Marblestone Mansion, Book 3 Page 8

  “But you do have some funds?”

  “Enough for a while.”

  “You are not wearing your wedding ring, I see.”

  She leaned forward. “Will it be safe from robbers in my room, do you think?”

  Again, he smiled. “I can almost guarantee it.”

  “I bet you can.” She was about to taste her meal when someone fired a gun in the street outside their window. Other women put their hands over their hearts or squealed, but the duchess casually looked out the window, saw nothing and then looked back at him. “Friends of yours?”

  It was his turn to laugh out loud. “I would not be surprised.” He could not have been more pleased with Caroline Griffith’s calm demeanor. She was beautiful, had a quick wit and was exactly the kind of woman he hoped to find. He fully intended to spend a great deal of time with her in the future – if she would allow it.

  *

  No doubt about it, with Colorado Spring’s millionaires, came expensive homes, most of which were located on Wood Avenue north of the college, where the water supply was more plentiful. To accommodate them, new stores and shops, together with stock exchanges, mining company offices, and merchants who sold supplies and services to the mining companies, seemed to be springing up overnight.

  Some of the fifty or so new tycoons were standoffish, but most enjoyed a good town picnic as much as the poorest among them. Unfortunately, most of those men were quite married and many had children, much to Pearl and Loretta’s chagrin.

  When the day of the town picnic arrived, everyone at Marblestone was excited. As promised, Cook Halen and Cook Jessie carefully put the baked goods they prepared for the Denver orphanage sale in large baskets, and had the footmen carry them out to the wagons. Then they filled lunch baskets with fried chicken, corn on the cob, biscuits and strawberries for dessert. For Harriet and Margaret Ann, they took special care to pack two glorious meals in boxes for the customary lunch box auction. Each box held enough to feed the man who bid the highest, and the hopeful young lady.

  Cathleen was hopeful too, but sister Leesil would not hear of it, nor would Hannish. Cathleen was still too young. She rolled her eyes and decided her prince charming would probably need an army just to make it to the front door. Instead, Cathleen agreed to run the bake sale. At least there, she might meet an interesting man or two, and no one needed an army to buy a slice of cake or pie.

  As the hour of the picnic approached, there was only one problem – clouds appearing on the eastern horizon threatened rain. Therefore, the ladies grabbed their colorful parasols and put them in the wagons.

  At last, everyone was aboard and the whole MacGreagor clan happily went off to town.

  *

  As soon as the MacGreagor wagons arrived, Keith went to help the ladies climb down, especially little William and Margaret Ann – a gesture that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the MacGreagors.

  Acacia Park was already filled with people, wearing colorful spring clothing. Men in costumes delighted old and young alike, while those on stilts carefully wove their way through the crowd. Children played tag on the grass, and elder men took turns tossing horseshoes, while their wives stood in groups enjoying a bit of gossip they may or may not have missed. A band played lively marching songs intermingled with favorite ballads some of the people enjoyed singing along with.

  Blanka, the MacGreagor elder, was happy to sit on a park bench and mind baby Justin, while Leesil and Hannish strolled down the tree-lined walk amid other couples with the same idea. They were headed back toward the pavilion when Leesil noticed Hannish was keeping a sharp eye out. “Husband, do you watch over the clan, Cathleen in particular, or do you look for the duchess?”

  Hannish grinned. “Cathleen is quite safe, and you cannae possibly think the duchess would come here.”

  “I dinna know what to think. I just wish we knew where she was for certain.”

  “‘Tis a bit unsettlin’, I admit, but for this day at least, let us not fret over her.”

  “Agreed.” Leesil checked to make sure Blanka was not waving her over and then spotted Dugan walking with Beverly. She nodded in their direction. “They seem very happy after having married the first day they met. Much might have gone wrong for them.”

  “Indeed. I am pleased for Dugan, he is a good lad.”

  “I believe Beverly will soon have more children to teach.”

  “Will she? My sister and who else?” he asked.

  “If I am not mistaken, Millie has a bit of a glow about her.”

