Marblestone Mansion, Book 4 Page 5

  Cameron took her elbow and escorted Abigail back to her seat. “I fear there is no time for that, but you will come to the wedding, will you not? ‘Twill not be the same without you.”

  “Of course we shall. When is it?”

  “In less than a week,” Leesil answered, “and we have yet to ask the minister. I do hope he is not busy.”

  “You just leave that to me,” Abigail said. “He owes me more than one favor. He’ll be here, I assure you. You are having the wedding here…in the ballroom? Is Cameron wearing a short skirt?”

  Hannish laughed, “We call it a kilt in Scotland.”

  “Oh, a kilt, then. Is there time to bake a wedding cake, at least?”

  “There is,” Leesil answered. “Where might Claymore be?”

  “‘Tis a secret, but I will tell you anyway. He went to tidy up the place before his new secretary arrives.” Well aware of whom she was telling, she smiled at Moan. “Since you have hair the color of mine, I like you already. Now, tell me your names.”

  Her antics put a smile on each of their faces and Moan especially liked her. If her husband managed not to kill her spirit, Claymore Whitfield was just the kind of man he hoped to work for. Moan cleared his throat and introduced his family, while Abigail tasted the bacon and eggs she’d dished on her plate from the platters Shepard held.

  “Elizabeth, what a fine name,” Abigail began again. “I believe we shall have two and perhaps three Elizabeths in town now. Which reminds me, Cameron, our Mr. Goodwin has recovered most of his sight. Cameron did tell you about our forest fire, did he not?”

  “We passed the Black Forest on the train coming into town,” Elizabeth answered.

  “Of course you did, how could you not? The tracks run right by it. They buried Wesley Bennet, and not a soul showed up for the funeral, except the man who identified him. The sheriff is still convinced he was part of that gang of train robbers, and...”

  Young Mr. Wade’s eyes lit up. “Train robbers? You got train robbers here?”

  “Wade wants to be a sheriff,” Leesil put in.

  “A sheriff? How glorious,” Abigail said. “In that case, I expect you to keep a sharp eye out for the train robbers. Will you do it?” She smiled when Wade vigorously nodded. “My Charles wanted to be Sheriff when he was your age. My, but that was a long time ago.”

  “Have you heard from him?” Leesil asked.

  “Oh yes, he writes regularly. Claymore refuses to let him call from England anymore, Charles having awakened us in the night one to many times. I swear the boy shall never learn night from day. Charles has taken a position in an English pub, if you can believe it, and says he is well.”

  “I am happy to hear that,” said Leesil.

  “Not as happy as Claymore. He thought Charles would not see a day of work in his entire lifetime.” She paused just long enough to look Cameron in the eye. “Perhaps Cameron and Cathleen might look in on Charles from time to time.”

  Cameron nodded. “Give me his address and I shall do my best. Scotland is not as close to England as you might imagine, but I do travel that direction occasionally.”

  “I shall write the directions before I leave. You know, Charles stays in England hoping he shall find that miserable woman he calls his wife.”

  The last thing Leesil wanted to talk about at the breakfast table was the duchess, so she hoped to change the subject. “Abigail, what news is there of Loretta Collins? Has the druggist asked her to marry him yet?”

  “He has not, much to her chagrin. What he could possibly be waiting for is beyond me. Did I tell you the cantaloupe are ripe, finally,” Abigail continued. “Of all the fruits, I love cantaloupe the best. When I am in town, I mean to see how the building of your warehouse is coming, Hannish. I understand you already have the roof on. By the way…”

  It was another fifteen minutes before Abigail ran out of things to say and finished her cold breakfast. She didn’t mind, these were her MacGreagors, the finest family in the whole world…save hers.

  *

  The air outside was just a bit more chilly than the day before, but when Cameron asked Cathleen to take a walk with him, she didn’t hesitate. He helped her put on a warm coat and then suggested they go to the backyard, where they could see the mountains. He nodded his appreciation when Brookton opened the back door for them, and then took her hand as they walked halfway across the lawn.

