“What?”
“The way he kissed the duchess goodbye. I know my husband loves me, but does he love her still too? She is very beautiful, dinna forget.”
“I assure you, he does not love her. Once he saw her true nature, all love for her died.”
“Do you truly believe ‘tis possible to stop lovin’ someone?”
McKenna sighed, “I hope so.” She took another stitch before she looked at Leesil again. “You look a bit peaked, my dear.”
“I believe I am going to throw up.” Leesil hurried from the room and raced down the hall to the water closet.
McKenna smiled in spite of the bad news. “I hear being with child does that to a lass.”
In his study, Hannish stood beside his desk and waited for McKenna and Leesil to be seated. At length, he sat down and said, “In earnest I have tried to think of something, but I know not what to do about Olivia.”
“Hire someone to drag her off and leave her on a deserted island,” Leesil suggested.
Hannish rolled his eyes. “While I cannae abide having her here, I dinna wish that upon her. A bribe would be far less bothersome.”
“Aye,” said McKenna, “but one bribe will lead to another and another, just as it did with the Bayingtons. Nay, that will not do. I like the kidnappin’ idea better.” She smiled when her brother rolled his eyes again.
Leesil got up and began to pace. “Yet if she thinks we will tell Scotland Yard where she is, a bribe might truly work.”
“Perhaps,” McKenna agreed, “If she believes the newspaper article.”
“Why wouldn’t she?” Leesil asked.
“We forgot her connection to her first husband, George Graham. If she knows how to reach him, she may already know ‘tis a hoax,” McKenna answered.
Leesil continued pacing and then stopped. “Yet, if she takes the bribe it will mean she does not know.”
Hannish shook his head. “She might take the money and come anyway.”
McKenna bit her lower lip. “‘Tis just the sort of thing she would do. Never have I seen a lass who loves money more than the duchess.”
“I wonder,” Leesil began, “if she knows she is not wanted by Scotland Yard, would she stay with Charles? Surely she has discovered he has no wealth of his own by now.”
For a long moment, each of them considered that. “Leesil is right,” Hannish said. “If she comes, she comes with Charles because she has no funds, and she cannae find George Graham.”
“Then a bribe might tempt her to run before she gets this far inland,” said Leesil.
“Poor Abigail,” McKenna muttered, “She is so looking forward to having a daughter-in-law.”
“Poor Abigail if we cannae stop her,” said Hannish. “Are we agreed then…to try a bribe?” He waited until they both nodded and Leesil finally took a seat. “How do we get her away from Charles long enough?”
“Someone must meet her ship; someone she knows,” said McKenna. “I best go.”
Hannish shook his head. “Nay, she will take one look at you and go the opposite direction. You’ll not get close enough to separate her from Charles, let alone offer her the bribe.”
“Who then?” McKenna asked.
Hannish stared at the floor trying to think of just the right person.
“Dugan,” McKenna suggested. “If she is fond of any of us, it is Dugan. She might listen to him and even meet him somewhere alone. All he need do is hold up a hand full of money to tempt her.”
Hannish chuckled. “Aye, that would do it.”
“What must the duchess be thinking, I wonder,” said Leesil. “She tried to get money from Cameron, so she must know we have been informed. Perhaps she intends to run off once she lands in New York.”
“I pray she does, although I hate the thought that she might show up here when we least expect it,” said Hannish.
“You fear she will demand more money?” Leesil asked. “But why would you pay her? What has she got to hold against any of us?”
“My love, she might threaten to claim you are not my legal wife.”
Leesil wrinkled her brow. “‘Twould be a useless threat and she stands to lose far more than we.”
“Aye, but she knows I would pay to prevent it. A scandal such as that would bring shame upon you, and any children we have. Such a thing will follow from generation to generation.”
Leesil’s mouth dropped. “Do you mean they would say our children are not legitimate?”
“Aye.”
“Oh my.” Leesil rubbed her forehead for a moment and then narrowed her eyes. “I am likin’ the kidnappin’ idea more and more.”
