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Beloved Lies, Book 2

Page 12

by Marti Talbott


  “All I have heard is that he is quite wealthy,” she answered.

  “I have heard that too. Is there no way to verify it? I mean, would the captain know?”

  “Possibly,” Lucy answered, “but it would be improper for me to ask.”

  “‘Tis not my place to ask either, I suppose. Yet I am concerned for Miss Robinson. A young lady with a fortune must take care to marry a man who is reputable and honest. Do you not agree?”

  Lucy hesitated before she answered, “I do.”

  “A lad who marries for wealth takes away any opportunity a lass may have to be happy, and I find a lifetime of unhappiness intolerable. I doubt I shall have to worry, though.”

  “Why not?” Lucy asked, suddenly paying more attention.

  “My inheritance is set aside until I am thirty.”

  Lucy’s mouth dropped. “I had not heard that either.”

  “Apparently,” Blair said, “that is the one thing Lady Forrestal neglected to gossip about.”

  After that, Lucy said little. She helped her dress, fixed Blair’s hair, and left the room. Next, she hurried to a writing desk in the small employee’s sitting room, scribbled a note, shoved it under her conspirator’s door, and walked away.

  ONCE DRESSED, BLAIR went off to join the Whitfields intending to satisfy her ravenous hunger. Soon after, Robin came to the dining salon and after a fulfilling breakfast, they decided to play some games in the lounge and then get some exercise. Blair hoped she would not have to deal with Lord O’Dell, but when they began their walk, there he was right outside the door, and when he smiled and did that silly bowing thing to Robin’s curtsy, there was no opportunity of ignoring him.

  As soon as Robin spotted her mother and stepfather, and went to talk to them, Lord O’Dell walked with Blair to the railing. “Still upset with me?”

  “I beg you shall forgive me. I greatly regret my behavior.”

  “You are forgiven. I should have realized I would not be the first to say it.” She turned to watch the ocean and said nothing, so he continued. “Mr. Dedrick and I would like to invite you and Miss Robinson to join us in a game of cards this afternoon.”

  At that, she turned to face him. “You are familiar with Mr. Dedrick?”

  “I am. I am often in need of his services and I highly recommend him, should you ever need a conveyancer.”

  “I cannae think why I would, but I thank you for the advice and the invitation. I shall ask Miss Robinson if she will join us when she has finished her conversation, but I am certain she shall agree. What time shall we meet?”

  “At two?”

  “Two it is.” She watched him walk away and then looked out over the vast, unending ocean. It seemed everyone wanted to be outdoors, and the man standing next to her muttered something she did not understand. She was about to ask him to repeat it when David approached her.

  “A cable for you, Miss MacGreagor.”

  “Thank you, David. Have you a last name?”

  He smiled, “David is sufficient where you are concerned.”

  Just as she unfolded the cable, the wind ripped it out of her hand and sent it sailing out over the ocean. ”Oh, no!” she moaned gripping the railing. The paper waffled back and forth until it landed in the water and then became swallowed up in the ship’s wake. “David, please say you read it.”

  “I am not allowed to, Miss MacGreagor,” said David.

  She noticed just a hint of a lie in his eyes. “Yet, you read it anyway? Pray tell me what it said.”

  David looked this way and that, and then whispered, “Your father misses you desperately.”

  Blair grinned. “Yet, it said much more than that.”

  “It did?” David asked.

  “Aye, it said Father has returned home safely and all is well.”

  David looked a little befuddled. “I must have misread it.” His smile soon matched hers. “Is there anything I can offer you? Something to drink, perhaps?”

  “I thank you, no.”

  He nodded and left. By then, Robin had finished talking to her parents and now seemed to be arguing with a man Blair had not yet met. She waited until he was gone and Robin joined her before she asked, “What did he want?”

  “He wanted to take your picture. I told him no, of course, and never to ask again. I do not suppose that shall keep him from taking one anyway.”

  “Dear friend, I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but ‘tis no use. There is no way of stopping those who are determined.”

