Marblestone Mansion, Book 1 (Scandalous Duchess Series, #1) Page 7

  “And this is why you do not get on with my wife?”

  “She kept inviting him to the house, so I moved away. It dinna help; he still managed to appear regularly.”

  “So you fled to America to relieve yourself of him?”

  “Nay, I came to see you.”

  “And to rid yourself of him.”

  “Oh, Hannish, how is it I manage to attract the wrong sort of man? I want to marry, but I want a man I care to look at first thing in the morning.”

  “Do not fret; we will see many an unmarried man come to call soon.”

  She giggled, “So long as his name is not Charles.”

  “Indeed.” He decided he had already read that paper and folded it back up. “Sister, how old do you think Sassy is?”

  “I am not certain, why do you ask?”

  “Keith seems very attentive to her lately.”

  “He is not the only one. She is admired by Shepard and Dugan as well. I confess I quite enjoy watching all three of them vying for her attention.”

  “What does Sassy say about it?”

  McKenna put one paper on the table and reached for another. “She ignores them if she can, which is a bit odd since most girls her age are smitten with every lad she sees. What worries you?”

  “She seems so very innocent, and having been raised in an orphanage, I wonder if she can possibly know the ways of men. Suppose she is too easily convinced?”

  “I see your meaning. You wish me to have a motherly talk with her.”

  “Would you? I would hate to see any harm come to her, particularly under my very own roof.”

  “You are right, I will talk to her. Did you cablegram Cameron? I do hope he managed to rescue Sassy’s sister.”

  “I did, and the moment we have telephones, I will call him. It is very rewarding to do something that will make others happy.”

  McKenna studied his face for a moment. “You look tired. Are you not sleeping?”

  “I try, but there is much to consider.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “Nay, there is nothing.” He picked up another paper, one he had not yet seen and began to read it.

  “Shall we visit the Whitfields tomorrow?” she asked at length.

  “The day after would suit me better. I shall send Shepard to give them fair warning.”

  “Good.”

  *

  McKenna was not looking forward to her delicate discussion with Sassy. Not having been married herself, she was not quite certain what to say and only had Donnel’s words of caution to fall back on. Nevertheless, she left her writing desk, rang the bell, and waited for Sassy to come.

  “Sit down, dear, I wish to speak to you about something.”

  “Have I done wrong?”

  “Not at all.” McKenna waited until Sassy was settled in one of the new chairs chosen especially for that room. “I was wondering...I mean, since you were raised in an orphanage...I wonder if you might know where babies come from.”

  “Mostly through the front door.”

  McKenna smiled. “I do not mean that, I mean...”

  “Oh, you mean how are they made? I am surprised no one has told you yet. Shall I explain it?”

  “Please.”

  “You see, we got more girl babies than boys, but there is a difference...in how they are.”

  “I do know that much.”

  “Good. Now with a boy baby, one must always see that...that part is covered with a cloth in the changin’, or you get mighty wet.”

  “That, I did not know. My brothers are older, you see.”

  “I learned the hard way and more than once.” Sassy stood up, walked to the window, and tried to choose her words carefully. “You see, a boy and a girl, rather a lad and a lass...on their wedding night, of course, sleep in the same bed.”

  “My parents always did, although in some societies, they have separate bedrooms.”

  Sassy turned around to face her. “Miss McKenna, please do not interrupt. We are getting to the important part.”

  “Forgive me, Sassy.”

  “James told me all about it, although he would not confess how he heard it. I threatened to kick him, but still he would not say. Never mind all that, though. He said, and this is very important, that a girl must never let a boy...or...or rather a lass must never let a lad touch her, you know, in that way until the wedding night. That is how babies are made.”

  “I see. So you have never...”

  “Of course not! James said I must be saved for my husband, or he will not love me the way a husband should.”

  “I believe James is right. Thank you, Sassy, I understand now.”

  “How do you suppose he knew that, Miss McKenna? He come to the orphanage just a year or two after me.”

  “Well, I think whoever told him was very wise.”