  “I never tire of seeing Pikes Peak,” said Cathleen. “Are there any mountains near your home?”

  “Our home. Scotland has splendid mountains, but I fear we must travel a piece to see them.”

  “Will you take me? I hope to see as much of Scotland as possible.”

  “I shall take you wherever you want to go.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed his bride-to-be. “Are you warm enough? Should I take you back in?”

  “I would rather be here, looking at the mountains with you.”

  He smiled and as she turned to look at the mountains, he put his arms around her from behind to keep her warm. “Cathleen, I need your advice.”

  “About what?”

  “Abigail asked us to make the acquaintance of her son, Charles. Do you know him?”

  “I have seen him a time or two, but he never comes when Abigail and Claymore visit. They bring Gloria occasionally.”

  “Gloria?”

  “Their daughter. She is a bit standoffish, but I suspect ‘tis because Marblestone has no residents her age. Perhaps now that Janna and Mary are here, Gloria will be less indifferent. Why are you askin’ about Charles?”

  “He married the duchess, you know.”

  “I know, but she ran off and left him in St. Louis. Hannish says there is little danger he will find her in England.”

  “‘Tis not the duchess that concerns me, ‘tis Blair. Charles is sure to see Blair’s likeness to her mother.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Perhaps I was wrong in thinking I could hide Blair from the duchess.”

  “I doubt we can hide her forever, but hopefully we can until she is old enough to understand what happened.”

  “And when she is old enough, what will we tell her?” Cameron asked.

  “The truth. Her mother deserted her, her stepmother refused to keep her after Mr. Sinclair died, and you desperately wanted her. I see no other way.”

  “Nor do I. At least now, she will have a mother who truly loves her.”

  Cathleen turned to face him. “I cannae wait to hold her in my arms again. I have missed her so.”

  “She misses you too. I bought her a little tea set and she pretends to have tea with you of an afternoon. Now, she will no longer have to pretend.”

  “I wish to hug her for at least an hour when we arrive.”

  “If she will let you. Blair is constantly running to and fro. She keeps all of us quite busy.”

  “Even Alistair?”

  “Our prim and proper butler? She loves him best, I believe.”

  “How could she not?”

  Cameron lightly kissed her and then held Cathleen close. “There is yet another problem. I am a duke, I should have announced my adopting a child before now, but I dinna want her name in the papers. Our society already gossips about her, I imagine.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “I am hoping you can help me decide what to do.”

  “I can think of nothing this moment, but I shall give it considerable thought.”

  “Will you also think what to do about Charles Whitfield?”

  “Aye, that too.” Cathleen snuggled a little closer. “Just now, all I can think of is being your wife.”

  He smiled, kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes to savor the feel of her in his arms at last.

  *

  Paulette was excited to go shopping with Cathleen and as soon as Egan stopped the new black carriage on Main Street, she excitedly got out to have a look around. Instead of the more flamboyant hats women preferred in spring and summer, Paulette had on a simple gray one with
green trim, and a matching long gray coat buttoned at the collar. She wore her reddish-blonde hair down for warmth and her eyes sparkled as Cathleen pointed out the various shops.

  The town was just as Cameron described it, with decorative storefronts, a barber pole, a soda shop, and the general mercantile on one side of the wide avenue. The other side of Main Street appeared to be mostly office buildings, one of which was the courthouse and the sheriff’s office.

  Cathleen assumed Paulette would follow when she headed for the hat shop, but Paulette spotted a crowd gathered on the corner and went to see what was going on. To her delight, she discovered a puppet show. Shorter in stature than most, she inched her way closer to the front, but not soon enough to catch more than the last few minutes of the show.

  It was not until the crowd began to disperse that she realized she had lost track of Cathleen. She looked both up and down the street and then for the carriage, but there were several black ones and she couldn’t tell which was the MacGreagor carriage. A moment later, she thought she spotted the back of Cathleen’s coat disappear through a doorway on the opposite side of the busy street, and started across.

  Paulette suddenly froze.

