Marblestone Mansion, Book 2 Page 5

“Charles has not said that either, but he does say the solicitor will not help until he is paid. Claymore is not inclined to pay for a woman who has committed bigamy. He demands Charles let the woman fend for herself, but Charles will not. He loves her, I think.”

  Cathleen asked, “How old is your son, Mrs. Whitfield? I have yet to meet him.”

  “Twenty-one. We would not have sent him off to Paris, but we thought the time away would help him…grow up a bit. Now he refuses to come home. I simply do not know what to do.” Abigail barely paused long enough to take a breath. “Tell me, Cathleen, what became of Mr. MacGreagor’s first wife?”

  Cathleen glanced at McKenna and then leaned forward. She waited until Abigail leaned forward as well, and almost giggled at the sight. “‘Tis a deep dark secret, but I ‘spect tellin’ you be right enough. The duchess is buried beneath the bushes in the rose garden.”

  Abigail rolled her eyes. “She is not! Mr. Merth is the station master and he saw her get on the train that day, with your butler and one of the footmen.”

  Cathleen grinned. “I see I cannae fool you, Mrs. Whitfield. Leesil and me was always threatenin’ to bury Old Mrs. Forthright in the garden, only we wasn’t brave enough to kill her.”

  “From what I’ve heard,” Loretta said, “she deserved killing.”

  “That be the truth of it. Once, when we were small, we hid from her a whole day long. Only we got hungry and had to come out. James, that be our friend…”

  Cathleen was a clever girl and she’d just managed to smartly change the subject, much to McKenna’s relief. She tried not to be, but McKenna was worried. Even locked away, the duchess could still be the undoing of both Colorado Springs families. Abigail was not the only one wanting to know what happened to her brother’s first wife. Gossip could often be brutal in small towns and this one was no exception.

  *

  McKenna, Cathleen and the servants were lined up outside Marblestone Mansion, when the red carriage brought the master of the house and his bride home. They were a handsome couple, he a strikingly large man with dark hair and bright blue eyes, dressed in a dark suit and a tall, round hat. She wore her new green traveling dress with a matching wide-rimmed hat adorned with colorful cloth flowers. Leesil had auburn curls and when she smiled, her dimples sunk deep in her cheeks.

  As soon as Hannish helped her out of the carriage, Leesil headed straight for her sister and hugged her tight. “Look at you, Cathleen, you have grown up, I think.”

  “Aye, and I’ll be havin’ no nonsense from you,” Cathleen teased.

  Leesil put her hands on her hips. “Or I you.” She giggled and then stepped down the line to hug McKenna.

  “How was your trip?” McKenna asked.

  “It was glorious. I have so much to tell you both.”

  The newlyweds happily greeted each of the servants, and then Hannish nodded for Alistair to open the front door. To the cheers of the staff, he leaned down, picked up his bride and carried her over the threshold of her home. Then he kissed her passionately and set her down in the marble foyer.

  Suddenly, Traitor raced around the corner and began jumping up and down. “I have gained your favor again, have I?” Hannish asked, rubbing the excited dog behind the ears. “And what will Blanka say to that?” He took Leesil’s hand and walked her into the expansive parlor. “Do you wish to rest before dinner?”

  “I am too excited to rest, but you wish to tend your business. Off with you, I shall see you at dinner.” She quickly kissed him, grabbed her sister’s hand and started up the stairs. “Did they give you the pink room?”

  “Aye, and new clothes. Miss…I mean McKenna says I may go shopping tomorrow and…”

  McKenna and Hannish watched until the sisters went out of sight. McKenna hugged her brother and walked with him across the parlor to his study. “I am happy to have you home.”

  “I am happy to be home. What news is there?” Hannish asked.

  “Keith has left us, but we expected that. He has secured a position with the banker and his wife.”

  “I am pleased to hear it. And what mischief have you been up?”

  “None that I will confess. Cameron sent a cablegram yesterday to say they were safely in New York, where they intend to rest for a few days before they board the ship. He fears their travels will be a bit much for his pregnant wife.”

