Marblestone Mansion, Book 2
Page 21
John Nelson showered her with more expensive jewels than she ever imagined, set up the kind of bottomless accounts for her in all the right stores and for the most part, she was happy – as happy as the duchess could be, that is. George Graham did not know where she was, could not blackmail her any longer, and her new husband even made her laugh occasionally. At least he was not boring or witless like Charles. In fact, she even liked John a little and decided the past should stay in the past, right where it belonged.
That was, of course, until she spotted an announcement in a Denver paper. John had papers sent from all over the country to their magnificent mansion on a San Francisco hillside. He said it was to keep track of who was building what where. She read none of them on a regular basis, but that morning, as she sat alone at the breakfast table, she picked up a Denver paper and read it out of curiosity.
There is was and the duchess stared at it in disbelief for nearly a full minute without blinking.
*
Mr. and Mrs. Hannish MacGreagor announce the birth of their first child, a boy, born May 5th…
*
She counted the months backwards and there was no mistake – Hannish got married around the same time she married Charles, and his wife was already pregnant by the time Alexandra landed in America. “So that is what he was hiding,” she muttered.
Now, he had a son -- the son she should have given him. Had it happened according to her plan, she would still be a duchess living a glorious life in her rightful place in London society. John could give her all the money she wanted, but he couldn’t give her a title. The fault for that lay squarely on the shoulders of Hannish MacGreagor.
She let Hannish get off too easily; she could see that now.
*
Nearly a month after his son was born; an unexpected letter arrived at Marblestone Mansion. Alone in his study, Hannish stared at the envelope for a long moment. He knew the handwriting very well and with great trepidation, he opened the envelope and unfolded the one page letter.
Congratulations, Darling.
All my love,
Olivia
~ The End~
Marblestone Mansion Book 3 (preview)
CHAPTER 1
Until that day, Cameron MacGreagor had not thought of his Scottish castle as being cold and uninviting. He, his older brother, Hannish, and their little sister, McKenna, practically grew up there, and the place was constantly filled with family and friends. That was before their Uncle died, Hannish became the duke and had the misfortune of marrying the wrong woman, whom he made his duchess. The title of duke came with few funds, so Hannish went to America, made his fortune in silver and stayed there.
For three long years, ‘the bad years,’ Cameron called them, the duchess lived in the castle. At last, Hannish rid them of the duchess, Cameron became the duke, found a love of his own and the bad years became very, very good again. His wife loved entertaining, the place overflowed with friends and he desperately loved her for it.
Yet, on a cold February night, all that changed.
A month later, Cameron was as lost as a man could be. At six foot, five inches, he was just as big as centuries of MacGreagor men had been, with dark wavy hair and bright blue eyes. He sat in a chair staring at the dying embers in the hearth, and sipped the glass of wine Lord Bayington handed him.
Lord Edward Bayington poured a second glass of wine for himself and then sat in a nearby chair. “What troubles you most?” Edward asked. He was closer in age to Hannish, but he liked Cameron too, and always had. Edward had green eyes and it appeared he was going prematurely bald, although his wife assured him he was more handsome that way. He thought bald men with beards looked unbecoming and therefore kept himself clean-shaven.
The answer to Edward’s question haunted Cameron and he was glad to finally share it with someone. “I should have been with Flora when she died. She often woke in the night, which always woke me, so that night she insisted I get a full night’s rest. She went to sleep in another room and I let her. I had an odd feeling, a forebodin’ if you will, but I dismissed it.”
“Even if you had been with her, you could not have saved her or the baby.”
“So the doctor said. He claims she had a stroke and went peacefully in her sleep. I pray he is right.”
“I have heard of that happening to pregnant women.”
“Have you? I had not.” Cameron took another sip and set his glass on the end table. “It is very kind of Lady Bayington to pack Flora’s things away for me. I tried, but could not bear it.”
“My wife loves you, as do we all, and she is honored to be of assistance.” Edward watched as Cameron got up and added another log to the fire. Lord Bayington and his wife attended the funeral, but he had to return to London and they didn’t have much time to talk. It was better to let Cameron grieve for a time before they came back to Scotland anyway. Even now, there was little he could do or say to comfort his old friend, so he decided to change the subject. “Do you still intend to sail to America this summer?”
“I booked our passage in December and I see no reason not to go.”
“It will do you good to get away for a while. Stay for a time. I can check on the place and your man at the shop knows who to call if he needs anything.”
“You are very kind. Perhaps I will stay a month or two.” Cameron finished with the log and took a long look at what had always been his favorite sitting room. The furnishings were relatively new with ample chairs, paintings, oak tables, electric lamps and vases filled with flowers. “This room was once called the ‘great hall.’”
“Was it? Do you mean this is…?”
“Aye, this is the Keep where my ancestors married, fought and died. The walls were once covered with magnificent tapestries, along with some of these same weapons.” He picked up the iron stocker, moved the log a little farther back and then waited to make certain it caught fire.
“I have always wondered why this room is oblong rather than square,” said Edward.
