“I said I would.”
“Do you love him?”
“It matters not.”
He rolled his eyes. “Do you love him, McKenna?”
It took a moment, but she finally answered. “Aye.”
*
The next morning, the case presented before Judge Mitchel seemed even more boring and drawn-out than usual. Nevertheless, he sat behind his bench, took notes and tried to forget about McKenna. He was not very successful. Halfway through the morning session, Glenn slipped him a note saying McKenna had gone to see Chester, and placed a very large order for candles. It made him feel a little better, but not much, and listening to a lawyer harshly cross-examining a witness was doing nothing to improve his mood.
At length, he spotted Hannish MacGreagor standing in the back of the courtroom with his hat in his hand. The judge held up his hand to silence the witness and then asked, “Mr. MacGreagor, what is it?”
“I will speak to you alone, Your Honor.”
Judge Mitchel nodded. “Gentlemen, we will break for lunch and reconvene at 1:30. Clear the courtroom.” He waited for them to leave, stood up and removed his black robe. Then he walked around his podium and stepped down. “Is something wrong with McKenna?”
“Aye, her heart is broken and I have come to mend it.” Hannish reached in his pocket, pulled out the letter from Lady Bayington and watched as the judge read it.”
“Four marriages?” the judge finally asked.
“Five. She married Charles Whitfield after me, and has no doubt married again since. I gave her money to keep her from coming here."
“I can see why.” Shocked, the judge handed the letter back and sat down in the first pew.
“I dinna divorce her because we were never married, not according to British law.”
“Or American; Charles is not married to her either.”
“Fortunately for him.” Hannish finally sat down beside the judge.
“Tell me, how do I get McKenna back? Did she tell you she agreed to marry me?”
“Aye. The sheriff has been asking questions, and once you asked about the duchess, she no longer trusted you.”
“I meant no harm. I had no idea the answer to my question was so complicated. What can I do?”
“I dinna know. She has been deeply hurt before and trusting does not come easy for her.”
“Will you tell her I am sorry?” Judge Mitchel asked.
“I will tell her. Perhaps you might give her a little time to get beyond her anger.”
*
The sun began to set earlier each day and as the evening air cooled, the footmen at Marblestone Mansion began to stock the various boxes with wood for the hearths. Chilly nights meant warmer clothes needed freshening, and two crates of books arrived from the publisher in the east that needed to be put in the library. More hay was delivered to keep the horses fed through winter and Leesil’s stomach began to grow.
McKenna might have forgiven the judge much sooner, but he didn’t call, come to visit, or send a letter. She missed him and she often thought about the difference between him and the man who jilted her in Scotland. The first was forever kissing her, and the judge had yet to do anything other than kiss her hand. She wondered if she would like his kisses, but there was only one way to find out. It was up to her to swallow her pride and go to him, she realized. Yet, a proper lady did not do such a thing. In the end, the time kept passing and her conflict remained unresolved.
*
It was on a particularly cold morning a call came from the judge and Hannish went to the upstairs sitting room to tell his sister the bad news -- little Chester went to sleep the night before and didn’t wake up. McKenna cried, Millie cried, Leesil was in tears and even Cathleen shed a tear, although none of them met the little boy.
The day of the funeral, McKenna let Hannish take her to town. It was a solemn service, held at the gravesite and McKenna couldn’t help but notice the Judge. He kept his head bowed and her heart went out to him, but it didn’t seem to be the right time. As the others began to leave, she went to lay flowers on Donnel and Carl’s graves. She was about to walk away when she noticed the judge was still there and instead went to him. She stood in front of him and when a tear rolled down his cheek, she carefully wiped it away with her gloved thumb. “I am so very sorry.”
He had to clear his throat twice before he could say, “So am I.” Even then, he didn’t think he could say anything else, so he just put his arms around her and pulled her close. She didn’t resist and he closed his eyes to take in the glorious feel of her in his arms finally. “Can you ever forgive me?” he finally managed to ask.