  A team of runaway horses, pulling a bouncing driverless buggy was headed straight for her. She heard a man shout and a woman scream, but the horses erratically moved from one side of the street to the other and she didn’t know which way to run.

  Another woman screamed, two more men shouted, and just in time, an arm went around Paulette’s waist and pulled her to the side of the street. The horses sped past, the swerving buggy missed her by inches and before she knew it, she was surrounded by concerned people, all muttering how lucky she was to be alive.

  Cathleen pushed her way through the crowd and took hold of her terrified cousin’s arm. “Paulette, are you hurt?”

  The man still had not let go of her and Paulette was grateful. Her whole body trembled, tears rolled down her cheek and she couldn’t seem to draw in enough air. At last, she shook her head. “Nay, I am not hurt.”

  “Thank heavens,” Cathleen said as the crowd drifted away. When she saw the tears, she reached in her coat pocket and handed Paulette her handkerchief. “There, there, you have had quite a fright. It shall pass in a moment.” She glanced at the man holding her cousin and smiled.

  “Mr. Douglas Swinton, may I introduce my cousin, Miss Paulette MacGreagor from London, England. She has only just arrived.”

  He released her finally, and as soon as Paulette turned around, he tipped his hat. “Miss MacGreagor, it is a pleasure.”

  Paulette was taken aback by his light blond hair and handsome face, just as every woman in town had been when they first saw him. Embarrassed, she quickly wiped her tears away. “Thank you, Mr. Swinton, you saved me.” He was smartly dressed in brown trousers, a white shirt, a rounded top hat and a charcoal cape. Over his arm, he carried a gun cane with a carved wooden figure on the end.

  “I was happy to oblige. Tell me, are you here to stay?”

  “I am. My father is to be secretary to Mr. Whitfield,” Paulette answered.

  “Ah, I see. Then we shall meet again, Miss MacGreagor. And you, Miss Covington, how are you this fine day?”

  It was perhaps like rubbing salt in a wound, since Mr. Swinton did his best to court Cathleen, but she said it anyway. “I am very well. In fact, I am splendid. Mr. Cameron MacGreagor has asked me to marry him and I have accepted.” She caught just a glimmer of a glare before he smiled.

  “He is a most fortunate man, Miss Covington. I wish you well, very well indeed.” He tipped his hat a second time, nodded to Cathleen and walked away.

  “Great glory, are all American’s that handsome?” Paulette whispered.

  “Hardly.” Cathleen slipped her arm around her cousin’s so Paulette wouldn’t get lost again. “Mr. Swinton has more than his share of admirers, as you can well imagine.”

  “He is unmarried?”

  “Indeed he is, although he would rather not be, I gather.” She guided Paulette into the general store, let go of her arm and went to find a white ribbon to wear in her hair on her wedding day. When she looked, Paulette was standing in the window watching Mr. Swinton talk to Pearl and Loretta on the sidewalk outside. Cathleen quickly made her purchases and followed Paulette out the door.

  “I was hoping to see my dear friends in town today,” Cathleen said to Pearl and Loretta. “Miss Pearl Hughes and Miss Loretta Collins, may I present my cousin, Miss Paulette MacGreagor.”

  “Your cousin?” Pearl asked.

  “By marriage, naturally,” Cathleen admitted. “Two marriages, that is.” She removed her glove and let them see her engagement ring.

  “Are you not the sly one?” Loretta teased. “We heard the duke was in town.”

  Cathleen leaned closer to Paulette. “Did I not tell you news travels fast in Colorado Springs?”

  “Aye, you did,” said Paulette. When she looked, Mr. Swinton was smiling at her and it made her blush. Too soon, he tipped his hat, made his excuses and went on his way.

  Cathleen told Pearl and Loretta all about the upcoming wedding, invited them both, gushed over how happy she was, and then remembered she was to buy a new hat. “We best go; we’ve a million things to do.”

  As soon as they were down the street, Cathleen said, “Pearl certainly took that well.”

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Paulette asked, going in after Cathleen opened the door to the hat shop.

  “I believe she favors Cameron.”

