Marblestone Mansion, Book 6

by Marti Talbott

  Before she left Paris, the duchess called and Lady Husher assured her Yannick would meet her at the train. Yet no one was there to meet her, neither inside the station nor outside on the walkway where carriages normally picked up their passengers. Others came and went, but no carriage arrived for her and her level of irritation increased with each passing moment.

  Furthermore, she was bone tired, still too thin and not dressed nearly warm enough for Luxembourg’s fifty-five degrees. That morning, she carefully chose her new, but modest blue traveling suit, complete with a matching hat, button up shoes, and a light coat that sufficiently displayed her well-padded bosom. She wore the latest pancake powder, one with just enough color to keep her from looking too pale, and had carefully colored her lips with beeswax and just a touch of beet juice. Anything brighter might shock the Grand Duke, and that was something she might deeply regret later.

  Too upset to calmly sit inside the empty station, she paced the stretch of the boardwalk between the modest station and the street, taking little notice of the spectacular view her surroundings offered. Tired of doing that, she pulled her coat tighter around her and sat on the largest of her three traveling cases.

  “Kate Wagner,” she muttered as though she might forget who she was pretending to be.

  There were ancient castles in Luxembourg, she was told, and no doubt, she would be required to see them all, but she dreaded the thought. She had seen enough of those in Scotland to last her a lifetime. The only castle she was interested in was the Grand Ducal Palace where the Grand Duke lived.

  The sun was shining when she stood up and started to pace again, and even that irritated her. It would take hours for the sun to warm the place sufficiently enough to suit her, and with her luck, she would still be there when it did.

  She was about to gather her luggage and go back inside when a carriage arrived. It was not at all the kind of impressive carriage she expected, but at this point, any carriage would do. A footman jumped down, and opened the carriage door for a tall man dressed sharply in all black clothing and a tall black hat. He stepped down and briskly walked to her. “Mrs. Wagner, I am quite busy and I must say, I resent having to entertain a friend of my Aunt’s at this particular time.”

  The duchess was taken aback by his bold admission, but only for a moment. “Might I assume you are Yannick Ernsdorff, nephew of the Grand Duke of Luxembourg?”

  “I am.”

  “You are not nearly as handsome as your Aunt proclaimed.” She studied the look of complete disdain her insult produced, and then slightly smiled. “Your country is very…very colorful.”

  He glanced at the carpet of fall colors on the distant mountains as if he didn’t already know, nodded for the footman to load her luggage, took hold of her elbow, and escorted her to the carriage. “We have no time to waste.”

  “I can see why, you have already wasted my time sufficiently for us both.” She was about to lift the hem of her skirt and put her foot on the metal step, when she glanced inside the carriage and discovered he had not come alone.

  “Mrs. Kate Wagner, may I present my fiancée, Miss Emma Bauer.”

  Kate inwardly moaned. Fiancée? He wasn’t supposed to bring his fiancée. She couldn’t help herself when she sarcastically said, “Charmed, I am sure.” The duchess climbed into the carriage and instead of sitting in the seat opposite, she sat beside Emma, forcing Yannick to sit across from them. She ignored the frown on his face, and turned her attention to her adversary instead. “Where have you come from?”

  Emma Bauer had a decidedly German accent when she answered, “My home is in America.”

  “Oh, you are that fiancée? I believe Lady Husher mentioned you. In that case, I am certain we shall be the best of friends.”

  The woman with the oval face, passible features, blonde hair and brown eyes also found the duchess insulting. “I doubt that. Where might you be from, Kate Wagner?”

  “You may call me Kate, Emma. I am born in London, naturally.”

  “Born in London with a Scottish accent, Kate Wagner?” Emma asked. “How suspicious.”

  The duchess hurried to think of a good lie. “My nanny was Scottish.”

  “Ah, that explains it. How long must we put up with you, Kate Wagner?”

  As the carriage pulled away, the duchess had to admit she had chosen a stupid name this time, and the irritation of being called Kate Wagner instead of just Kate, was already getting on her nerves. “A few days…or weeks.”

  Yannick said, “As I explained, Darling, my aunt insists we entertain her while we are here.”

  Emma turned to look out the window, “I am quite certain she can entertain herself quite well without our help.”

  “Perhaps so,” Yannick agreed, “but my aunt insists and I am put upon not to deny her…for reasons I am not inclined to explain just now.”

  “Good,” said the duchess, “I do not enjoy tales of self-pity.”

  He saw no reason whatsoever to hide his revulsion and glared at her. “I assure you, I have little to pity myself for.”

  “I should think not. After all, you are royalty and a fine catch for an American.”

  “Or a lonely, penniless widow,” Emma shot back.

