Marblestone Mansion, Book 6

by Marti Talbott

  Tom wrinkled his brow. “What rule?”

  Leesil rolled her eyes, slipped her hand around Madeline’s arm, and started them toward the door Prescot was holding open for them. “The rule is – you must never say what goes on here, especially to Mrs. Whitfield. I have seen my husband’s wrath, brought about by a servant who said too much, and I wish never to see it again.”

  “Oh that rule,” Tom muttered, he winked and then headed back out the door to fetch her bags.

  “I assure you, I know better than that,” Madeline said.

  “Of course you do. Now, you might hear a thing or two about someone we call the duchess, but do not fret, she is long gone and not a bother to us anymore. Even so, you are to tell no one what is said about her.”

  With two fingers, Madeline pretended to turn the lock on her mouth and throw the key away.

  “Excellent. I believe you shall do nicely with us.”

  Madeline abruptly stopped to take in the beauty of the pure white marble foyer. “Oh my, it is far grander than I have heard.”

  “Yes, well you might not admire it so, once you are asked to polish it,” said Leesil.

  “I won’t mind, I assure you.”

  “Polish the marble it is,” Butler Prescot said. He held the door while Tom brought Madeline’s luggage in and then closed it. He nodded toward the back stairs, “We put her in Sassy’s room?”

  “Who is Sassy?” Madeline asked.

  “Fret not, you’ll get on with it soon enough,” said Leesil. “Run along with you now, and come to the kitchen for cake later. Everyone does. If you go hungry here, ‘tis your own fault.” Leesil watched Madeline follow Tom through the parlor and then smiled at Prescot. “Our Tom is in love, I think.”

  “So do I. We shall have great fun watching those two.”

  “Indeed we shall.”

  *

  True to his word, the first duty Prescot gave Madeline her first morning as a housekeeper, was to polish the marble in the foyer. She was delighted – Tom was not. The minute Prescot went off to mind his other duties; Tom snuck into the foyer and helped her.

  As the days passed and during meals with the other servants, Madeline won all their hearts by telling them stories about the people who had eaten in the café. As Tom warned, she was careful to compliment both of the cooks equally, claiming they were much more accomplished than the cook at the café. Halen, the American cook, didn’t think it was much of compliment, but Scot Jessie was pleased. Not once did Madeline mention Mr. or Mrs. Swinton and none of them asked.

  In the evenings after Tom finished serving the family, the work was done for the day, and the air was cool, he took Madeline for long walks. They strolled up the lane, up the road a piece and then down again. They talked of all sorts of things, even politics, which Madeline seemed to have an excellent knowledge of.

  “I listen when men talk, is all,” she explained.

  Naturally, a walk in the evenings suddenly appealed to several other members of the household, who just happened to be going their same direction. It didn’t take long for Tom to figure out they were being spied upon, and were most likely reporting back to the family. Hannish and Leesil were famous for wanting to know every detail of a blooming romance. For that reason, he intentionally neglected to hold her hand, except when she needed help stepping over something.

  One particular evening, he decided enough was enough. He asked Madeline to wait for him in front of the house, where Leesil and Hannish happened to be seated outside in the shade. With a grin on his face, he came around the side of the house on his horse, pulled Madeline up behind him, and sped off down the path that led to the Whitfield Mansion.

  Behind him, he heard Leesil shout, “Before dark, Tom Boland!”

  It was a short ride and alone at last, Tom halted his horse in front of a small pool fed by a thin, late summer waterfall, and let her down. He dismounted, tied his horse, and went to stand beside her in front of the pond.

  “I am convinced this is the only green place in all of Colorado this time of year,” she said. “Everything is so brown everywhere. We need more rain.”

  Tom looked up, slowly turned around and surveyed the sky. “Not one cloud, I am sad to say. We must wait.”

  “Yes, we must.” She smiled, leaned down and pulled a dandelion out of the small patch of tall grass. “It is the oddest thing, but I sometimes feel I am neglecting to do something, and then I realize there is no Mr. Swinton to watch. I rather miss that.”

