Marblestone Mansion, Book 4

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Marblestone Mansion, Book 4 Page 10

by Marti Talbott


  “I see,” said Hannish. “Can you take them or will you be needin’ our help?”

  Much smaller than the two MacGreagors, Prescot took off his coat, handed it to Claymore, unbuttoned his cuffs and then pushed up his sleeves. “I’ve not had a good fight since the time we went to Colorado City.”

  “Nor have I,” Hannish admitted. He saw the surprise on Claymore’s face and explained. “Prescot used to fight in the ring back east before he came to us.”

  Sweet Suzie’s brothers still hadn’t wiped the grin off their faces. “Is we supposed to be scareder now?” the oldest one asked.

  That was the last thing he said before Prescot sent his first rapid succession jab into the stranger’s stomach. The next jab went to his eye and the last was an uppercut to the jaw. Seconds later, Suzie’s oldest brother lay sprawled out on the cobblestones.

  “Did he kill him?” Suzie asked, peeking around Hannish.

  “Indeed not, he is only out cold,” Prescot assured her.

  “There’s a pity,” said she.

  Prescot took his stand, raised his fists and glared at the two remaining brothers. “Which of you is next?” Just as he expected, the fainthearted younger brothers turned tail and ran.

  Suzie was so excited; she jumped up and down for joy. A crowd had gathered, but she didn’t care. She was free, finally, or would be when she took her seat on the train. She now had the money to build a decent reputation, one she dreamed of her whole life and her future looked brighter than ever.

  An hour later, Prescot took her to the train just in case her brothers tried again, bid her farewell and hurried home to attend the wedding.

  *

  Everything was happening so fast, Cathleen couldn’t seem to catch her breath. One moment, she was sitting in the swing in the backyard, dreaming of her prince, and the next minute, she was putting on a wedding dress. A trunk was packed with all she owned, except for what was in her travel bag, and had already been loaded on the back of the carriage that would take them to the train station.

  Margaret Ann was almost finished curling her auburn hair and it looked so wonderful, Cathleen decided to leave her new hat off and only wear the blue ribbon in her hair. She bought white ribbons when she was in town, but this one was far more special. It was the ribbon Leesil gave her when she first arrived at Marblestone Mansion, the one she gave to Cameron when he went off to fight the forest fire, and the same one he gave back when he came to make her his bride. Besides, she needed something blue.

  Leesil’s wedding dress, now hers, was a glorious white, with three graduating lengths of lace over satin, beginning at her waist and ending in a two-foot train in the back. The bodice was made of satin with a high neck, lace collar and short lace-over satin sleeves.

  When it was almost time, Cathleen shooed everyone out of her room, even her sister, and waited for Hannish to come get her. Still seated at her dressing table, she bowed her head and remembered to say a prayer of thanks. All her dreams were coming true and it was nearly impossible to believe.

  *

  There hadn’t been much time to decorate the Marblestone ballroom, but there were late blooming flowers on the tables where the guests were seated, and on the longer table that held the wedding cake the cooks managed to bake in time. As was the custom, the guests stood when Hannish escorted Cathleen into the room and walked her to her intended, to stand before the serious looking preacher. Cameron wore a shirt and kilt, with a measure of plaid cloth other his heart and one shoulder. The shoes, handed down through the ages, had leather straps that laced up to his knees, and once again, both brothers were amazed that the ancient clothes fit perfectly.

  Pastor Brown had a long white beard, wore black trousers with a high collar jacket, a thread of a tie and held a small prayer book in his hands. Once he began, it wasn’t hard to tell he’d memorized the words and the prayer book was just something to hold.

  It was there, on that day that Cameron MacGreagor; Duke of Glenartair, gave his pledge of love and cherish Cathleen Covington, a young woman raised in an orphanage. The English might find a lot wrong with that, but Cameron didn’t care. He listened to her pledge, put the ring on her finger and then kissed his bride.

  As soon as Shepard and Brookton finished offering glasses of the very best wine to everyone, Hannish raised his glass, “A toast to the Duke and Duchess of Glenartair. May they forever be as happy as I am!” He drank his toast, put his arm around Leesil and kissed her.