  “As determined as our David?” Robin teased. “I am not at all convinced he pays his attention to you on behalf of the captain alone. A pity he has no wealth to tempt my mother, for I find him very pleasant.”

  “A pity indeed.”

  “What did Lord O’Dell have to say?”

  “We have been invited to join him and Mr. Dedrick in the lounge for cards this afternoon.”

  “Is that all? I hoped there was word of the missing viscount. On the other hand, perhaps Mr. Dedrick has news.”

  “Then you agree to playing cards with them.”

  “Of course I do, we have little else to do. Oh, Mother did say there is to be a concert in the lounge this morning...in just a few moments, actually.”

  “Splendid.”

  With Robin leading the way down the hallway Blair began to walk slower and slower, until she stopped. Deep in thought, she remembered that Mr. Dedrick had mentioned her beauty when they danced, and she thought nothing of it. She found the revelation surprising. Perhaps it was the way Lord O’Dell looked so pleased with himself for having said it. That must be it. Hopefully, Lord O’Dell would not mention her outburst to Mr. Dedrick. On the other hand, what did she care what Mr. Dedrick thought of her? She realized she was lagging behind, and hurried to catch up with Robin.

  BLAIR AND ROBIN WERE fashionably late, not that Blair cared, but Robin insisted upon it. As soon as they entered the lounge, both Mr. Dedrick and Lord O’Dell had smiles on their faces when they stood up to greet them. Soon, all four were seated around the square table, and Lord O’Dell began to shuffle a deck of cards.

  “Name your game, ladies,” said Mr. Dedrick.

  “Poker,” Blair said. She enjoyed the look of dismay on both their faces.

  Lord O’Dell slowly looked around the room. “The punishment is quite severe for a gentleman, if he is caught teaching poker to a fine English lady.”

  “You forget,” Blair answered, “I am an American. We are taught poker at a very early age.”

  “So you can beat the British?” Mr. Dedrick asked.

  “Precisely. ‘Tis tradition,” Blair answered. She liked the smile he gave her and if Lord O’Dell was smiling, she did not notice. Just then a woman entered. She was the same woman who had been sobbing the day the viscount went missing. This time, however, she seemed to have gotten over both her alarm and her grief.

  “The viscount’s sister,” Lord O’Dell whispered.

  Blair watched the woman sit at a table, unwrap the sandwich she had in a kerchief, and begin to eat. Next, the woman shuffled a deck of cards and began a game of solitaire. When Blair looked around to see who else was there, she spotted Lady Forrestal and Abigail seated in another part of the room. They were having tea and chatting, and when Abigail noticed her, Blair smiled.

  “Looks a bit dangerous,” Robin whispered nodding toward the two notorious gossips.

  “Were you not going to forbid their friendship?”

  “Me?” Robin asked. “I thought you were going to do it.”

  “Too late now,” Blair answered. She cleared her throat and watched Lord O’Dell continue to shuffle the deck of cards.

  “Have you any news about the viscount?” Robin asked.

  “A bit, perhaps,” Mr. Dedrick answered. “The ship has been completely searched and sadly he has not been found.”

  “Have they searched absolutely everywhere?” Blair asked.

  “They have,” Mr. Dedrick answered. “They have searched in second class, st
eerage, every closet, every cupboard, and even the boiler room. The night workers in the laundry room and those cleaning and preparing for the next day’s meals are keeping an eye out too. So far, there has been no sighting of him.”

  “Then Lord Ashton Hartsford truly did fall overboard?” Blair asked.

  “Or was pushed,” Robin added.

  “If indeed he is a Lord,” Mr. Dedrick scoffed.

  “You doubt him?” Robin asked. One at a time, she picked up the three cards dealt to her.

  Lord O’Dell disagreed with Mr. Dedrick. “He most likely is a true viscount, though a most obscure one. From the islands possibly. I cannot imagine him stupid enough to lie about that.”

  “He claims to be Irish,” Mr. Dedrick said. “Verifying his heritage in Ireland is not so easily done as in England.”

