Marblestone Mansion, Book 6

by Marti Talbott

  “Couldn’t be much colder there than it is here in winter.”

  “I do not think he knew that when he set out.”

  Tom chuckled. “Did he turn right around and go back?”

  “He stayed fifteen years and tried his hand at farming, much to my mother’s irritation. Father just wasn’t a farmer and there was more work for a blacksmith in Illinois, so they went back.”

  “And left you here alone?”

  “I lived on the farm with my brother until he got married last year. My brother loves the farm and he is very good at growing things. Where are you from?”

  “Back east as well.”

  “Where back east?” she asked.

  “Missouri.”

  “Did your family drag you out west too?”

  “No, they stayed in Missouri. I’ve been meaning to go back to visit, but I keep putting it off.”

  “Afraid you might miss something wonderful here?” she teased.

  “Terrified.” He turned his head away so she couldn’t see his grin, and didn’t notice that she did the same.

  “Any brothers and sisters?” she asked at length.

  Tom hesitated to answer, but decided something vague would do. “Two brothers, three sisters, and a whole passel of cousins. I believe I have at least one cousin living in nearly every state and territory in America.”

  “I too have many cousins, but I know not where they are now. The Oklahoma Territory hopes to become a state soon, as does the New Mexico Territory. Which do you think will be the first?”

  “I cannot guess.”

  Madeline giggled. “Nor can I.”

  “Madeline, I hate to ask, but Mr. Hannish will ask me. Did you happen to see Mr. Swinton this morning?”

  “I meant to tell you that first thing. I saw him come out of his house, and what do you think? He kissed his wife goodbye. I suppose that is still more confirmation that they have set things right between them.”

  “For Mrs. Swinton’s sake, I hope they have. Mrs. Whitfield says the father of Miss Green’s baby has given a full confession. He even cried over the untimely death of his child.”

  “He didn’t seem to care when Miss Green was alive.”

  “Some people do not cherish what they have until they lose it.”

  Tom guided the horse around a large clump of hay that had fallen off a wagon. “That is true.”

  “Do you think Mr. Hannish will let me work at Marblestone, now that I no longer need to watch Mr. Swinton?”

  “That is what he promised.”

  Madeline took a deep breath and slowly exhaled her relief. “What a happy day that shall be. I loathe working at the café, and I would like nothing better than to tell the cook precisely what I think of her.”

  “She’ll not soon find anyone as capable as you.”

  A little embarrassed by his compliment, she sweetly smiled. “Why thank you, Mr. Tom Boland.”

  “You need not call me Mr. Tom Boland. Mr. Boland will do just as well.”

  She rolled her eyes and playfully slapped his arm.

  *

  By the time Tom and Madeline arrived at the park, everyone was already there, and a dinner of fried chicken, buttered biscuits, raw carrots, and baked potatoes had been set out under the welcome shade of the trees. Tom introduced her to Cook Halen and Cook Jessie, Prescot’s wife Millie, Ronan, Dugan and his wife Beverly, Brookton, Shepard, Harriet, Leslie, Keith and his wife, Margaret Ann, Ruth, Marie, Bessie, Grace, and Gretchen, the seamstress.

  When he looked, Leesil stood in front of a bench with her hands on her hips, glaring at him. He pretended to know he was in a world of trouble and rushed Madeline to her. “Miss Leesil, I beg your forgiveness, for you are the most important person I know.”

  “Indeed I am,” Leesil agreed.

  “I present for your approval, Miss Madeline Foster.”

  “Miss Foster,” said Leesil, “we best have a very long talk. Our Mr. Boland has committed a grave error in not bringin’ you to me first, for I am indeed very important. At least, ‘tis what I tell my husband repeatedly.”

  Madeline smiled. “I have heard much about the MacGreagors and I am pleased to meet you at last.”

  “Our Tom is a good lad, who best be off getting you somethin’ to eat.”

  Tom came to attention, stiffly bowed and then headed for the food. In a flash, he came back with a plate filled to the brim only to find both Madeline and Leesil shaking their heads. With all eyes on him, Tom shrugged, sat down on the bench, and began to eat.