“As am I,” McKenna muttered. “She has us, does she not?”
“Not if Dugan can stop her.”
“Are you certain we cannae just tell the truth?” Leesil asked.
McKenna reached over and took her hand. “‘Tis too late for that. We would have said in the beginning, had we been certain Charles had not married her.”
“But if we tell now…before Charles brings the duchess home, Claymore and Abigail might make Charles set his wife aside. She truly has committed bigamy, dinna forget, and Charles will know she lied to him.”
“And if Charles refuses no matter the truth?” McKenna asked. “Nay, sweetheart, they could not risk losing their only son…such as he is. As long as we are the only ones who know, ‘tis up to us to keep the Whitfields from suffering at the hands of the duchess.”
Hannish bowed his head. “‘Tis unimaginable what a foolish marriage can do to the people a lad loves.”
Leesil went to him, sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Not all your marriages have been foolish.”
He finally smiled, “Indeed not. I dinna deserve you, my love.” He kissed her passionately and when he looked, McKenna was gone.
*
Head footman Shepard served lunch to the four family members in Marblestone’s conservatively decorated dining room. He was a loyal servant who enjoyed listening to their conversations, and could be trusted not to repeat what he heard. Already the heat was becoming unbearable and as he poured tea for each, he hoped lunch would not last too long.
As was his custom, Hannish divided the morning paper and handed a section to each of the women. He concentrated on the business section, and was especially interest in the gasoline engine automobile predicted to be in full production in another year or two. The drawings of the motor vehicle looked very much like an enclosed carriage with no horses.
“Moving pictures,” Cathleen sighed, staring at her section of the paper. “I wonder how they make them move.”
McKenna laid hers aside after finding nothing very interesting, other than the coming marriage of a couple she did not know. “I cannae imagine.”
“Will we ever see them here, do you think?” Cathleen asked.
“In time,” Hannish muttered. His attention was drawn to a new oil field discovered in Kansas, and then to the production of increasing quantities of steel in Pittsburgh.
“Oh my,” Leesil said. “Five hundred died in a hurricane Monday last…all dead on the same day, can you believe it?” She lay her paper down in favor of taking a bite of eggs and bacon. “The newspaper must have printed the number wrong.”
“What is a hurricane precisely?” Cathleen asked.
“It is a very strong wind,” Hannish answered, passing his section of the paper to his sister.
Leesil’s bacon did not taste good, so she took another bite of eggs instead and set her fork on her plate.
“What else does it say, sister?” Cathleen asked.
Leesil picked the paper back up and quickly scanned it. “Well, it says the island of Galveston was completely ruined. A wall of water rose up out of the sea and all the homes were flattened, the bridges fell and the telephones would not work.”
McKenna lifted her hand to let Shepard know she wanted more tea. “How far away is Galveston?”
“They say Texas is the largest state, so I imagine it
is quite far.” Hannish answered.
“Then I am relieved,” McKenna said.
“Me too,” said Cathleen. “Although a good breeze might cool us down some.”
Leesil nodded. “We must have Abigail and Claymore to dinner when it cools. I’ve not heard a word about the gold mines since the cave in.”
Hannish wiped his mouth with a napkin and smiled. “Nothing has changed, the miners want higher wages and the owners wish not to give it to them.”
“Will you not take us to see Cripple Creek someday, brother? Surely it is not that dangerous,” McKenna said.
“I assure you, for a lass it is. Lads with wives keep them well away from the goings-on in town, just as they should. The…other sort of lasses, wear paint on their faces and skirts short enough to offend your delicate senses, little sister.”
McKenna pretended to pout. “Very well, I shall be content with what little excitement I find in books.”
“You might go visiting more often,” he suggested. “You do stay home far more than you should. By the way, I have ordered several books from a publisher in the east. They should arrive next week.”
“Have you, how splendid,” said Leesil. “I love to read.”
“So do I,” Hannish agreed, “and in winter there is little else to do.”