  “Do you? We could find someone for you to watch, I suppose. We could make a game of it.”

  “It would not be the same. Before he was married, he used to tell me about places he had seen. He has seen most of the north, even the Dakota Territory, but not much of the south. I liked hearing about different places. Of course, once he was married, he seldom came in.”

  “I thought you did not like him.”

  “I did not, once I heard he got poor Patella Green pregnant and refused to marry her. But before that, he wasn’t so bad.”

  Talking about Swinton made him think about telling her the truth about his past, and he supposed he should get it over with. “Madeline, there is something I…”

  “What?” When he didn’t answer right away, she turned to look in his eyes. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, not at all. I like being with you…I mean, I wouldn’t want anything to ruin our…friendship.”

  “I see, it is a friendship.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She turned away. “You mean you want to be just friends.”

  He reached for her hand and pulled until she turned to face him again. “That is not what I mean at all.” He fully intended to tell her the truth before the relationship got more serious, but the perfect opportunity presented itself and he couldn’t resist. He removed his hat, looked deep into her eyes, and then slowly touched her lips with his.

  She wanted his kiss never to end and it might not have, at least not so quickly, except she heard a giggle.

  “‘Tis about time,” Dugan said when both Madeline and Tom turned to see who it was. Dugan’s wife, Beverly, giggled again when Tom glared at her husband.

  “Spies!” Tom shouted. “We are surrounded by spies!”

  “For a dollar, we might turn our backs and let you kiss her again,” said Dugan.

  Tom sighed, reached in his pocket, and put a dollar in Dugan’s hand. Then he winked at Madeline, “I’ll win it back in a game of billiards soon enough.” By then, he didn’t even care if they were being watched; he boldly took Madeline in his arms and kissed her long and lovingly. When he finished and looked around, Dugan and Beverly were gone.

  “A little more than just friends?” Madeline asked.

  “A lot more,” he said. He should have told her then, but a harsh truth would have spoiled the moment. “We best get back before they think they have more to talk about than just a kiss.” He enjoyed her blush, put his hat back on, took her hand, and reached for the horse’s reins. “Two more days until Pioneer days in town. You have been before, surely.”

  “I could only manage time off to attend once and I am greatly looking forward to it.”

  *

  That night, Tom lay in his bed wide-awake scolding himself for not telling her. Now, if she rejected him after the way she returned his kiss, it would hurt ten times more. In fact, he was certain her rejection would likely kill him.

  *

  “Pay attention, Kate,” said Lady Husher. She sat across the table from her houseguest with a large family Bible opened to the middle family tree section. “Yannick’s father, who is also my brother, is the great, great nephew of Louisa Ulrika of Prussia, Queen of Sweden.”

  Bored beyond belief, it was this statement that finally made the duchess sit up. She always believed Lady Husher was little more than a commoner, but now it appeared she had more than a touch of royal blood in her veins. In fact, Lady Husher might even be more closely in line to the throne than her greatly esteeme
d husband.

  For the most part, the duchess was happy to be a guest in the Husher mansion where the air did not smell musty, the paint was not peeling off the walls, and the carpets were new. What she disliked was the number of times each day she was expected to eat. She had been without sufficient food for long enough to allow little room in her stomach, and overeating was drudgery at best. Even so, if she wanted to look healthy and presentable again, eat she must, and Lady Husher was determined to present her with every tempting dish imaginable.

  Of course, that was not all Lady Husher wanted the duchess to do. She was to have a good knowledge in the ways of Luxembourg royalty, and their connections to the other royal families, such as Russia’s Czar Nicholas II, George I of Greece, Frederic of something or other, the Princess of Hanover, and Emperor so-and-so, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera – about which she could not have cared less. She supposed it might come in handy someday, but on most days, she felt both force-fed and force-educated.

  “There now, that is the end of it,” said Lady Husher.

  “There are no more royals?” an astonished duchess asked.