  “I think so too.” Sassy went to the table and picked up McKenna’s used tea tray. “Shall I bring fresh?”

  “Would you?”

  “Aye, Miss.” Sassy carried the tray out the door, turned down the hall, and couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

  *

  While the MacGreagors planned to wait a day, Abigail Whitfield had other ideas and came by carriage to call at Marblestone Mansion, just in time for afternoon tea. To everyone’s relief, she did not bring her son, but she did bring her daughter, Gloria. Gloria was a bit more round than her mother was at the uncomfortable and awkward age of twelve, had a habit of twisting her hair and seemed a little shy and unfriendly. Prescot notified McKenna, and when she was ready, led her guests up the stairs to the second floor sitting room.

  McKenna was about to ring the bell for tea when Abigail said, “My dear, it is about to rain and we must not stay, but I came to see how you are. It is just as I suspected, you do look a little peaked,” said Abigail. She failed to notice the perplexed expression on McKenna’s face and instead of sitting down, she went to the window to admire the view of town. “It is altitude sickness and I should have mentioned that before. There is little you can do but wait it out.”

  McKenna was afraid to ask, but it was the polite thing to do. “How is everyone?”

  “My husband and my son are well, although Charles seems a bit restless. He’s been in a fight again, but I hear he had it coming.” Abigail quickly sat down and leaned forward. “Have you heard? Mrs. Wilcox is expecting again and it is her twelfth.”

  “Twelfth? My heavens, she is truly blessed.”

  “Blessed? I thought two children were quite enough. Twelve would make me take leave of my senses. Charles was a sickly child, you see, and required nearly all my attention. My, but you do look peaked. When you are feeling better, do attend our quilting parties.”

  “I do not know how to quilt.”

  “We will teach you. We make quilts for the poor, you see.” Abigail got up and went back to the window. “Oh dear, it begins to rain and here comes a telegram rider. Come Gloria.” With her daughter right behind her, Abigail hurried down the stairs and was out the door as quickly as she came.

  As soon as she was gone, McKenna took a relieved breath. Apparently, Abigail knew all about her son’s behavior and did not blame Hannish. Next, she went to Olivia’s looking glass to see if she did indeed look peaked. After careful examination, she dismissed the claim and went back to work on her embroidery in the sitting room.

  *

  Alistair knocked on the study door, opened it, handed the cablegram to Hannish, and then waited to see if his employer required anything. He watched Hannish read it, bow his head, and close his eyes. It was clearly not good news. “Do you wish...?”

  “Alistair, I arranged accommodations for my wife and twenty servants on the ship, but my wife only brought six with her. This cablegram from the captain says all twenty of the rooms were filled. Have you an explanation?”

  Alistair hesitated to answer but he had no choice. “I...I believe the duchess sold the tickets before we boarded, Sir.”

  “All fourteen of th
em?”

  Alistair’s heart sank. Something in the cablegram made Hannish suspicious and he feared the questions were about to get even more unpleasant to answer. “I dinna keep count, Sir.”

  “Did she manage to get a fair price?”

  “More than fair, there were many willing to...”

  “And did my sister pay her own way?”

  “She mentioned your brother made all the arrangements for her, Sir.”

  “I see. Thank you, Alistair, that will be all.” Hannish watched the door close and then read the short, but to the point, cablegram again:

  All rooms filled STOP

  No George Graham aboard STOP

  Pleasure to meet you and charming wife STOP

  Hannish wadded the cablegram up and threw it across the room.

  *

  It wasn’t long before the sky outside looked as gloomy as Hannish felt. Rain was beginning to pound against the windows and he found he could not stay in his study a moment more. He picked up the cablegram, smoothed it out, put it in his desk drawer, and went to see what his sister was up to. He found her surrounded by women in the upstairs sitting room, all of whom were looking out the window. At a sudden flash of lightning, each of them drew back a little.