  He stopped walking, searched through the crowd and finally spotted Millie walking with Prescot. “You can tell just by looking at her?”

  “Only time will tell if I am right. And just now I am reminded, if we have a daughter, may we name her Anna after the first lass in your stories?”

  “I would like that, only…”

  “Only what?”

  “Now that we have lost Flora so suddenly, the thought of you havin’ more children frightens me. Promise you will not leave me.”

  She smiled and tightened her hand around his arm. “I promise.”

  They were almost to Blanka when Hannish nodded toward Keith and Margaret Ann. “Unless I am mistaken, we are about to lose our Margaret Ann to Keith. The Goodwins will love her, but they are getting on in years and may not enjoy having a toddler in the house. Perhaps we should ask Keith to come back instead.”

  “I heartily approve,” said Leesil. “‘Twould be splendid to see Margaret Ann happy. Keith is a fine lad and he will be a good father to William.”

  “That he will. We must invite the Goodwins over more often and Keith with them.”

  “A little matchmakin’ on our part?” Leesil asked. “What fun.”

  “Perhaps a little matchmakin’ in a month or two for your sister as well?”

  At that, Leesil wrinkled her brow. “Let you choose her husband, you mean?”

  “Why not, matchmakin’ is an old family tradition. Lairds in our clan have been doin’ it for generations.”

  “Aye, but for generations, the lairds knew all the lads and could tell which the lass should avoid. You hardly know any of these.”

  “Then I must endeavor to get to know them, once Cathleen shows an interest.”

  “I am counting on you doin’ just that. I’d not like seein’ her with any but the best sort of lad. He must be tall, handsome, and very, very kind.”

  “Tall and handsome matters, does it?”

  Leesil giggled. “It did to me.”

  Just then, Hannish spotted Claymore waving them over to the other side of the pavilion. Hannish glanced at his son, decided he was fine and led his wife through the crowd.

  Abigail was all in a flutter. “Charles called, he…”

  “In the middle of the night,” a perturbed Claymore interrupted. “I have taught that boy nothing…nothing at all about the different time zones!”

  “Claymore, please, let me finish,” his wife complained.

  “If you must, Abigail.”

  “Indeed I must.” She glared at her husband for a moment and then turned her attention back to Leesil. “Charles has landed safely and intends to see Alexandra’s solicitor this morning…or is it night there. I get quite confused myself.” She shot Claymore a warning look and then continued. “I doubt her solicitor knows anything, but...”

  “That will cost him,” Claymore muttered anyway. “The boy has no…”

  Abigail was astounded and turned to face her husband. “Do you mean the solicitor might charge a fee for the information?”

  “Solicitor’s do not work for free, my dear,” Claymore answered.

  Hannish wasn’t sure he should, but he said it anyway, “‘Tis quite unsavory for a solicitor to give or even sell information about his client.”

  “She is hardly his client now…unless she has been arrested again…God willing,” Claymore muttered.

  When McKenna and Nicholas joined them, Abigail gave McKenna a hug. “As I was saying…”
<
br />   Hannish stopped paying attention. Instead, he watched as two young men approached the bake sale table. Both seemed a lot more interested in Cathleen than in the baked goods and Leesil was right, Hannish recognized neither of them. In his opinion, they seemed a little old for Cathleen, so when Pearl and Loretta also went to talk to Cathleen, he was relieved.

  CHAPTER 6

  “Which box lunch is yours, Cathleen?” Steve Gamby asked.

  “I am still too young to have one, my sister says,” Cathleen answered.

  Theodore Smith slyly grinned. “Do you agree with your sister?”

  “Well, not always, but on this occasion I do.” Cathleen did not favor either one and hoped that would discourage both, but from the smiles on their faces, she guessed the hint went right over their heads.

  “Pearl and I have box lunches,” Loretta mentioned. “Mine is the red box with the white rose and hers has a pink ribbon wrapped around it.”

  Steve Gamby tipped his tall black hat, “I’ll keep that in mind. Ladies.” He turned, pretended to nod to someone in the distance, made his excuses and walked away.