  “He might be right. I tried to convince my brother to stay, but his business draws him back to Scotland.” Hannish waited for Footman Shepard to open the study door and then followed McKenna in. “I even offered to move his business, but he said he would not like putting his lads out of work. I suspect he likes being a duke.”

  “I think he does too. At least they will come back next year after the baby is born.” She watched him walk to his roll-top desk and pick up the mail, and then she looked back to make certain the door was closed. “Brother, Abigail told the Orphanage Committee that Charles is in London helpin’ a woman who has been arrested for bigamy. He calls repeatedly askin’ for the money to pay her solicitor. Abigail is certain Charles has not married her, but he refuses to come home. ‘Tis the talk of the town these days.”

  “Well, never have we known Abigail to keep a secret. Does she suspect anythin’?”

  “I am sure not, but she keeps asking what became of the duchess and I have run out of things to say. It becomes more and more impossible to avoid her questions.”

  Hannish started looking through the mail, glanced at the seriousness on his sister’s face and set the mail back on his desk. “For their sake, we agreed not to tell Abigail and Claymore the truth. Are you suggestin’ we tell them just to satisfy Abigail’s curiosity?”

  “I dinna know what I am suggestin’. If the duchess goes to prison, Charles will forget her and Abigail and Claymore need never know.”

  “Unless Charles has married her.”

  “Precisely. How can we tell them their son married your wife, a lass they are well aware is vicious enough to harm others?”

  “And starve them when there is money to be had.” Hannish rubbed the back of his neck as he always did when he was troubled. “I should have waited to marry, I see, until this business with the duchess was resolved.”

  “We thought it was resolved.”

  “What does Charles tell his parents?”

  “Only that he needs money.”

  “Then there can be no doubt he has married her,” said Hannish.

  “‘Tis what I think too, and brother, what will we do if he manages to get her out of jail and brings her home?”

  “We shall have to tell them. I’ll not let her hurt Abigail or her daughter. Claymore would never forgive me for it, nor would I forgive myself.”

  McKenna was about to leave when she remembered something. “Oh, there is a request coming and I do hope you will grant it.”

  “What?”

  “Alistair and Sarah want to marry, but they have no place to live. Town will not do in winter and…”

  “And there is little privacy on the third floor. What do you suggest?”

  “Two new cottages in the back.”

  Hannish’s eyes lit up. “For both butlers and their brides? ‘Tis a bit late in the year to start, but I can think of nothin’ more exciting than buildin’ cottages.”

  “I thought you might like the idea.”

  “Tell the first servant you find to have Alistair and Prescot come see me. Prescot helped me build this place and he loves buildin’ as much as I. First, we will need…”

  “Brother stop.” McKenna kissed him on the cheek. “I shall go get them, so you can talk to someone who understands all about this buildin’ love of yours.”

  *

  They were giggling when Leesil and Cathleen walked into the kitchen and sat down at the servant’s table, one on each side of cook Jessie. “Have you a crumb for a hungry Scot?” Leesil asked.

  Cook Halen grinned. “Glory be, our sweet little Sassy has come home.” She spread a cloth over her bowl of bread doug
h and went to wash her hands in the tall metal sink.

  “I missed all of you so very much. My husband got quite out of hand, I dinna mind sayin’. Each time I stopped to look at something’ in a shop window, he bought it for me. I feared we would come home paupers.”

  Halen laughed. “What would you like to eat, Mrs. MacGreagor?”

  “Mrs. MacGreagor, how fine that sounds. I wonder if I shall ever get on with it.” When Lillian entered the room with a look of disapproval on her face, Leesil’s smile faded. “What?”

  “I am surprised, is all…to find you here, Mrs. MacGreagor.”

  “Why?” Leesil asked.

  Lillian glanced at Jessie and then at Halen. She was not sure she should answer, but decided she had no choice. “It is just that in other great houses, the servant’s kitchen is…well, just for the servants.”

  Jessie was appalled. “‘Tis her house, and she can be wherever she wants to be.”