  The small crowd cheered and applauded, and then the cake was cut and served. Shepard played a waltz on his violin and the young couple happily shared their first formal dance together. Before long, everyone joined in the dancing and appeared to be having a grand time.

  *

  For just a moment, butler Prescot left his post at the front door and went to the ballroom to see if the guests were being well cared for. As he had asked her to do, Gretchen stood near the back wall watching Mr. Swinton and Paulette. “Have you anything to report?” he whispered, walking up beside her with his hands clasped behind his back.

  “He’s a sly one, I’ll give him that. He is very attentive to Miss Paulette, but he often holds the eyes of the other women in the room, whether they are married or not.”

  “How do they respond?” Prescot asked.

  “Some smile and some look away. Miss Cathleen is right; he’ll not be faithful to any wife for long.”

  *

  The duchess was set free, at last.

  The world outside the governor’s office seemed bright and new, as she walked down the busy Denver street and headed straight for the nearest shop. She had nothing save the clothes on her back, not even a purse to put her one thousand American dollars in. She could remedy that quickly enough and darted through a shop doorway. She purchased a hand-beaded purse with fringe on the bottom, put her small fortune in it, and then asked where she might buy a traveling case.

  The duchess happily went from store to store, purchasing a traveling case, a new hat complete with a hatbox, long stockings to keep her feet warm, undergarments, a new blouse and a skirt with a length that pleased her. There was nothing in the world she loved better than spending money, and when she got hungry, she ordered a longed for hearty meal in the restaurant nearest the train station.

  The only thing she did not buy right off was a new gun with a leg holster. She thought about it - she thought about it long and hard, but decided against it. Soon she would be out of the west and then out of the country. Not only that, if she ran into that same conductor, she might be tempted to shoot him a second time. Attempted murder, indeed!

  Of course, there was that other matter to consider.

  All through her meal, she contemplated if she should contact Sweet Suzie at their arranged meeting place, or simply get on the next eastbound train. Had Claymore Whitfield actually paid the money, Sweet Suzie would be a very wealthy woman by now and the Duchess sure could use her share of the bounty.

  On the other hand, several things could have gone wrong. Her plan was not as perfect as she thought and she realized that now. Suzie might have lost her nerve, Claymore might have refused to pay or worse, Suzie’s brothers might have found her. It would be just the duchess’ luck to have to deal with Sweet Suzie’s lazy brothers. She would miss her share of Claymore’s money, after devising such a delicious plan, but it could not be helped.

  She glanced out the window at the wretched Colorado Rocky Mountains. She never did see why everyone thought they were so magnificent. They were just gigantic rocks sticking out of the ground and she would be happy never to see them again. No, getting on the train a soon as possible was her best choice. The longer she stayed in Colorado, the more she had to fear. Who knew when riffraff from Marblestone Mansion might find her?

  Of course, there were just as many people in England to worry about. There was Lord Bayington, Cameron MacGreagor and worse, her first husband George Graham. Running into him was something to worry about, to be sure.

  Once mor
e, she thought about Jedediah Tanner. How she longed to be in his arms. He deserved what was coming to him after stealing her money and her jewels, but oh how she loved him still. It was of him she was thinking when she bought a ticket to New York, by way of Kansas City and waited for the next train.

  This time, fortune found her before anyone else did. The eastbound train arrived on time, she happily boarded it, was taken to her Pullman car by a conductor she had never seen before, and happily settled in for the long journey east.

  “Good bye, Jedediah,” she whispered as the train pulled out of Denver, the place where she met and married the true love of her life.

  *

  Too soon, it was time to leave the wedding party, change into their street clothing and board the carriage to catch the train to Denver. Before they left, Cathleen hugged Abigail and Claymore, all her new cousins and then turned her attention to the servants. Beginning with butler Prescot, she had a special word for each, kissed them on the cheek and moved on to the next. She was especially sad to leave the elder Blanka, who was more like a grandmother to the sisters than a servant.