  The duchess finally smiled at Emma. “How unkind of you to bring that up, Emma. I am here for distraction and do not need remindin’.”

  Emma grinned. “Reminding, the word in English is remind…ing.”

  Born and raised in Scotland, the duchess had worked very hard to sound British. It was a silly mistake she had to admit, and she never imagined an American could tell the difference. Her reply and the look on her face was as sour as she could possibly make it, “I thank you for remind…ing me.”

  “How did you manage to dispose of your husband?” Emma asked.

  “If you insist on knowing, I considered several different devices, but he had the good sense to pass without my help.”

  “Fortunately for him,” Emma said.

  Yannick waited until it appeared they had stopped squabbling, looked at first one and then the other woman seated across from him. “Ladies, since we three have been thrown together, a touch of civility on all our parts is in order, is it not?”

  “And spoil all the fun?” the duchess asked. “Emma and I appear to be equally matched, and I truly enjoy a good contest of wits from time to time.”

  “So do I,” Emma said to Yannick, “especially with one who is as arrogant as Kate Wagner.” She turned her attention back to the duchess. “How penniless are you?”

  “It is most inappropriate of you to ask, but then, I have heard Americans are not well versed in the art of proper etiquette. Perhaps a book or two would enlighten you. Might I suggest The Lady's Guide to Perfect Gentility by Emily Thornwell? It was published in New York many years ago, I believe.”

  “I had no idea you were so well read, or even that you could read,” Emma returned.

  Yannick took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Mrs. Wagner, as I said we are quite busy this day. There is much to do to prepare for my Uncle’s birthday celebration and Emma has a gown fitting to attend. I am afraid we must leave you to your own devices until dinner.”

  This time, when she spoke to him, her tone and her expression were more pleasant. “I truly do not mean to be a bother. A little rest, while Emma tries to avoid the sharp pins of the seamstress, will do me very well indeed.” Before Emma could respond, the duchess spotted a large structure located high on a hill. “Is that the Grand Ducal Palace?”

  “Hardly,” he answered, “that castle has not been occupied in years. The Grand Ducal Palace is suffering still more renovations, so my uncle has elected to avoid the inevitable pounding for more satisfying surroundings in the country. We shall arrive soon.”

  “I see.” With her heart set on living in a palace, if even for a short time, the duchess hid her disappointment and continued to look out the window.

  *

  Meeting the Grand Duke was nothing like what the duchess ex
pected either. Yannick rushed her into a sitting room, where the old man was happily playing solitaire and did not want to be bothered. He grunted at the introduction, hardly took his eyes off his cards, and waved her away as soon as she finished her curtsy.

  That was the end of that.

  The mansion she found herself in was grand enough, but not as grand as many others the duchess had seen. It would do, she supposed. Exhausted, she followed a French speaking lady’s maid to a bedroom three flights of stairs above. It held an aging brass bed, a well-used chest of drawers, a needlepoint corner chair that could not possibly be comfortable, a carved oak armoire, and a dressing table with a small jewelry drawer. She was not impressed, especially since the scant few jewels she had belonged to Lady Husher. The diamond and sapphire ring she wore was impressive enough, and the diamond broach designed to be worn with whatever she had on was sufficient for the purpose, but her favorite was the magnificent, multiple strings of pearls. Giving them back was going to be pure torture.

  She desperately wanted to collapse on the bed. Instead, she walked to the window and gushed over the view, just as Lady Husher instructed her to do. She waited until the maid was finished unpacking her clothing, and then pleasantly asked that her ball gowns be pressed.

  “Madame Wagner, I know of no balls.”

  “No balls?” Kate asked much louder than she should have.

  The young and very startled maid began to back away. “I am sorry, Madame.”

  “Forgive me.” The duchess turned away from the window and smiled her sweetest smile. “If that be the case, there is no need to press the gowns. Hanging them up will do.”

  “Yes, Madame.”

  As soon as the maid left the room and closed the door, the duchess plopped down on the bed. Already she had blundered and she had only just arrived. Lady Husher insisted she not do anything that might upset the help, for they were very good at telling the duke every detail…and impressing the duke was of the upmost importance.

  She carefully removed her hat and set it on the bed beside her. The trouble with new clothes was that they were so new. There was a knotted thread in the top of her new corset that rubbed against her skin each time she moved and she was determined to do something about it. She took off her jacket, laid it on the bed and was about to unbutton her blouse to adjust her corset when someone knocked on the door.

  “Come in.”

  “Mrs. Wagner,” Yannick said opening the door only wide enough to stick his head in. “I came to see if your accommodations are suitable.”

  “You are very kind to ask.” She got up and walked close enough for him to get a good look at her best features. “I find this to be a most comfortable room.”