  Cook Halen was just as upset. “Have you finished the wash yet, Lillian? If so, you best ask Sarah what more needs to be done.” She wanted to strangle the girl, and was glad to see her quickly walk away. “Mrs. MacGreagor, I shall tell Alistair and…”

  “Nay, Halen, dinna tell anyone, ‘twill upset Hannish. Lillian will get on with it once she gets to know us better.”

  Jessie rolled her eyes. “Lillian is trouble. She already has her nose in everyone’s business, and she’s been here less than a week.”

  Cathleen’s eyes widened. “I wager Lillian is a spy, just like in the book I’m readin’.”

  Leesil giggled. “Not a very good spy, if we are on to her already.”

  “Just the same,” said Cathleen, ‘tis up to us to find out who set her upon us.”

  Halen rolled her eyes. “That should keep the two of you out of trouble for a while.”

  *

  The day after the newlyweds got home, the building preparations began. With Shepard manning the front door, Hannish and his butlers poured over the drawings for the two cottages already built in the back. With a few revisions, that design would do nicely and it was decided a groundbreaking celebration was in order.

  That evening, the whole household watched as the butlers took their brides-to-be to the edge of the backyard. They chose the best locations, not too close to each other and not too far away, and each butler turned over the first shovel full of dirt to mark the spots. They were proud, the brides were excited and everyone toasted the couples with wine brought up from the wine cellar.

  All except Lillian who refused the glass Egan tried to hand to her. “Mr. Palmer does not allow sprits in this county.” The moment might have passed more unnoticed, had she not said it in such a way as to cast shame on the rest of them.

  It was the first time Hannish noticed Lillian, and while he was not pleased, he thought he probably mistook her meaning. “Mr. Palmer shall never know.” He quickly turned his attention to his butlers. “Gentlemen, a toast. May you live long, happy lives with wives I doubt you deserve.”

  “Here, here,” said the gathering.

  Hannish noticed when Lillian went back in the house, but he promptly forgot about her. Nothing was going to cast a shadow on this celebration.

  *

  The next day, he sent Prescot to post a “help wanted” notice in town, while he began to place orders. In the days that followed, rocks were hauled in from the Red Rock Canyon Quarry. Lumber cut on the back side of Pike’s Peak came from a Teller county lumber mill, and from other suppliers came bags of cement, nails, tools and plaster. Soon, several able-bodied men had signed up and the building began.

  Meanwhile, there were peaches and apples to can, dried beans to store and two weddings to plan, which kept all the women and some of the footmen just as busy as the builders.

  *

  Leesil and Cathleen mockingly tiptoed halfway down the hall on the second floor and then stopped. “Where do you think she is this mornin’. Inspector Cathleen?” Leesil quietly asked.

  Cathleen whispered, “The green room, Inspector Leesil.”

  “The green room? Doin’ what, pray tell?”

  “Cleanin’, or so she wishes us to believe.”

  Leesil drew back in horror. “A housekeeper…cleanin’, whoever heard of such a thing?”

  “‘Tis a trick to be sure.”

  “Inspector Cathleen, I say we catch her in the act.”

  “The act of what?” Cathleen asked.

  “Spyin’, of course.” Again tiptoeing, Leesil led the way down the rest of the hallway, turned the corner and abruptly stopped. “Which is the green room again?”

  “The one next to McKenna’s room.”

  “I see. We best make certain the spy has not put a hole in the wall to peek through.”

  “‘Tis just what a spy would do.”

  “And cover the hole with a picture?”

  “Precisely.”

  Leesil started down the hall once more and again abruptly stopped. “Yet, if she has done it, and we know that trick, she is not a very shrewd spy. You don’t suppose Scotland Yard sent their worst to spy on us, do you?”

  “Why not? Every spy must have a first assignment, and what better place than one with nothin’ to hide?” When one of the bedroom doors opened, Cathleen caught her breath. Pretending to be having a normal conversation, she giggled and said, “Sister, how long before they discover we have never ridden a horse?”

  Leesil moved aside and let an expressionless Lillian pass. “It is quite cruel of us not to tell them, I suppose.” She watched Lillian open the door to the backstairs and then disappear. “She was in the red room.”