  Cathleen hugged Margaret Ann last. “I give you over to care for Elizabeth now, if you are willing.”

  “I am willing,” Margaret Ann answered, fighting back her tears.

  “Good. Will you write to me?”

  “I will.”

  Cathleen leaned down to hug little William and then ruffled Traitor’s ears.

  “That’s what I forgot to tell you,” Cameron said. “Blair now has a dog.”

  Cathleen smiled and put her hand in his as they walked to the carriage. As if committing it to memory, she turned to take a long look at the mansion, and then let Cameron help her climb into the carriage. Hannish and Leesil were already seated across from the newlyweds and both of them smiled.

  Cameron tapped on the door to let Egan know they were ready and then put his arm around his bride. “How long until they cry?” Cameron asked Hannish.

  Hannish glanced at his wife. “‘Twill not be long now, I wager.”

  Leesil clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth and then ignored both brothers. “You must give Blair our love,” she said, taking her sister’s hand.

  “I will,” Cathleen answered. “I am so excited to be her mother.”

  “You will be the very best of mothers. And James, will you give him a hug for me?”

  “Of course, and Alistair and Sarah too.”

  “There, you see,” said Hannish. “Half our family will be there waiting for her. Alistair will not let anything happen to Cathleen.”

  “I know,” Leesil said. She was finding it almost impossible to hold back her tears, but she managed to somehow.

  They talked about the dance Abigail planned to give to welcome the new MacGreagors, laughed about the envy Leesil saw in Pearl’s eyes and even mentioned the coming wedding for Margaret Ann and Keith. Yet, at the train station, the goodbye for Leesil and her sister brought a flood of tears to their eyes.

  “Scotland is so far away,” Leesil sobbed, her arms wrapped tight around her little sister.

  “I shall not be here when Justin learns to walk,” Cathleen cried.

  Hannish put his arm around Cathleen too. “I promise I shall bring Leesil and Justin to you in summer.”

  “Perhaps you might move back?” Cathleen hopefully asked.

  Cameron put his arm around Leesil. “And we shall come the next year, I promise. You both may call as often as you like.” Cameron hugged his sister-in-law and then said, “Come wife, before the train leaves without us.”

  Leesil hugged Cathleen one more time. “I lied, I shall miss you terribly.”

  “Me too,” Cathleen admitted.

  Hannish shook his brother’s hand, “Take very good care of her.”

  “I intend to,” Cameron said, letting go and taking Cathleen’s hand.

  They got aboard just as the train whistle blew. As the train slowly began to move, there was nothing left for Hannish and Leesil to say or do, except watch the black smoke begin to belch out of the engine’s tall smokestack. Leesil stayed in her husband’s arms, watched until it was out of sight, and then began to weep.

  In one swift movement, Hannish leaned down, scooped her up and carried his crying wife back to the carriage. “Shall you cry for a week, do you suppose?” He smiled when she nodded.

  *

  A few days later, and very late at night, Prescot burst through the back door and ran through the house. He took the front steps two at a time and then yanked Leesil and Hannish’s bedroom door open. “It is time.”

  “Time for what?” A sleepy, bewildered Hannish asked, struggling to sit up.

  “For the baby!” Prescot nearly shouted.

  “What am I to do about it?” Hannish asked, but by then, Prescot was gone.

  Leesil giggled and sat up. “He is worse than you.”

  “I was not that out of my wits when Justin was born.”

  “Oh, no? Then why did you have the cooks make potato soup in the middle of the night?”

  “Oh, that.” Hannish yawned and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I hope he remembered to call the doctor.”

  “We best go see.”

  He watched his wife go through the door to her adjoined bedroom and tilted his head to one side. “‘Twas the best potato soup I have ever had for breakfast.”

  Millie gave birth to a healthy baby girl. The next day, everyone in the Marblestone household came to the cottage in the back to congratulate the proud parents and take a peek at the baby.

  Standing together outside, Hannish looked almost as exhausted as Prescot. “Millie looks well. What does the doctor say?”