  “Do you? I think she favors Mr. Swinton.”

  “So does every other lass in town. The one who marries that one will have her hands full keeping all the others away.”

  CHAPTER 4

  In the Canon City prison for women, the duchess began her charm school lessons by showing her fellow inmates how to sit up straight in a chair. Only Bertha, Sweet Suzie, Carrie and Eula, a shy little thing not more than eighteen, followed her example. The others seemed content just to watch.

  “Fold your hands in your lap, like this,” the duchess said.

  Bertha raised one hand high in the air, brought it down hard and slapped the one she had in her lap, which brought roars of laughter from the other women.

  It was all she could do to keep her composure, but the duchess laughed with them. “Now, you may cross your feet at the ankle, but never cross your legs at the knees.”

  “Why not?” asked Bertha. “I like crossing them at the knees.” In defiance, she hiked up her skirt, crossed her bare knees and exhibited her worn through leggings and scruffy high-top shoes.

  “Because a woman does, but a lady does not…not while there are gentlemen in the room,” the duchess corrected. When she looked, both Sweet Suzie and Eula had their hands positioned right and their feet crossed at the ankles. “Very good, ladies. Now…”

  “Yes, ladies, very good,” Bertha mocked.

  In the past, the duchess would have ripped Bertha’s eyes out by now, and she had to sternly remind herself why she was doing this. She slowly closed her eyes and gathered her wits. “Bertha, I know there is a lady somewhere in there, might you let her come out now? Just while we are practicing, I mean.”

  Bertha uncrossed her legs and put her skirt back down. “As long as I do not become as prissy as you.”

  “I am not prissy,” the duchess shot back.

  Bertha’s eyes became narrow slits as if daring the duchess to argue. “You are too!”

  The duchess stared her for a moment, blinked several times and decided simply to continue. “Now…”

  “This is very uncomfortable,” Eula whined.

  “I suppose it is at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

  “I doubt it,” said Sweet Suzie. “My back hurts already.”

  “Yes, but your bosom looks fuller that way,” the duchess pointed out. In unison, all three women looked at their chests.

  “She is right,” Eula muttered.

  “Of course I am right. When you go out of an
evening, you shall have a handkerchief in your hand, and when the opportunity arises, you shall accidently drop it on the floor.”

  “So some poor sop will pick it up?” Bertha asked.

  “Eventually, but you must be very quick to lean forward as though you mean to pick it up yourself. Once he stoops to get it for you, you must be very slow to sit up straight.”

  Bertha wrinkled her brow. “So he can see down your blouse?”

  “Precisely. The lower the cut of the gown, the more he can see.”

  “This is getting good,” Bertha said in a sudden change of attitude. “Show us how.”

  The duchess pretended to scoot a kerchief off her lap, discover it and then leaned forward to pick it up. She looked up at the pretend handsome man in front of her, smiled and slowly sat upright again.

  “Like this?” Sweet Suzie asked, copying the duchess’ movements.

  “Exactly. Once a man has a woman’s bosom on his mind,” the duchess explained, “he tends not to care about her age, her figure or even her face.”

  Eula looked down at her chest again and loudly moaned. “I doubt that would do me much good, I’ve not got much for him to see.”

  “In that case, you must buy the right kind of corset. There are ways for a woman to make herself look more…appealing, with the help of a bit of padding in her corset.” The duchess took a moment to glare at one of the guards. “I could show you, if we were allowed to wear corsets.” The guard shook her head.

  The duchess ignored her and went on. “Tomorrow, I shall teach you how to walk properly. Then how to eat and what not to say.”

  “And more ways to show our bosom?” Bertha asked.

  “If you like.” Of course, the duchess could teach them her favorite trick, the one that always garnered a marriage proposal, but some secrets were better left unshared.

  Sweet Suzie, a lady of the evening who normally just took her clothes off, was beginning to see the beauty of the charm lessons. What she wanted more than anything was to have a husband, complete with a warm home and perhaps a family someday. Therefore, she was determined to consume everything Ethel had to teach.