  Cathleen waited until they were both gone before she asked, “You do not truly fancy either of them, do you?”

  Pearl wore a lace trimmed, frilly white blouse just as most women did, with a long, dark red skirt. She had a pleasant oval face, brown eyes and wore her light blonde hair in a bun under her modest hat. Her parasol matched her red skirt perfectly and kept the sun off her light skin, now that the clouds had passed without leaving rain. “I don’t, but you never know when one might have a wealthy brother or uncle.”

  “True. I shall ask next time, if you like,” said Cathleen.

  Loretta was horrified. “Come right out and ask?” Loretta was a little more filled out than her best friend, Pearl. She had cheeks that were always rosy, wore a green print skirt and shifted her weight from one leg to the other often, as though her shoes hurt her feet. Even so, she had a very nice smile and was always cheerful.

  “Why not?” Cathleen asked. “Why wait until they manage to mention it. They might fall madly in love before you find out they have no rich relative, and then what will you do?”

  “She is right, Pearl,” said Loretta. “If only more unmarried men were to make this their home.”

  “So long as they are well-to-do?” Cathleen asked.

  Loretta gave Cathleen a penny for a cookie, nibbled on the edge and shook her head. “I would settle for a shop owner. They at least have a steady income.”

  “That sounds reasonable,” Cathleen agreed. “Still, a handsome lad would be even better.”

  “That reminds me, when is the other Mr. MacGreagor coming?” Pearl asked.

  “The duke?”

  “That’s the one,” said Pearl.

  “He’ll not be lookin’ for a bride just yet,” Cathleen reminded.

  “Of course not, but we do hope to make him feel welcome. Will you introduce us when he comes?”

  Loretta rolled her eyes. “Do you not remember? We met him at Leesil’s wedding.”

  “I suppose we did, but he was married then and most likely will not remember me.”

  “Us,” Pearl corrected.

  “‘Twill be an honor to reintroduce you both,” said Cathleen.

  Pearl clasped her hands together and whimsically twisted her body from side to side. “What do you suppose it is like being a duchess?”

  “Dreary, I have heard,” Cathleen answered.

  “Dreary?” a surprised Loretta asked. “How can it be dreary?” She waited for an answer while Cathleen sold a slice of lemon pie to a boy of not yet thirteen.

  “I have heard,” Cathleen continued, “A duchess has many obligations. She must attend balls, give exquisite dinners, and even go fox hunting. She will have no time to read or sew, and if she has children, she is so busy she will hardly know them.”

  “Fox hunting?” Pearly asked.

  “Hours and hours on a horse, hunting a fox, although the Kingdom has scant few left, I am told. A duke hunts them regularly and a duchess must go with her husband. It is required.”

  “Hours and hours on a horse?” Loretta muttered, again shifting her weight to her other foot.

  “Surely there is a way of getting out of that duty,” said Pearl.

  “How many headaches can a wife have?” Cathleen asked. She was lying through her teeth, but doubted either of them would ever catch her. Besides, she only wanted to keep them from overwhelming Cameron when he came. It was the least she could do for him.

  Loretta took another bite of her cookie, caught the crumbs in her hand and tossed them on the grass. “Cathleen, have you met Mr. Douglas Swinton yet?”

  “Who is he?”

  “He bought the house at Palmer Lake and no one has heard whether he is married or not.”

  “I am not,” a man said standing right behind Loretta.

  Loretta spun around and dropped her mouth. There stood the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was smartly dressed in brown knickerbockers, a white shirt, a rounded top hat and he carried a black walking stick. His hair was a deep shade of blond, and his eyes were somewhere between gray and blue.

  Pearl gawked too, and even Cathleen was taken aback. “Cake or pie?” Cathleen managed to ask at length. She touched Pearl on the shoulder to get her attention and motioned for her to move out of the way, so Mr. Swinton could come closer to the table. Then she waited while he tried to decide, all the while staring at his wonderful face.

  “You are?” he asked when he looked up.

  “Oh, I am Cathleen Covington and these are my friends, Miss Pearl Hughes and Miss Loretta Collins.”