  “Not in our family.”

  The duchess watched Lady Husher stand up and walk to the window to look out, as she had a habit of doing, the duchess noticed. When the duchess looked, she found nothing extraordinary to see outside, but it wasn’t the first oddity in the wealthy she had ever witnessed. “Are you expecting someone?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  “A man has been seen watching the house, but he is not there now. He probably just hopes to ask favors of my husband.” She walked back to the table and retook her seat. “We have much more to accomplish, you and I.”

  “How much more could there be?”

  “We must devise a story…a background if you will.”

  The duchess smiled. “Am I to be a long lost cousin of a king or queen, perhaps?”

  “Nothing so romantic, but we cannot tell Yannick that you are a disposed of duchess, now can we?”

  There it was again – that dagger painfully shoved in her heart with the intent to maim. How the duchess would have liked hitting the woman over the head with her hairbrush, but unfortunately, Lady Husher was the duchess’ only hope of regaining her rightful place in society. “No, we cannot.”

  “We must conjure up a husband, a family, and a home somewhere in the country.”

  “I am to be a widow, I suspect.”

  “Well, yes, you must be, for the neighbors have seen a widow come and go, and if he telephones…”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “How long ago did my husband die?”

  “A year should be sufficient for you to have completed your time of mourning. We’d not want your new clothes to be for naught. Now, your husband is…”

  The duchess could have devised a false background in her sleep, for she had done it many times before. Yet, it was fascinating to hear what Lady Husher would come up with. She paid close attention, remarked on her hostess’ brilliance, and occasionally swayed her to something a little more believable. That too soon became tedious and her mind began to wander when Lady Husher suggested something that sparked a memory. She especially remembered…

  “Kate, why are you smiling?” Lady Husher asked. “We are discussing the demise of your husband, after all, and I shall expect you to be somewhat mournful if Yannick asks about him.”

  “Lady Husher, perhaps we might put this off until tomorrow. I am quite hungry.”

  “At last,” Lady Husher sighed. “Of course, you must eat and then rest. I do believe there is a bit more color in your cheeks now. We shall start again in the morning at precisely at nine o’clock.”

  The duchess was thinking of adding another imaginary hairbrush whack on the top of Lady’s Husher’s head, when the woman got up and left the room.

  *

  In the mornings, with the sun coming up in the east, Leesil liked to sit on the ballroom balcony on the west side of Marblestone, and watch the children play in the backyard. Twice, Justin fell trying to run after the dog, but he got right back up and started off again. The older children were in Beverly’s schoolroom doing their math problems, and as usual, the servants were all busy with their duties.

  As he had a habit of doing lately, Tom fixed her a cup of tea with milk, found her in the back, and stayed to see if she wanted more.

  “Pray tell me we are not havin’ fish tonight, I simply cannot abide the smell,” she whispered.

  “You are safe; none of us have gone fishing lately. It is too hot.”

  “I am relieved.”

  He moved to the side and faced the backyard so he could watch the children too. “Miss Leesil, I believe your husband misses you.”

  “Do you? Why do you say that?”

  “Before he left this morning, he stood at the bottom of the stairs and was about to start up when he changed his mind.”

  “Perhaps he forgot somethin’.”

  “He would have gone all the way up if he had. You slept late this morning and I think he missed kissing you goodbye. ”

  “I missed it too. Thank you, Tom. I shall make certain to get up in time from now on.”

  “I have a better idea. Why not let the cooks make you a picnic basket, let me drive you to town, and see if Mr. Hannish will take the time to have a nice lunch in the park – just the two of you.”

  “You wouldn’t mind waitin’ while we eat?”

  “Not at all. Madeline gave me a new book to read and I am eager to begin it.”

  “You could take Madeline with us.”

  “I could, but I think this afternoon should belong to the two of you.”

  Leesil stood up and lightly touched her cheek to his. “I cannae think what I would do without you.”

  “I hope you never have to.”