“‘Tis already forgiven.”
“I have missed you so.”
“And I you,” she confessed.
“I cannot give you the kind of life your brother has.”
She drew back and smiled. “I care nothing for my brother’s wealth. I need only a warm fire, a pleasant meal and you.”
He smiled finally. “I believe I can give you a little more than that.” He let go of her, wrapped her hand around his arm and started them walking toward the buggy where Hannish was waiting. “I hear San Francisco is warm this time of year.”
“California? Aye, but we must cross the snowy mountains to get there. ‘Tis not safe, I have heard.”
“You are right, but I will not wait until spring to marry you.”
“Nor will I.”
He stopped walking, took her in his arms at last, and kissed her. Neither of them noticed the fluffy snowflakes drifting down from the sky.
*
It was perhaps the last time the Orphanage Committee would meet before spring. The final plans could not be made concerning the house in Palmer Lake until they found a doctor. On the bright side, a postponement meant they had time to raise more money. As it was, McKenna was the only one to show up for the last meeting, and Abigail decided they should sit in her sitting room and just drink tea.
“You are feeling better, I see,” said McKenna.
“I have something to tell you, but you must promise not to tell another living soul. Do not be like me, McKenna, for I cannot keep a secret for very long, my husband tells me. This one, I vow to take to my grave.”
“Of course I will not tell. What is it?”
“It is about Charles. Today, he has gone off with his father to the mines, at last. As you know, his second day back, he unpacked all of Alexandra’s things. He put them in one of the guest bedrooms so they would be ready should someone find her. There Charles stayed, refusing to even come down to dinner.”
“I am happy to hear he is beyond that now.”
“Not as happy as I am. This morning, after he finally went off with his father, I opened the door to the guest room. What sort of perfume do they sell in England? Never has my nose been so assaulted. I tell you, I went straight to the window and opened it wide.”
It was all McKenna could do to keep from laughing. She remembered that smell all too well, and often wondered how a man could find it alluring. “It must be something from Paris.”
“Ah yes, well, my Charles is never going back there again. As I was saying, that’s when I found it in the pocket of a silk dressing robe I thought very pretty.”
“Found what?”
“A letter Alexandra began to Mr. Sinclair.”
“What sort of letter is it?”
Abigail lowered her voice. “It is a love letter.”
“Oh, poor Charles. What does the letter say?”
“Alexandra thanked Mr. Sinclair for freeing her. It was true, you see, she had committed bigamy. She called him her dear, sweet husband and promised to go see him at her earliest opportunity.”
“She has gone back to England?”
“I am convinced of it. I do not see how, with no money and no clothes, but she found a way to leave my Charles and go back to her second husband.”
“Abigail, I know not what to say.”
“What can you say? She lied to us all. You’ll not t
ell our society, will you? Let them think she has been kidnapped…for our sake. I cannot think what it would do to Claymore if he found out. He is such a good man and he does not deserve to feel the shame of his son’s stupidity.”
“I completely agree. What have you done with the letter?”
“I put it in the Bible where Charles will never find it.”
“Perhaps you should burn it.”
“But what if she comes back? No, I want to keep it to show Charles if she does. She’ll not set foot in this house so long as I am alive.”
“Then perhaps I should take it. We do not want Claymore stumbling across it.”
“My dear, McKenna, you are such a dear friend.” Abigail went to the bookcase, removed the Bible and then pulled the letter out. At the smell, she turned up her nose and daintily handed it to McKenna. I can’t think how I shall ever get rid of that horrible perfume. It seems to be everywhere now.”
*
In the following months, Sheriff Thompson stopped asking the residents of Marblestone Mansion questions about the duchess, or the disappearance of Mrs. Whitfield. Charles continued to go with his father to the gold mines in Cripple Creek to learn the business. He gave up hoping Alexandra would turn up, let his mother pack her things away finally and Abigail had her housekeepers clean until the putrid perfume smell was gone.