  Everyone laughed.

  The MacGreagors tried not to look too pleased, but everyone was very happy that Tom had found someone. The Whitfields brought their servants, McKenna and the Judge brought theirs and the judge’s legal secretary, Glenn, and his wife, Suzanna. The children played, the older girls constantly giggled, especially Moan’s three daughters, the adults talked, and a good time was being had by all.

  Sitting on a blanket on the grass after they had eaten with Leesil, Elizabeth, and McKenna, Abigail was thrilled to share her good news of the day, “Our dear Loretta called…finally. She is deliriously happy now that her husband has been absolved of all wrongdoing. Claymore doesn’t believe a word of it. Do you, Leesil?”

  “I…” Leesil tried.

  “Why would Miss Green say he was the father if he was not?” Abigail asked.

  Married to the judge, with whom the sheriff often shared a confidence, meant McKenna had a good idea of what Sharon Green had said. She shouldn’t have, but she said it anyway. “Perhaps she loved the real father and sought to protect him by namin’ another.”

  Abigail was completely taken aback and it took her a moment to think it through. “She loved the real father. Yes, indeed, that would explain it, but why protect him…unless he was already married. I wonder who is…or I should say, was the father?”

  “I doubt we shall ever know,” McKenna answered, sincerely sorry she said anything at all.

  “If she sought to protect the real father, and I must say a most contemptible culprit, then she needed someone to blame it on, and…why not accuse a man who has plenty of money?” Abigail’s eyes widened. “Good heavens, she might have accused my Claymore just as easily. The mere thought makes me tremble. I am saved…we are all saved, for each of us has a wealthy husband.”

  “Mine is but a judge,” McKenna reminded her.

  “And mine is but a secretary,” Elizabeth added.

  “Well, Hannish is your brother, McKenna, and your cousin, Elizabeth. It is just the same as having a wealthy husband. Tell me, McKenna, would Hannish pay a ransom if the judge’s reputation was about to be ruined? I wonder…I wonder if Miss Green…” Abigail suddenly caught her breath, “No, no, that cannot be right. Mr. Swinton would have paid to keep Miss Green quiet, I am certain of it. My Claymore must be correct; Miss Green was telling the truth.”

  “The father of Miss Green’s baby or not, you must admit it is possible Mr. Swinton truly loves Loretta,” said Leesil. “You said yourself, he would have paid the ransom to keep Miss Green from ruinin’ his marriage.”

  “Love Loretta? Preposterous.”

  “Why, why is it preposterous?” Leesil asked.

  “Because she is…well, she is...” Abigail lowered her gaze. “Stranger things have happened, I suppose.”

  “Indeed they have,” Leesil managed to say before Abigail could resume.

  “Yet, he married her in such a hurry as to cause great doubt. He did not even court her.”

  “We do not know that,” McKenna said. “Some in this town are very good at keepin’ secrets.”

  “My dearest, Abigail,” Leesil went on, “can we not just be happy for Loretta? Whatever else there may be between them, I am convinced she truly loves her husband.”

  “I suppose she must, the way she has protected him,” said Abigail. “You are right, but now we must endure his company again. Oh, how I hate the very sight of him, but I do hope they shall be, I mean she shall be, gloriously
happy. I wonder if Pearl has heard from Loretta yet. I must speak to her directly. Oh, I do hope Pearl is at the baseball game. Otherwise, I must wait until we are home to call her. Do you suppose…”

  *

  The hottest part of the day slowly began to cool as the sun moved closer to where it would finally disappear behind Pikes Peak, and at last, it was time to head to the ballgame.

  It being the team’s first year, the ballpark was nothing to brag about, yet it had long, stair step wooden benches with iron columns for support. To keep the balls from rolling too far away, tall fences had been constructed in the back, and on both sides in the shape of half an octagon.

  “Do you see what I see?” Claymore asked Hannish as they took seats beside each other.

  Hannish looked at the advertisement painted on the back fence. “Swinton Homes…how very cunnin’ of him.”