  *

  Now that he was absolved of any wrongdoing, Mr. Swinton proudly brought his wife to the annual Pioneer Celebration at the park. Loretta looked especially lovely and happy in her pink linen floor-length walking skirt, tailored white shirtwaist blouse and black cloth belt. The rose embroidered design on her skirt matched her parasol and the abundance of silk flowers on her hat. Both highlighted the rosiness that was finally back in her cheeks. Apparently, she had also acquired shoes that fit properly, for she no longer shifted her weight from one leg to the other on a regular basis.

  Mr. Swinton was indeed a decidedly handsome man, with hair a deep shade of blond and gray/blue eyes, drawing the attention of many a woman. He too was well dressed in dark trousers, a white shirt, a dark vest, a derby hat, and Madison black and white zip-up ankle boots.

  This year’s Pioneer Days were held in the newly built Stratton Park, located at the base of Cheyenne Mountain, just south of Colorado Springs. It offered a multitude of wooden benches, rock bordered walkways, gardens, trails, and a small, rock-lined trout pond fed by Cheyenne Creek. Among the scrub oak, pine and chokecherry trees, were grassy hills and walking bridges – where a young couple could be alone, but not out of sight.

  Admired though he was by the ladies, Swinton appeared to have eyes only for his wife. He seemed proud to escort her through the multitude of people that wondered between exhibits of gold ore and mining tools, the children at play and the clowns on stilts. They stopped to examine a safety bicycle that had two wheels of equal size, as opposed to the ones with one very large wheel in the front and a small one in the back. It had chain driven pedals, a more steerable front wheel, and was being appreciated by many a young man, even though they would not soon be able to afford one.

  Neither Mr. Swinton nor his wife was interested in the covered wagon exhibit, nor did they pay any attention to those who were watching their every move. The novelty of being seen in public again would soon pass.

  As always, Abigail and her sewing circle offered a table filled with cake and pie slices, which they sold to help support the orphanage in Denver. It was Loretta’s turn to help with the selling and before Swinton deposited her behind the table, he
lovingly kissed her for all the world to see.

  Watching from a good distance away, Abigail rolled her eyes and then whispered to Leesil, “What a dreadful display of conceit and arrogance.”

  “Abigail, he is tryin’ to show us he truly loves Loretta, and by the look on her face, I believe she is thrilled by it.”

  “Well, I believe what my husband says – something is very wrong with the man, and I shall never believe otherwise.”

  “Aye, but Loretta is happy now. Is that not what we all want for her?”

  “I suppose so, but how are we to endure his company with any measure of poise and grace?”

  “We shall manage it for Loretta’s sake. Shall we not go say hello to our dear friend? I have missed her.”

  Reluctantly, Abigail nodded and followed as Leesil made her way through the crowd.

  Standing near one of the gold ore exhibits, Claymore and Hannish were watching too. “Does he go nowhere without that blasted cane gun?” Claymore asked.

  “Apparently not. His hired lads say he is never without it, even when he is inspecting the work on one of his houses.”

  “I say we steal it.”

  “How?” Hannish asked.

  “All men must sleep sometimes.”

  “Very well, you go to Palmer Lake, slip into his bedroom and get the gun.”

  “And what will you be doing?” Claymore asked.

  “Standin’ guard, naturally.”

  “On the front steps of Marblestone?”

  Hannish laughed. “You’ve not the courage to do it anyway.”

  “We could hire someone,” Claymore said as they continued on to the next display. “There must be someone…”

  *

  Right after the mayor’s longwinded speech, the MacGreagor trio stood on the platform and sang three songs. As they always did, they finished with The Battle Hymn of the Republic, which brought tears to more than a few eyes. Their volume was not as full as it was when Egan made them a quartet, but with any luck, Egan would sing with them when he and his wife, Malveen, came to see them in the winter.

  Not once did Tom leave Madeline’s side, which caused Hannish to lean closer to Leesil later and say, “I believe we are about to have another weddin’ at Marblestone.”