  He tipped his hat to each and then looked back at Cathleen. “There is so much to choose from, what do you recommend, Miss Covington?”

  He was indeed a handsome man, but she was not nearly as smitten as Pearl and Loretta. “Frankly, I recommend you wait until after lunch.”

  As if on cue, the Mayor called out to quiet the crowd, and then began his speech. Pearl and Loretta knew what that meant – it meant the box lunches would be raffled off soon, yet they were torn between going to watch and staying where they might find out more about the mysterious Mr. Swinton.

  What could Cathleen do, but help her friends out a little. “Mr. Swinton, are you wealthy?”

  “He was surprised by her question, but he answered it anyway. “I do well enough, if that is what you are asking.”

  “I see, you are unmarried and a little better off than most lads. Therefore, you have passed the test.”

  Thoroughly astounded at Cathleen’s audacity, Pearl and Loretta excused themselves and hurried off to watch the bidding. Even so, each of them looked back at the handsome man occasionally, which made Cathleen smile.

  “Tell me,” Mr. Swinton asked, “Are you always this direct?”

  “I believe…aye, I believe I must be. I think life is a little too short to waste a great deal of time on trifles. Therefore, I like to get to the bottom of things quickly.”

  “You hope to marry for wealth?” he bravely asked.

  “I am far too young to marry for wealth…or otherwise, Mr. Swinton. Are you not goin’ to bid on a lunch box?”

  “I am not from these parts. What precisely is the bidding all about?”

  “I do not rightly understand it myself, but a lad choses the prettiest box, I hear, and then bids to share what is in the box with the lass who made it.”

  “How does a…lad…know which lass made it?”

  “He does not, ‘tis half the fun, but if you are inclined, I suggest you bid on the one with the big green bow on top. The money goes to the orphanage in Denver.”

  “Is that one your box?”

  “That would be tellin’ would it not?”

  He looked at her, looked at the Mayor who was just finishing his speech and looked at her again. “I believe I shall take my chances.”

  Cathleen watched him walk away, made sure he was not looking back and then giggled.
“Susan Glass will be thrilled.” She sighed and decided she should tidy the table up a bit, but when the mayor began the bidding for Margaret Ann’s box, she paused to watch.

  “One dollar!” Keith shouted.

  “A dollar! Now that’s the way to start this raffle off. Bravo, Mr. Keith!”

  When there were no other bids, Margaret Ann blushed, took her box out of the Mayor’s hands and then went off with Keith to share her lunch.

  Cathleen tried not to watch, but she couldn’t help it when Susan’s box was held up for bids. Two men bid against each other and one happened to be Mr. Swinton, which vexed Pearl and Loretta greatly. However, for a man who claimed to be comfortably set, Cathleen found his bid of thirty-five cents disappointing. Even so, the other man failed to top it and Susan’s lunch went to Mr. Douglas Swinton.

  If he was disappointed, he did not show it when he discovered it was the box of a rather plain looking, and enormously flattered Susan. She handed him the box, took his arm and together they strolled toward an unoccupied spot on the grass. It was not until he glanced at Cathleen with a less than pleased look on his face, that she stopped watching and looked away. “Too easily tricked,” she muttered.

  Next came the bidding for Pearl’s box which sold for the usual twenty-five cents, but Loretta’s box went for only a dime. Cathleen understood why; rumor had it that Loretta was not the best of cooks and since she made it known which box was hers, she negated her own sale. Nevertheless, all the men were gentlemanly, and the two with Pearl and Loretta never suspected why they ended up sitting in close proximity to Mr. Swinton and Susan. Cathleen couldn’t help but smile.

  “I think he fancies you,” Hannish suddenly said. He held little William in his arms and grinned at Cathleen.

  “Good heavens, I dinna know you were there.”

  “You were quite preoccupied. Who is the lad you are watching?”

  “Mr. Swinton. You have not yet met him?”

  “Not yet, and I best do so soon, now that he has made your acquaintance.”

  “So you can frighten him away?”

  Hannish winked, “If I can.”