  “But do you think he fell overboard?” Robin pressed.

  Dedrick drew in a deep breath and let it out. “There is no way to know for certain. However, blood was found on a kerchief in his room.”

  “Oh my,” Robin gasped.

  “It truly means nothing,” Mr. Dedrick said. “A bloodied nose is not uncommon on a voyage. I have suffered them myself occasionally.”

  “As have I,” Lord O’Dell put in. He finished dealing the cards, picked up his hand, arranged it, and then discarded two cards.

  “My cards are terrible,” Robin said. “I demand a re-deal!”

  “What?” an amazed Lord O’Dell asked. “I hardly think that is allowed.”

  “It is when you grew up playing cards with Freddy Lester,” Robin said. “To this day, I have yet to discover how he cheated. I know this much, however, making him deal the cards a second time always improved my hand.”

  Lord O’Dell could not help but chuckle. He scratched the side of his odd shaped sideburn and looked at Mr. Dedrick for help. His friend could do nothing more than shrug, so he began to gather the cards.

  “I beg your pardon,” said Blair. “I’m not giving up this hand, Freddy Lester or no Freddy Lester.”

  “We are faced with a quandary,” Mr. Dedrick said to Lord O’Dell.

  “Indeed we are. Shall we toss a coin?” Lord O’Dell dug in his pocket, and pulled out an American nickel. Heads we begin a new deal and tails, we do not.”

  “Agreed,” the other three said. Robin won and Blair pretended to be put out, but her indignation did not last long.

  “Could your Freddy Lester be Sir Fredrick Lester, by any chance?” Mr. Dedrick asked.

  “Why yes, do you know him?” Robin asked.

  “Indeed I do,” Mr. Dedrick answered. “I fear there are few who do not.”

  Robin put her hand on Blair’s arm. “Freddy tried to get me to marry him, but he was much too young for me.”

  “How old was he?” Lord O’Dell asked.

  “Eight,” Robin answered. “I was all of nine and a half and quite grown up. Unfortunately, he settled on someone else before I could imagine my mistake. He has been married for just years and years.”

  “Two years, at last count,” Mr. Dedrick added. “He married my sister.”

  Robin grinned. “Did he? Do give him my regards when next you see him.”

  “I shall, I surely shall,” said Mr. Dedrick.

  “Does he yet cheat at poker?” Blair asked.

  Mr. Dedrick chuckled. “Not that I know of, but I shall be on my guard from now on.”

  “As well you should,” Robin said. “I recall once when...” For nearly an hour Robin continued to delight them all with stories of young Freddy Lester and as it turned out, she was quite good at poker.

  Blair listened but she said little. Her mind instead was on her book and she longed to find out what happened to her beloved MacGreagors. “Would you be too terribly upset if I went to my room?” Blair asked finally.

  “Are you unwell?” Lord O’Dell asked.

  “I assure you I am quite well. Will you see to Miss Robinson for me?”

  “Of course,” Lord O’Dell answered as he began to stand up.

  “Shall I see you to your room?” Mr. Dedrick asked as he too got up.

  “Yes, thank you.” Blair left the table, whispered something to Abigail, and then let Mr. Dedrick take her to where she most longed to be – back into the story of the MacGreagor glen. She was relieved that her bad behavior had not come up in the conversation, and therefore Mr. Dedrick did not think less of her. Of the two, she did like him best, especially since he was much easier to talk to.

  It took a few seconds, but she finally thought of something they could talk about as they walked down the long hallway. “Perhaps you might enlighten me, Mr. Dedrick. In America there is a fear that the British might go to war with the Germans.”

  “More likely it is the Germans who shall go to war with us.”

  “Why?”

  “One rarely knows the true reason for war until years after when it is fully examined. Naturally, one side shall tell a different story than the other side. Who said what precisely may never be known. In my opinion, war is all about who has the power and who does not.”

  “You have studied war?”

  “No more than any other man, I suppose, although I do love reading on the subject. Have you read War and Peace?”