The newest married couple at Marblestone Mansion spent more and more time together, and Dugan’s one kiss in the morning and one kiss at night made his wife want more. Beverly finally asked McKenna to ask her brother, if she could take her husband to one of the empty second floor bedrooms for the sake of privacy. Hannish saw no reason to object, and decided they should share that bedroom until another cottage could be built in spring. Therefore, after a very long and passionate kiss one evening, Beverly took her husband’s hand and led the way up to their new second floor bedroom.
After she knew him better, McKenna and Judge Nicholas Mitchel were married in a church, held their reception at Marblestone Mansion and took up residence in his home across the street from the courthouse. They put off their honeymoon until spring and it was just as well. On their wedding night, two feet of snow fell.
The next morning, Leesil and Cathleen became children once more and after years of being denied such pleasures in the orphanage, went out to play in the snow. They made their first snow angels and before long, the predictable snowball fight ensued.
Having McKenna gone took some getting used to and Hannish turned his attention to plans for the house at Palmer Lake. When weather permitted and after the property was purchased even without a doctor, he went several times to take note of what needed to be done, made sketches and made lists of what he needed.
While he kept busy, Leesil often rested her hand on her growing stomach and began to read all the new books in their library. Cathleen decided she loved history, as much as Beverly loved telling her about it. That is, when she wasn’t dreaming of being in love. Unless it was a particularly mild winter, her chances of spending time with those other than at Marblestone Mansion seemed slim. She feared her dreams might just have to wait until spring.
*
At last, it was Christmas. The dining room table was filled with every delight cook Halen and cook Jessie could think of to make. A tree was decorated with colorful paper angels, courtesy of Cathleen, who loved making them in the orphanage. And there were presents for all. With every stomach full to the brim, and the gifts opened, they sat in the parlor and discussed how to spend the rest of the evening.
For those who did not prefer to read, most long winter nights were spent playing cards, backgammon, chess, checkers, and billiards, but the power had gone off for the fifth night in a row, and now they sat in the soft yellow glow of candlelight. At least the wood Hannish chopped during their tumultuous year kept the parlor toasty warm.
“You could tell a MacGreagor story,” said Blanka. “I’ve not heard one since your Uncle passed.”
Hannish smiled. “I hope I remember them.”
“I remember,” said McKenna. “Tell the one about Glenna, that is my favorite.”
“Aye, Glenna. Well, ‘twas beyond a thousand years ago that the MacGreagors lived in the heart of Scotland. The Clan was under the rule of Laird Neil MacGreagor. He was a good lad, had just won an impossible battle with his brother for control of the clan, and needed a wife to give him sons so the blood of his father would continue on.
Glenna was the daughter of a powerful laird in the far north and her father desired her to marry a laird, although he had certain restrictions ---the laird must be blond and therefore look like a Viking, he must have a sense of humor, and he must fight him for the hand of his daughter. To find such a lad, Laird Lamont sent the storyteller, Ewing Larmont, and his mare, Clark. Clark gave birth to a sire which Ewing named Laura.”
Hannish paused until they finished giggling. “You see, the reverse names were to test a lad’s sense of humor, and not every lad thought it funny. In fact, most thought Ewing Lamont ridiculous. He dinna’ mind, he simply continued searching the whole of Scotland, until one day…”
*
McKenna glanced at the man sitting next to her. It was fun watching her husband absorb a story she had heard since she was little. It also felt good to have her hand in his, a feeling she hoped would last a lifetime. He was the perfect man for her, She grew to love him more each day and she was often thankful she had not married in Scotland.
“And now,” Hannish said when he finished the story. “I have a surprise for my wife and her lovely sister.”
“Lovely, is it?” Cathleen said, instantly suspicious.
“Would a letter from James please you?”
Cathleen’s eyes instantly lit up and when he produced the letter and handed it to Leesil, she quickly went to sit by her sister’s side.