“My uncle said a long table ran down the center, and Scotland’s finest fighters sat in tall-backed chairs, eatin’, drinkin’ and plannin’ their wars…or so the stories go. The original structure burned after one bout or another with the English, which enraged the MacGreagors. So they built the next Keep on the same spot, only out of stones that would not burn. Then they added enough rooms to house the entire clan.”
“Until one day, it became a castle.”
For the first time in weeks, Cameron smiled. “Aye.” He walked to the far wall, carefully took hold of a sword in a well-worn, ancient sheath and took it down. “The eldest son usually became the next Laird and the keeper of the old stories, although a few tales are lost to us. The glen outside is where the MacGreagors and the MacClurgs joined clans.”
“I believe I have heard that story. Did you not tell it at a dinner a few years ago?”
“Aye, ‘twas Kadick’s story.”
“That’s right, Kadick with the birthmark. How many are left in the MacGreagor Clan these days?”
“Not many, leastwise not many still in Scotland. The livin’ has been hard; some have gone to Ireland, some to Scandinavia and of course, to America.” He walked back to his chair, sat down, put the sword across his lap and took another sip of his wine. “You have not heard this story, I wager.” Cameron set his drink down and carefully began to untie the rotting leather strings that held the sheath to the handle. “I was nearly thirteen when I first took notice of the weapons. This one is lost.”
Edward wrinkled his brow. “Lost?”
“‘Tis a lie we MacGreagors tell to keep it safe from the world. There was a legend too, though I do not quite remember how it went – somethin’ about taking a pledge to return it to the MacGreagor laird, if ever it was found. I shall ask Hannish, he will remember.”
“Your brother is, of course, the clan’s laird.”
“Aye and ‘tis a good thing. He is much better at keepin’ the stories than I. My uncle had b
ut six daughters and no sons, so all of this passed to Hannish and then to me. Uncle once said, ‘All we ever really have in this life is family.’ I see now what he meant. I have many fond memories of him and of my parents before they were killed in the head-on train crash. Perhaps someday, when this heart of mine has healed, I shall have only fond memories of Flora.”
Once more, Lord Bayington thought it best to change the subject. “Is there more to the story about this sword?”
“There is. At one point, the Kennedy clan thought to fight the MacGreagors for it, but that came later. ‘Twas in the midst of a war with the MacDonalds, that it was given to a lass named Steppen, who somehow got separated from the clan. It was she, who found this glen, yet there was no way to tell the clan where she was, except to let strangers see the sword. It worked. Word of it spread across Scotland in record time.” Finally finished untying the straps, Cameron carefully began to slide the sheath off the sword. The golden blade instantly caught the firelight and brilliantly glistened.
Lord Bayington’s eyes grew large. “Good heavens, have you had that appraised?”
“I cannae, ‘tis lost.”
Edward couldn’t help but chuckle. “Do you mean to tell me, the duchess lived here for three years and did not discover it?”
“I assure you, the only walls the duchess ever looked at were the ones with mirrors.”
Edward roared with laughter. “I can believe that. What a fine joke. There is nothing that woman likes more than gold.”
“And husbands.”
“How true. I wonder where she’s got off to these days.”
“America still, I hope.”
“As do I. I believe we would have heard if she was back.”
“Do you suppose she has married again?” Cameron asked.
“I do not doubt it. Husband number six…the poor man.”
“The poor lad, indeed.”
Two days later, Cameron received a letter from America. It simply said:
Your Grace,
The flowers will bloom again.
Cathleen
He thought it odd at the time, folded it, put it back in the envelope, tossed it on his writing desk, and promptly forgot about it.
*
As winter turned to spring, Cameron filled his days with work. His property was forever in need of improvement, which was made somewhat easier with the use of new and better equipment the world seemed to be turning out at record speed. His loom building and repair business continued to grow, as did the cotton mills that needed the looms, and that too kept him busy.
Then a telephone call in the night changed his world once more.
(end of preview)
Read book 3-6 of the Marblestone Mansion Series, Learn more at www.martitalbott.com
More Marti Talbott Books
Pick up Marti’s latest book – The Billionaire’s Will – a clean mystery/romance.
Marti Talbott’s Highlander Series, (books 1 – 13) is a continuing saga that spans four MacGreagor generations, and sees them through plagues, wars, kidnappings, poisonings, and the day-to-day challenges of love and survival.
The first five books contain twenty short stories, while the rest are complete novels. They include: Betrothed, Book 6, The Golden Sword, Book 7, Abducted, Book 8, A Time of Madness, Book 9, Triplets, Book 10, Secrets, Book 11, Choices, Book 12, Ill-Fated Love Book 13, and The Other Side of the River, Book 14.
The Viking was written after the first twenty short stories, yet it is a prequel that explains how the clan came into being.
Marti’s Marblestone Mansion (Scandalous Duchess Series) follows the MacGreagor clan into Colorado’s early 20th century.
Other Marti Talbott Books include: The Promise, (Carson Series, Book 1), Broken Pledge, (Carson Series, Book 2), and Seattle Quake 9.2.
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Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
~ The End~
Marblestone Mansion Book 3 (preview)
CHAPTER 1
(end of preview)
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