will cheer us all up.” She left his arms and picked up her basket of laundry.

  “Does Cathleen still watch for the black horse?” Alistair asked, opening the door for her.

  “She does. Each morning, she walks over the river bridge hoping to see it again, but it has not come back.”

  *

  First used by the Dutch to pursue pirates into shallow waters, and later as entertainment for the rich and powerful, the small two-masted sailing vessel, carrying the duchess from England to Ireland, was not nearly as grand as the HMS Celtic. Yet, it was far more accommodating for a lady, than the cargo ship that took her from France to England after her arrest for bigamy.

  Not once in the days of her hotel room impound, had she stopped thinking of a way to escape, but that stupid little man with the beady eyes and ridiculous goatee kept constant watch over her. She was put in a carriage, bound and gagged, and whisked away to a deserted shore, where screaming would do no good. Even now, Mr. Sweeney, as Solicitor Crisp called him, stood on the deck only two feet away, ready to prevent her should she try to jump overboard. He need not have bothered. Still wearing her ball gown, which was all she owned, she considered jumping overboard, but the water looked cold and even if she survived the plunge, she was not fond of swimming.

  Nor was she fond of the salty sea air and the pesky seagulls that seemed unusually interested in pestering her. Each time one landed, she quickly shooed it away. Both reminded her of the Scottish island where she grew up, and made the fateful mistake of marrying too young. Nevertheless, her daring escape from that island exposed the full extent of the duchess’ audacity and determination. It was something she never forgot, and fell back on each time she needed to be free of her circumstances. If she could escape that, she could escape anything.

  So far, she had not found a way out of her present predicament.

  Liam, she guessed, was on the ship somewher
e, though she had not seen him since the night she was captured. It was just as well, she had not yet thought of an excuse for running off; one that he might actually believe. Since Mr. Sweeny had nothing to say, nor had the crew of six said a single word to her, the duchess was left with nothing to do, but watch the ship take her farther and farther from her beloved England.

  She remembered her first escape from Ireland well. She walked for miles and miles along the shore, in slippers that wore out quickly, and on rocks that cut her feet. She had stolen so many fine things, they soon became too heavy to carry. Instead of leaving them where they could be found, and her escape route discovered, she tossed several off a cliff into the water. Just now, she wondered if they were still there. She especially remembered a jeweled challis that looked quite old, and possibly was the most valuable. Unfortunately, it was the heaviest and she was forced to part with it.

  As the ship slowed and headed into a cove, Liam’s ghoulish castle came into view, with its brownstone towers, and high windows. The whole place was surrounded by thick, green forest. The truth be told, she longed to be a person of importance from the very beginning, but not in Ireland – in her beloved London. If she had been satisfied with Liam and his Irish society, she might have liked the excellent carvings, the impressive statues and the paintings in every room. She even liked Liam…a little.

  Now, she suspected, the highest tower of them all was about to become her permanent home.

  *

  In his opinion, Private Investigator Fletcher Garrott was just as good at his profession, as the Pinkerton men the Americans boasted of. There were a lot more of them, of course, but then the United States was easily ten times larger than the Kingdom. Just now, that was in his favor; finding one woman among millions was a challenge at best. From what little Solicitor Crisp told him, finding Alexandra Sinclair, aka, Olivia, Alice, and a host of other aliases, was as easy as finding men with titles and considerable money. Fletcher Garrott doubted it. At least he had a good place to start and ample expense money in his pocket.