“Dearest Leesil and Cathleen,” Leesil read. “I am well and I hear you are the same. I had call to visit the orphanage lately and you woulda think the saints be livin’ there now. ‘Tis all prettied up and clean as a whistle. I build weaving boards for Mr. Cameron MacGreagor and…”
A thrilled Leesil finished reading the letter and handed it to Cathleen. “Will Cameron bring him to see us next year?”
“If all goes well,” Hannish answered.
“We shall have a child by then and…”
“And I shall be married,” said Cathleen.”
“Married? You are only fifteen,” Leesil shot back.
“Sixteen, next month. Everyone else is married.”
“Except me,” said all the unmarried servants.
Leesil narrowed her eyes. “You will marry when I say, and not before.”
“Ladies,” Hannish said. “Shall we have our Christmas toast now? He raised his glass. “Here’s to a long, healthy life for us all, to the reelection of President McKinley, to James, and to all those we left in Scotland. God save Queen Victoria.”
“Here, here,” everyone said.
*
Less than a month later, word came that Queen Victoria had died, and although Hannish had only met her once, it was a sad day for the Scots. Her son was crowned King Edward VII, and when the monarchy changed, changes to the realm came soon after. Hopefully, there would be more good changes than bad.
CHAPTER 13
The duchess was wearing a simple green dress when she went to the St. Louis train station that next day. A long scarf hid her dark hair and she carried only one hatbox and a simple cloth satchel containing her old, and the new items she managed to buy. Taking care, she made certain Charles was not still looking for her there, went inside and bought a ticket on the next train. As luck would have it, the train was already taking on passengers, so she quickly wove her way through the crowd and climbed aboard. Even after she found her seat in coach, she crouched down and didn’t look out the window, just in case Charles was there after all.
At last, the train slowly pulled out of the station and began to pick up speed. Unfortunately, her train ha
d to go through Denver, so she had to remain hidden as best she could just in case Charles or one of those dreadful MacGreagors were onboard. It was the most tedious two days of her life.
It was not until the train left Denver that she finally relaxed. Little did she know, slowly crawling up the eastern side of the snow-covered Rocky Mountains would take another full day. Yet, once they crossed over and started down the other side, her life began to brighten. She discovered there was an empty Pullman, paid the price and took up residence in her own private compartment. Time well spent meant planning her new life and the first order of business was to choose a new name – one she had not used before.
The train took her through Salt Lake City and just before she arrived in San Francisco, she changed into more expensive clothing. She checked into an expensive San Francisco hotel under the name, Lady Eleanor Spaulding, pretended to need assistance in the lobby one evening, and soon made the acquaintance of men who began sending flowers, gifts and invitations to the best balls. That’s what she called feeling alive.
All she needed…was a rich, generous husband.
It was in that prestigious San Francisco hotel that she placed a call to her second husband, Mr. Sinclair. When Mr. Sinclair said George Graham was looking for her, Alexandra nearly ripped the telephone off the wall. Her first husband was not rotting away in a prison, nor was Scotland Yard looking for her. Once more, she had been tricked and by none other than Hannish MacGreagor. It took a full three days to get over her rage and she imagined all sorts of ways to get even with him. Unfortunately, she could not come up with a one that would keep her daughter out of the hands of Lord and Lady Bayington.
On the fifteenth of May, Lady Eleanor Spaulding of London, England, married Mr. John Nelson of San Francisco, California. She met him at a ball, to which she wore a pink velvet gown that set her dark hair off perfectly. It was designed a little too low in the bosom, which horrified some of the older women, but delighted more than one man. Her choice of dancing partners was not the handsomest of men, but it didn’t matter. He was in shipping, had money, and wanted a wife. She smiled her prettiest smile, waltzed across the room as though she weighed nothing at all, and ignored all the other men…whom she was certain, admired and wanted her.
Marblestone Mansion, Book 2 Page 20