Leesil took another bite of egg, but now it didn’t taste very good, and she had trouble getting it down. “Husband, tis the oddest thing. You know I love bacon, but lately, the smell of it…well, I find it quite unpleasant, particularly in the morning.”
“Do you? I shall ask the cooks to serve something else until the sickness passes.”
“What sickness?” Cathleen asked
Leesil took a deep breath and ignored her sister’s question. “Blanka says it is quite common, but it is too soon to tell if it is that, or the bacon.”
Puzzled, Cathleen looked at McKenna. “What are they talking of?”
Leesil frowned at her little sister. “Dinna tell her, McKenna. I’d not like everyone getting excited just yet.”
“Excited about…” Cathleen raised an eyebrow. “I am too young to be an aunt.”
“I am too young to be a mother, but here we are,” Leesil shot back.
Cathleen put her hands on her hips. “James warned us about lads, or did you forget?”
Hannish nearly spit his mouthful of tea out, McKenna giggled and Shepard had to turn his back to keep from laughing.
Cathleen narrowed her eyes. “What other rules have you broken, sister?”
Leesil abruptly stood up. “Never mind all that. Come sister, we have work to do.” She paused just long enough to kiss Hannish when he stood and then hurried out of the room.
Cathleen shrugged, grabbed her plate and hurried after her. “Rush here and rush there, ‘tis all we ever do.”
Hannish smiled until they were gone and then looked worried after he sat down. “She eats so little these days. Shepard, does my wife go to the kitchen for something later?”
“She does. The cooks keep potato soup ready, which she seems more able to keep down.”
“Good, thank them for me, and ask them not to make bacon for a few days.” He turned his attention back to his sister. “What work have they to do?”
Shepard knew that question was coming and had to turn his back again to hide his smile.
“I have no idea,” McKenna admitted. “Brother, I have been thinking. James has a position with Cameron in Scotland, does he not?”
“The last I heard.”
“Perhaps I might send him a letter. Can you imagine the sister’s delight when they receive one back from him in time for Christmas?”
“McKenna, you amaze me. I can think of nothing they would like better. And when my brother comes next year to visit, perhaps he will bring James with him. I should like to meet this very wise lad who kept my wife and her sister safe in the orphanage.”
McKenna finished her lunch and set her napkin aside. “Since you have suggested it, perhaps I shall go to town this afternoon. May Carl drive me?”
“Of course. Shepard, see that he is notified.”
“Yes, Sir.”
After they were gone, Shepard gathered the last of the dishes, put them on his tray and headed for the kitchen. He was greatly relieved Hannish did not ask him what his wife was up to, and decided he best ask the butlers what to say if he ever did.
*
The only woman who constantly managed to invade his dreams, as well as his every waking moment, was in town again. It was enough to drive the judge mad. He had seen her often at various town activities, but she either refused to look his way, or was surrounded by women. Clearly, she had no intention of befriending him. More than anything, he wanted to apologize for what he said, but it never seemed to be the right time or the right place.
From his upstairs office window, he once more watched her go into a shop and finally made up his mind – today was the day to set things right with her, even if she was not alone. Yet, if he could approach her without witnesses, he might be able to avoid angering her a second time. With plenty of cases to hear, but none ready for the afternoon session, he left his office, walked to the stable, saddled his horse and decided to follow her home.
Judge Mitchel waited at the end of Main Street, a place she had to pass on her way up the hill, but instead of coming toward him, the red carriage turned east. “Where are you going?” he muttered. He urged his horse that direction and followed her.
The carriage took McKenna past the park, down a lane where new houses were being built, and still it did not stop. Instead, it turned down a dirt road leading to several farms. East of town was a far more barren land than the Marblestone plateau, with fewer trees and even less green grass, save that which the farmers managed to keep watered.