  “Aye, and just as we suspected, she carries a pail of water and a feather duster to make us think she is cleanin’. We best go look for holes in the walls. You never know when we might keep an important guest or two in the red room.” Cathleen opened the door to the red room, ushered her sister in, looked both ways down the hall to make sure no one had seen them, and then closed the door.

  Just as all the guest bedrooms were, the red room was decorated using the color of its name, yet not so much red as to make it look gaudy. Red pillows adorned a white settee, with more pillows on the white bedspread, although the gold and red pattern on the wallpaper was a bit much. Leesil lifted a picture and carefully looked for holes in the wall, while Cathleen ran her finger across a nightstand to see if it had indeed been cleaned.

  “She is ingenious,” said Cathleen, “I do believe she has actually dusted!”

  “I am not surprised. Spies are very good at making us think they are not spies. I wonder what she hopes to find.”

  “I wonder if we are not wrong about her.”

  Leesil sat down on the bed and watched her sister walk to the window. “Wrong? Sister, we are never wrong.”

  “Aye, but why would Scotland Yard care what we are up to? We are not even in Scotland. Nay, I think someone else sent her.”

  “You dinna mean…the evil duchess?”

  “Nay, not her, we have seen the last of that one, for sure. Did Charlotte Wells not go with her brother to Denver? And did Lillian not come from Denver?”

  Leesil’s eyes widened. “Inspector Cathleen, you are right, very right indeed. Charlotte Wells would like nothin’ more than to send someone to vex us.”

  “We must tell the cooks not to make any more pies, for fear Charlotte comes back and gets her hands on one of them.”

  “So true, sister. The last one she threw at me was made of blueberries and I’d not like wearin’ that fruit again. Do you suppose Charlotte still prefers my husband?”

  “Why not, he is a very handsome lad.”

  “I think so too.” Leesil got up and joined her sister at the window. “I’ll not give him up, you know. I love Hannish more each day.”

  Cathleen sighed. “Why could he not have a brother as young as me?”

  *

  Each night before she went to bed, McKenna looked for the black stallion, but he did not come back and each morning she
worried that the despicable stranger had managed to capture him.

  It was not often McKenna went to town, and she had several places in mind to visit when she and Cathleen got into the carriage. She had completely exhausted all the books in the limited MacGreagor library, so when Maude Goodwin offered to lend some of hers, McKenna was delighted.

  Carl was a careful driver who managed the team of horses well, allowing for an uneventful ride down the winding dirt road to town. Yet, McKenna was far more interested in watching out the window for the black Stallion.

  “Carl is very handsome,” Cathleen said.

  “You fancy him?”

  “Him and a few others.”

  McKenna smiled. “I remember those days. At fifteen, I loved no less than a dozen lads.”

  “One at a time, or all together?”

  “I believe I changed my mind daily.”

  Cathleen giggled. “So do I.”

  “Well, for your sake, see that the one you love is not lazy. A lazy lad…” There he was again -- the stranger who tried to catch the black stallion. He stood on the side of the street just as they entered town, and he was looking right at her. The sight of him made McKenna draw in a sharp breath and quickly look away. “Dreadful lad.”

  “Who?”

  “It matters not. Tell me, what sort of lad do you hope to marry?”

  “He must be handsome, naturally, and…”

  It was early in the morning when the MacGreagor carriage turned down Main Street, yet the town bustled with activity. People were doing what needed to be done, before the heat of the day was upon them. The milkman was just coming back from his early morning deliveries, and empty bottles clinked in the back of his short, enclosed white wagon with big red wheels. The one and only newspaperman raced down the sidewalk and dashed into his shop, no doubt with the latest tidbit everyone would read about the next day. As they passed, Sheriff Thompson stood in front of his courthouse office paying unusual attention to them, but McKenna thought nothing of it. He was probably just bored and dreading the coming heat like everyone else.

  Their first stop was at the general store, where McKenna instructed the storekeeper to put whatever Cathleen wanted on her brother’s bill. She handed him a list of other supplies, and then left Cathleen there to shop while she got back in the carriage and went to visit Maude Goodwin.