  Sassy giggled, “We dinna often see it in the orphanage. It frightened Old Mrs. Forthright and she’d not let us near the windows. We could see the light, but...” Just then, loud thunder rolled across the sky and then slowly subsided.

  “Oh look,” McKenna said, “you can see it dance all the way to Kansas. How thrilling!”

  “Mrs. Forthright was right to be frightened, Sassy,” said Blanka. “You will surely die if it hits you. In Scotland, I once saw it split a tree in half.”

  Sarah sighed. “What I love is the way the rain washes the earth. Everything smells so new and fresh afterwards. You can smell rain coming, you know.”

  “How?” McKenna asked. “I have never smelled it in Scotland.”

  “I do not know, but you will smell it here someday,” Sarah answered. “It is spring and it often rains in spring.”

  “Does it snow in spring?” Donnel wanted to know.

  Sarah answered, “I have seen it snow a foot in June.”

  Sassy wrinkled her brow. “We were not allowed out in the snow either. How deep is a foot, exactly?”

  Sarah held her hands apart to indicate the depth. “As deep as this and you best not go out until the paths are swept. It is slippery.”

  “We opened a window last year and touched it,” Sassy bragged. “But we was caught; she was always catchin’ us.”

  “What did she do?” McKenna asked.

  Sassy giggled. “She spanked me good. Then she made me take care of the babies for a whole month while Miss Mary was away. I dinna let on, but I love holdin’ the babies and rockin’ them to sleep. I had the knack, the others said. Miss McKenna, you best get busy as I’ll be needin’ a baby to rock soon.” Sassy enjoyed the disturbed look on McKenna’s face and then laughed with the others.

  Behind them, Hannish quietly walked away. No matter how badly he felt, Sassy had a way of making him feel better and he wished it would snow just so she could play in it. He had troubles, true, but nothing compared to what Sassy had endured. A spanking at twenty? How humiliating that must have been for her, and to stay in such an awful place for the sake of a sister was a devotion he had rarely seen. Indeed, he could learn a thing or two from her when it came to strength and endurance.

  *

  As the next week progressed, the butlers seemed to have worked out a schedule of sorts, where by each served as their employer’s valet on alternating days. The other butler managed the dining room, the wine cellar, and the male servants. It allowed Alistair time to see to the spring planting of the gardens on his odd days and some early flowers were already beginning to bud. Prescot warned of a late freeze, which made Alistair watch the sky often, though there was not much he could do about the weather.

  The valets, which included Keith, Shepard, Dugan, and Ronan, opened and closed doors, served meals, polished the silver, carried anything heavy and rearranged furniture for the maids. It was also up to them to provide a clean table and chairs when McKenna desired tea outside, usually with Sassy, since Hannish kept himself too busy.

  As head housekeeper, Sarah was in charge of the maids, which included Charlotte, Blanka, Donnel and Sassy, when McKenna didn’t need her. They would need more help eventually, but five were enough to keep the rooms currently being used clean. As far as Hannish knew, there were no problems with the housekeepers or the valets.

  The cooks were another matter and normally one butler or the other hinted at disharmony in the kitchen. Even so, Hannish was at a loss as to how to solve the problem. Prescot reported that if something was not done soon, chaos would breakout in the kitchen.

  Trouble was closer than they thought.

  CHAPTER 5

  Cook Halen and cook Jessie sat across from each other at the table in the kitchen glaring at one another. It was almost time to start the noon meal; the servants were nearly finished with their morning chores, and drifted in and out without either of the cooks noticing.

  “We must come to some kind of arrangement,” said Halen. She was a stout woman in her late forties, and of average height, with graying hair tightly pulled back in a knot under her white cooking bonnet.

  Just as stout, yet a few years younger with blond hair and brown eyes, Jessie was determined to win the argument. “Aye, but not that one. I rise up early in the morn, always have. ‘Tis only right I should be the mornin’ cook.”

  “I get up early too, Jessie, and I wager I make better biscuits.”

  Jessie’s eye shot up. “Who says?”

  “Everyone, just ask them.”