The first farm consisted of a house, a large red barn and a shed for tools and equipment. Cows grazed in the pasture and as McKenna hoped, the farmer was busy harvesting his field behind a horse drawn McCormick Reaper. A new invention, the reaper was a marvel that many came to see. It cut the grain stocks, a wheel swept the yield onto a platform, and a second man raked it off into piles easily picked up later and tossed in a wagon. The contraption promised to save hours of hard labor and all the farmers were very excited about it.
It was then the judge saw it.
An enormous black cloud hung in the sky and as he watched in horror, a wide tip began to stretch toward the ground. “Tornado,” he whispered. He kicked the side of his horse hard, and sped toward the carriage. “TORNATO!” he shouted. He was almost alongside when a shocked Carl finally realized what the judge was yelling about, looked that direction and yanked the team to a full stop.
Carl’s first thought was of McKenna, but the judge had already swung down off his horse and was headed for the carriage door. The roar of a wind was steadily increasing, so much so that Carl didn’t hear the judge yell, “Take cover!” Instead, he jumped off his carriage seat and feverishly began to unharness the nervous horses.
Soon, rain began to pour out of the sky, the funnel moved closer and the leaves on the trees started to turn upward. The harsh wind whipped Judge Mitchel hat off just as he grabbed the carriage door handle, yanked it open, and reached for a bewildered McKenna’s arm. She seemed reluctant to move, so he pulled hard. “HURRY!”
Rain, turned to pellets of ice that stung his face and when he looked again, the funnel cloud was much larger and headed straight for them. At last, McKenna climbed out, and as she did, the wind ripped her new hat off, and began to lift her skirt. While she tried to control her skirt, he put his arm around her, and helped her fight against the force of the wind.
The sky turned even darker and at last, they reached a gulley. Judge Mitchel put his mouth close to her ear and pointed. “LAY DOWN IN THERE!” She looked confused, but she did as he commanded, He sat down next to her and just before he stretched out, he saw the farmer’s shed explode. The gulley was too shallow to protect them completely, and the wind was st
ill tearing at her skirt, so he looped one of his legs over both of hers. It freed her arms so she could shield her face. The sky became darker still, large hail continued to pound the earth, and he could feel ice cold water soaking into the back of his clothing. Suddenly, a splintered board came hurling out of the darkness and threatened to impale them. With both hands and with all his might, he slapped it away and watched the tornado draw it upwards again.
Almost immediately, the dirt, hail and debris filled swirling funnel was directly on them. He felt the tornado pull his tucked shirt out of the front of his pants, and to his horror, his whole body began to levitate upward. Desperate, he tried to find something to hang on to, but there was nothing except a bush that would not help for long. Just then, McKenna wrapped her arms around his neck and grabbed hold of his shirt. The tornado seemed to be sucking his breath away and he doubted they would survive -- but then it abruptly released him.
They lay together in the gully until the murderous pounding hail turned back to rain and debris fell to the ground. Slowly, he lifted his leg off McKenna, felt her release her hold on his shirt and drew in a deep breath. “Are you hurt?”
She was covered with mud and tears were in her eyes when McKenna finally drew in a deep breath. She slowly sat up and looked around. The carriage was gone, the farmer in the field had disappeared, his new machine was toppled, the trees had no leaves and…“CARL!” she shouted. Her driver was nowhere in sight. One of the horses lay not far away, still hitched to part of the undercarriage. “Carl?” she whispered.
Beside her, Judge Mitchel held one bloody hand in the other and struggled to sit up. McKenna gasped, shoved her muddy hair off her face and took hold of his arm. “Can you stand?”
“I think so.” He waited for her to rise, got a foot under and with her help, stood up. His left hand was bleeding and he wasn’t sure if it was broken, but the first two fingers of his right hand clearly were. For a long moment, they both stood there trying to grasp what had happened.
McKenna watched him walk to the horse and when he returned, she asked, “Where is Carl?”
“I do not know.” Still holding his hurting hands, he looked deep into her eyes. “McKenna, the horse’s leg is broken.”
Marblestone Mansion, Book 2 Page 11