  “He says she is fine,” Prescot answered. “I hated seeing her in such pain.”

  “Aye, I know what you mean. You do know you shall not get much sleep for the next month or two.”

  “I have heard that complaint from you often enough,” Prescot admitted rolling his eyes. The air outside was beginning to chill a little, so he pulled his coat tighter at the collar and buttoned it.

  “I’ll have Shepard take your duties until you are rested.”

  “Thank you.” Prescot watched the two younger sisters, Janna and Mary hurry back to the main house, but it wasn’t until Paulette passed that he remembered. “Mr. Hannish, Gretchen came to me. She does not trust Mr. Swinton.”

  “How so?”

  “He…she finds something about him disturbing.”

  “Has he done anything to alarm her?”

  “No, it is just something she feels.”

  “I see. Thank you for telling me. We truly know little about the lad. Perhaps I should make some inquiries.”

  “Before Miss Paulette agrees to marry him?”

  “Aye.”

  *

  That night, when it was finally time to retire for the evening, Hannish got into bed and waited for Leesil. She was still seated at the dressing table, brushing her hair. “Sweetheart, am I mistaken, or is our son trying to crawl?”

  “You are not mistaken,” she smiled at her husband’s reflection in the mirror. “He’ll need a lot more watching from now on.”

  “Indeed he will.”

  “Are you very upset that Abigail wants to hold her dance in our ballroom?”

  “I quite fancy the idea. Why would you think it upset me?” Hannish asked.

  “No reason, I just wanted to make sure you dinna object. Abigail sometimes supposes instead of asking permission, you are aware.”

  “True, but you needn’t worry. I will say if I object to somethin’ she does. Just now, I am reminded. What do you think of Mr. Swinton?”

  “Cathleen said Cameron does not trust him in the least, although she does not know why. I think he feared Mr. Swinton would marry Cathleen before he could come back.”

  “Aye, well a little competition is good for any lad.”

  She turned to look at him. “Why do you ask about Mr. Swinton?”

  “Prescot said
Gretchen questions his character. She does not know what she finds disturbin’, ‘tis just a feelin’.”

  Leesil put her brush down, got up and slipped into bed beside her husband. “‘Tis a bit odd that he first pursues Cathleen, and then Paulette, when there are plenty of other lasses in town who prefer him.”

  “Perhaps he seeks a Scottish wife,” Hannish said, putting his arms around her.

  “Not all Swintons are Scottish.”

  “What then?”

  “Does it not follow that he wants a MacGreagor wife – one that would bring him closer to your money?”

  “Our money,” he corrected. Her question gave him pause to consider that possibility. It was no secret that a great deal of money often brought out the worst in some people. After all, they had just saved a friend from a disaster that would never have been thought of, if Claymore were not a wealthy man. Hannish meant to think about the Swinton question a little more, but as soon as he closed his eyes, he fell fast asleep.

  CHAPTER 7

  The Whitfield mansion had everything Abigail could ever want, except a ballroom. Therefore, when she decided to give a dance to welcome all the new MacGreagors to Colorado, she thought nothing of commandeering the MacGreagor ballroom.

  Since it was autumn, a fall theme was only natural and there was plenty for everyone to do. She bought pumpkins, gourdes, and various kinds of squash to place on gold and yellow leaves, in the center of tables arranged against the wall. She sent servants to fetch this and that, and then changed her mind about nearly everything several times.

  She filled the smoking room with plenty of cigars and cigarettes, made certain there were sprits for the men, where the women couldn’t see them taking a nip or two, and hired the best orchestra Colorado Springs had to offer.

  By the time she was finished, she was thrilled with her handiwork and just in time too, for she barely had five minutes left to run upstairs and change before the guests began to arrive.

  Abigail wasn’t tired at all. Everyone else was exhausted.

  There were, of course, those who arrived early and one of them was Mr. Douglas Swinton. He was dressed in his elegant clothing just as he always was, and had not forgotten to bring his cane gun. “Careful, it is loaded,” he whispered as he handed it to butler Prescot.

 

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