  “Cunning indeed. I wonder what it would cost to paint over his advertisement with one of our own?”

  “I believe, I might just ask,” said Hannish.

  The Colorado Springs Millionaires looked sleek and professional in their caps and white striped uniforms, with the letters ‘CS’ on the back. Their collective batting average was still a bit lower than it needed to be, but all hope was not lost. Two teenage boys were set to take turns climbing the ladder, when it came time to change the score and the inning, on a large chalkboard.

  It was the biggest crowd the Colorado Springs Millionaires had ever seen and in the middle of it sat Tom and Madeline, with Hannish and Leesil, Claymore and Abigail seated on the bench right behind them.

  Madeline turned around and grinned. “This is my very first game.”

  “Then you are in for a treat, my dear,” Claymore said.

  Everyone cheered when the teams, even the one from Pueblo, came onto the field, so she joined them. Madeline watched closely as the pitcher wound up, threw the ball and hit the batter in the leg. She stood up and began to cheer, until Tom took hold of her waist and sat her back down. “What?” she asked. “He hit him with the ball, is that not a good thing?”

  Claymore huffed, stood up, stepped between Tom and Madeline and wedged himself between them. “He is not supposed to hit the batter. The batter is supposed to hit the ball with his bat, you see.”

  “Oh.” She studied the next pitch, turned her head in unison with the crowd and watched the batter hit the ball high in the air. Again, her head moved in unison with the crowd as two men in the outfield ran to catch it at the same time. They smashed right into each other and neither caught the ball, which caused the crowd to cringe and then moan.

  “I did not know this game was so dangerous,” said Madeline.

  “It is not meant to be,” Claymore admitted. The ball dropped to the ground, a third man grabbed it and threw it to the second baseman, who promptly missed it.

  Madeline was confused. “The batter is running, but no one is chasing him. What does he run from?”

  “No, no, my dear,” said Claymore. “He is not running from – he is running to. The batter must run from base to base without getting tagged.”

  “Tagged?” Madeline asked.

  Tom leaned forward until he could see around Claymore. “Touched by the ball.”

  Madeline laughed. “I see. They must hit him with the ball while he is running, not while he is standing still. That will be a challenge.”

  Claymore removed his hat, shoved his graying hair back and put it on again. “My dear, they are not supposed to throw the ball at the batter. You see, the batter must hit the ball with his bat before he can run. The other team must then catch the ball, and touch the batter with it before he gets to one of those white squares on the field. Those are called bases.”

  “Bases…and that is why it is called base-ball. I’ve got it now, Mr. Whitfield.”

  “You are a clever girl,” Claymore mumbled. He stood up, stepped up one row and sat back down between his wife and Hannish. “She’s got it now,” he told Abigail.

  The very next pitch proved him wrong.

  The batter hit the ball all right, just not in the right direction, and when he didn’t run, Madeline wrinkled her forehead. “What can the matter be now?”

  “‘Tis a foul ball,” Hannish tried to explain.

  “It smells?” Madeline asked. “No wonder the batter wants to hit it away and no one wants to catch it.”

  If he didn’t adore her before, Tom did now. All the MacGreagors were laughing and that was a sign of approval. Not that he needed their approval, but it certainly would make it easier when he finally got up the nerve to propose marriage. He hoped they would live together in one of the cottages behind Marblestone Mansion, and he couldn’t think of a finer life for either of them. That is, if he got up the nerve, and if she accepted him. First, he had to tell her about his past, and he was still not convinced she would understand.

  Hannish tapped Madeline on the shoulder. “Is it not time for you to live at Marblestone?”

  Madeline quickly turned to look back and grinned. “Is today too soon?”

  “Not too soon for me, is it too soon for you, Mrs. MacGreagor?”

  Leesil put a finger on the side of her face and pretended to be thinking it over. “Well, I’ll put up with no tom…foolery. He must not have her out after dark without a chaperone, and if he is to get her home before dark, Tom best leave now.”

  “In the middle of the game?” Hannish asked.

  Claymore winked at Leesil, “I doubt he shall suffer too terribly.”