  When Jessie glanced around, the room was oddly void of people. Then she smiled a mischievous sort of smile. “Care to place a wager on that?”

  “I do, name your price.”

  “The winner takes breakfast.”

  “Agreed,” said Halen. “Tomorrow, we shall make breakfast together. You bake half the biscuits and I’ll bake the other half.”

  Jessie nodded. “‘Tis a fair proposition.”

  *

  The next morning, while Halen wasn’t looking, Jessie added just a touch more salt to her batch of biscuits, while Halen secretly added a bit of sugar to hers. Nevertheless, the residents of Marblestone Mansion claimed they couldn’t quite decide and nothing got settled. That afternoon, Jessie baked a cake and so did Halen, sharing little in the kitchen except a few stern looks. By the time the pies came out of the oven that evening, half the servants were afraid to taste either one. It was never a good idea to get on the wrong side of a cook.

  *

  “Why me?” McKenna asked, her arm through her brother’s as they strolled across the lawn toward the mansion. “I like to eat as well as anyone else.”

  “Please,” he begged, pretending to pout.

  “How? They look as though they mean to kill each other.”

  “If I knew how, I would settle it myself.” He grinned, kissed her on the forehead, and went inside.

  Several letters and cablegrams arrived, none of which Hannish shared with anyone. One addition to the Mansion was about to make life far less complicated, if not more exciting – wooden telephone boxes were finally affixed to the walls in all the sitting rooms, the study and the kitchen. Alistair delighted in teaching everyone how to use it, since the Scots had used them for months. He explained taking the earpiece off the metal holder, turning the crank to alert the operator switchboard and then speaking into the cone shaped mouthpiece on the front.

  Sassy stood behind the others in the kitchen, waited for Alistair to finish giving his instructions and then giggled. “You can hear all sorts of things when you listen in.”

  Hannish frowned. “But, you’ll not do that here, will you, Sassy?”

  “Not lest I am asked,” said Sassy.

  “Unless,” Keith corrected.


  His corrections always made her glare at him and this time was no exception. “Un...less.”

  Hannish said, “I assure you, I am the only one who may ask, and you shall never hear me do it. Agreed, Sassy?”

  “Agreed, Mr. Hannish.” He was not quite certain exactly when they all began to call him ‘Mr. Hannish’ instead of his more formal name, but he knew Sassy started it and he approved. It would not be acceptable in some circles, but this was America and Americans were changing nearly everything.

  Sassy’s eyes sparkled. “I dinna suppose you care to know what I heard once when I listened in.”

  “I do,” Jessie said.

  That was all the encouragement Sassy needed. “Twas Old Mrs. Forthright what done the callin’ and I was ever so careful to lift the listening part just so. If you dinna do it careful, it clicks, and Old Mrs. Forthright has ears to hear a mouse tiptoe across the floor. Did I tell how badly I hated Old Mrs. Forthright?”

  Everyone, even Hannish, nodded so she went on with her story. “Well, ‘twas upon a Sunday while the good folks was in church, and low and behold, there was a gent on the other end. Old Mrs. Forthright read a list of numbers and foods to him, and it took considerable thought before I figured out what she was telling. Finally, I understood. The two of them had found a way to put the orphanage money into their very own pockets, by saying they paid for more food than was delivered.”

  “The scoundrels,” Prescot muttered. “I’d have tanned a few breeches over that one.”

  “What did you do, Sassy?” asked Charlotte.

  Sassy put her hands on her hips. “‘Twas a grave mistake teachin’ me how to write, for I wrote a very long missive to Queen Victoria. I begged the postage and sent it off just afore I sneaked...boarded the ship. I ‘spect she got it by now.”

  “Suspect,” Keith reminded.

  “I suspect it too,” Sassy said, sticking her tongue out at him.

  Hannish chuckled. “Just in case she didn’t, will you allow me to place an inquiry or two on your behalf? ’Twould be a fine thing to catch them in the act.”

  Sassy found the prospect exciting. “’Twould indeed, Mr. Hannish.”