  “I have and could hardly be dragged away from it. I shudder at the thought of war, for I found yesterday’s lightning and thunder frightening enough. Mr. Whitfield says Italy has begun dropping bombs from the air.”

  “I read that too.” He looked at the number on the door, stopped, and opened it for her. “I shall see you inside and then rescue Miss Robinson from the clutches of Lord O’Dell.”

  “Why do you say it like that?”

  “Oh, I mean nothing by it. It is just that she is...well, the sort of young lady too easily impressed with his title and wealth.”

  Blair laughed, stepped inside, and then turned around. “I believe you shall find her not as easily impressed as you think. Perhaps we shall meet again later.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Blair closed the door and then leaned her back against it. “How does he know which room is mine?” She took off her hat, laid it on the dressing table, got her book out of the traveling case, and then sat in a chair.

  CHAPTER 8

  MACGREAGOR GLEN

  There was nothing in the world more frustrating for Jamie than to feel his pants start to inch down.

  BLAIR STOPPED AND LOOKED up. “How did he know which room is mine?” she muttered a second time. At length, she shrugged and then started reading again.

  MACGREAGOR GLEN

  There was nothing in the world more frustrating for Jamie than to feel his pants start to inch down. He was way past getting embarrassed when they completely fell to the ground, but his mother found it unsuitable for a boy practically grown, so he learned to grab hold of the front just in time. Holding his pants up in the back, while trying to tie them in the front, was impossible so he had no choice but to ask his sister Kayleigh for help. She played with the other girls and each had a doll. In Jamie’s opinion, they did not even look like real babies. The dolls were made of clay and Kayleigh always pretended to be the mother. That was ridiculous. He just could not imagine her to be anything other than a pest.

  Still, there was no one else who could help, so he boldly walked right into her imaginary cottage.

  Kayleigh screeched, “Jamie, you just stepped on our supper!”

  Perplexed, he looked down. All he saw were two circles drawn in the dirt. “I command you to...”

  “I command you to leave,” Kayleigh shot back.

  That was all it took. Jamie grabbed her stupid doll right out of her make-believe cradle and started running.

  “Give that back,” Kayleigh screamed.

  Holding up his pants and running at the same time was not easy, especially since she could run faster than he could even when his pants were tied. He looked for a place to quickly hide, but even if he found one, it was too late – Kayleigh was gain
ing on him. He raced around one cottage corner, then the next, and he could practically feel her hand trying to grab his shirt.

  Why he did it, he was never quite certain, but when he reached a bucket of water conveniently setting in front of the cottage, he tossed the doll in and kept running. Behind him, Kayleigh screamed again and that made him smile. He smiled right up until the time his Uncle Cullen picked him up off the ground. By then, his mother had come to see why Kayleigh was screaming, and there was no doubt about it – he was had.

  JUST AS CULLEN AND Flannagan were best friends, so were Donnan and Berry. After his father passed and it came time for Donnan to choose a second in command, he immediately chose Berry.

  A levelheaded man, accomplished at making all manner of items out of leather, Berry felt honored to be chosen and never was there a decision made at the highest level without him. If he had any failing at all, it was his shyness around women, which is why he was not yet married. He was as pleasant looking as any other man, except for a scar down the side of his face that marked an accident with a sword some six months earlier. Most of the time, he forgot he had it, save for when he was around strangers. On those occasions, he hoped his untied auburn hair and full beard covered it well enough not to be noticed.

  Clan Graham was considerably larger than the MacGreagor clan and having never been there before, Donnan found the prospects of having to fight them daunting. Like most Scottish villages, there was no rhyme or reason to the meandering paths between the cottages, and unlike the MacGreagor glen, the road was not straight. He could see both the advantages and the disadvantages to the way the place was laid out. The people who came out to gawk at them as they slowly walked their horses down the road seemed neither friendly nor hostile, which he found a bit odd. Perhaps they had heard about the insult and took no pleasure in having to fight the MacGreagors. Yet, as everyone knew, the Scots did what their leaders told them, otherwise there would be chaos.

 

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