  “I certainly shall not,” Tom said as he stood up and offered his hand to Madeline. She excitedly took it and held on as the two of them hurried down the bleachers and disappeared around the corner.

  “Ah, young love,” Claymore sighed.

  CHAPTER 8

  All the way back to Palmer Lake, Madeline practiced exactly what she would say to the cook, who shouted orders and watched Madeline’s every move with an evil eye. In the end, she simply said, “I quit,” rushed back out of the café before the cook could protest, and got back in the carriage. Next, they went to her boarding house, where Tom waited outside while she packed her things. She took one last look around the small room, blew it a kiss, and rushed back to the carriage.

  The rumor of her leaving spread quickly and before Tom got her belongings loaded, some of the townspeople had already gathered.

  “Are you getting married?” a woman shouted.

  “I have found employment elsewhere, is all,” Madeline answered.

  “Where?” a man asked.

  “At Marblestone Mansion.”

  “We shall miss you terribly,” another woman said.

  Madeline gave the woman a hug. “I shall come to visit as often as I can.” She turned away, let Tom help her in, and then waved as he drove her away. “There, that is finished,” she sighed once they were out of town.

  “Have you seen Marblestone?”

  “Not yet, I have had little time for anything but work, reading, and a trip to town now and then to do some shopping. I hear there are several mansions I have yet to see.”

  “Marblestone is the most impressive. It is enormous and you’ll likely get lost at first, but there are plenty of us to show you the way.”

  “What sort of work do you think I shall be doing?”

  “Butler Prescot will assign you to something. Everyone hates the laundry, so we take turns. The maids and the housekeepers do the wash and the footmen carry the baskets out to the line. You will most likely be asked to keep a certain part of the mansion clean, at least at first.”

  “And later?”

  “If you tell Mr. Prescot what you like doing, or conversely hate doing, he will try to accommodate you. Just now, we are using all available water to keep the grass green and I carry it out after everyone bathes. I like that assignment, for I like watching things grow.”

  “So do I, and I shall be pleased with anything other than serving meals to ungrateful people. And, if I had to listen to Mrs. Walters complain
about her cow getting out of the barn one more time, I would surely go mad. You have saved me, Mr. Boland, and I thank you.”

  “You mean Mr. Hannish has saved you.”

  “True. Now, tell me what I must not do at Marblestone.”

  “Well, we have one Scottish and one American cook. Normally, they get along quite well, and take turns running the kitchen, but we are all careful not to say one meal is better than another. I have heard that in the beginning, they had a contest to see which was the better cook, and tried to get the servants to judge.”

  “Oh dear, there is no way to win that war, not for the servants anyway. What else?”

  “We address Mr. Hannish and Miss Leesil formally when there are guests in the house. Mr. Moan and Miss Elizabeth are newly arrived, with their six children, and oh, I best warn you about young Mr. Wade. He wants to be a sheriff and captures outlaws at every opportunity.”

  “Outlaws?”

  He smiled. “That would be anyone within reach.”

  “I see, captures them how?”

  “He has a lasso made of twine and a silver sheriff’s badge. I suspect he’ll enjoy having a new outlaw to capture, and I hope you like dogs. Traitor has full run of the place, and…”

  Madeline relaxed and just listened as Tom talked about all the people and the happenings at Marblestone. He loved it there, she could tell, and being close to him meant she would love it there too. She might like it even if he wasn’t there, but better still that he was.

  As soon as the mansion came into view, her mouth dropped. It was bigger even than the Governor’s home in Denver, which she had seen only once. She laughed when they turned up the lane and she saw Miss Leesil waiting outside, tapping her toe as though Tom was late bringing her home. Indeed, Madeline was going to love Marblestone and all the people in it.

  “How was the ballgame,” Tom asked as he helped Madeline down.

  “I beg of you,” said Leesil, “say nothin’ of it to Claymore. He has been going on and on about it for an hour now.”

  “We lost?” Tom asked.

  Leesil stuck out her bottom lip, and then grinned. “Have you taught Madeline our most important rule?”