  “If you need anything, just ring the bell.”

  “Thank you, I shall.”

  “How long have you known my aunt?”

  The duchess searched her mind for the answer and couldn’t remember. Apparently, she wasn’t listening when Lady Husher decided on the answer to that question. “A few years,” she guessed.

  “She called just now. I assured her you had arrived safely and she mentioned that you have been friends for nearly a decade.”

  “A decade? How quickly the years have passed. Does she call you often?”

  He smiled. “My dear Aunt Husher believes the telephone was invented just for her convenience, and is pleased to get as much use out of it as possible.”

  “I rather enjoy it myself.” While she was letting Yannick get a good look at her, she got a good look at him. He was older than she imagined he would be, and not very handsome, tolerable, but not in the least bit handsome in her opinion. Not that it mattered; she had seen worse and it wasn’t as if she was going to marry him.

  “You must be hungry,” he said. “Dinner will be served at seven. If you need something before...”

  “Seven will do very well.”

  He nodded and then closed the door.

  How charming he was being, she thought. She best be careful with him; handsome or not, he quite possibly had more wits than most men, and being older, was well aware of the ways of women. That he did not insist she be kinder to Emma fascinated her. Most men in love would have chastised her at least a little, but this one was apparently not like most men. Furthermore, not once did she catch him looking at her bosom – that fascinated her even more.

  *

  At dinner that night, the duchess was surprised and delighted to learn she would be dining alone with Yannick. “The grand duke and duchess are not joining us?” she asked when she entered the narrow dining room. There was hardly enough space for the long table and chairs, which forced the server to bring each dish in from an adjoining room.

  “They have another engagement,” he answered. He remained standing until the footman helped her sit at one end, and then took his seat at the head of the table.

  “And Emma?”

  “She is not feeling well, or so she says.”

  “So she says?”

  “You might as well know now, she has not received the kindest of welcomes. I fear a conspiracy abounds to see that I do not marry her.”

  The duchess waited while the footman served her a glass of wine and then took a sip. “What do they find wrong with her?”

  “She is an American.”

  “Yes, well they have a point.”

  “I disagree. I have lived in America this year past and I find they differ little from the English.”

  The duchess rolled her eyes. “Love must be blinder than I thought.”

  Yannick chuckled. “Said by a loyal Brit.”

  “We must all display our loyalties in the very best possible light. Otherwise, we are guilty of neglect, or worse, sabotage.”

  “Sabotage? What do you suppose the punishment is for sabotage these days?”

  “Be it all the same to you, I do not care to find out.” She watched him laugh and at last, she caught him glancing at her bosom. “Do you intend to marry her above your family’s objections?”

  “I do. Frankly, Mrs. Wagner…”

  “Kate, please.”

  “Kate, I am not in line to a throne, or at least not nearly close enough to matter, and I am just selfish enough to want what I want.”

  “Good for you.”

  “You approve?”

  “Of course not, what sort of Brit would I be if I did?”

  “Then you disapprove,” he assumed.

  “If Emma pleases you, she pleases me, which is not to say I would want her to marry a member of my family. Nevertheless, I shall give Lady Husher a most glowing report when next I see her.”

  “That, I shall very much appreciate. Now, tell me about your family?”

  The duchess was tired and it was hard to remember what she was supposed to say, but she did the best she could. She answered all his questions, and was relieved when the inquisition was over. He did not seem alarmed by anything she said, so she was certain he had not asked the same questions of his aunt. Either that or he was very good at hiding his emotions.

  At last, the meal was finished, she was allowed to go to her room, and have the maid help her out of that horribly uncomfortable corset. Once she was in bed, it took less than a minute for her to fall asleep.

  *

  Yannick was all smiles when the duchess came down to the breakfast room the next morning. At least this room was not as narrow or as dark as the dining hall. Emma was not pleased to see her, but no matter. The duchess helped herself to a pastry, two eggs and a slice of ham from the platters on the running board, before she let the footman seat her opposite Emma at the table.

  “Well, Kate, what would delight you this day?” Yannick asked.

  “You are not too busy to entertain me?” asked the duchess.

  “My plans have changed. Perhaps a tour of some of our oldest castles?”

  “Perched high on a hill, where she might accidentally slip and fall off a cliff,” Emma muttered.

  The duchess smiled. “You are in good form thi
s morning. I am happy to see you have recovered. Was it a terrible illness?”

  “Nothing you should be concerned over, to be sure,” Emma sneered. She took a bite of her breakfast and proceeded to ignore both Yannick and Kate.

  “Perhaps Emma is not well enough to scour the countryside looking at ruins,” the duchess said to Yannick. “Have you no sports we might watch in this, the farthest country from London as is possible?”

  “You have forgotten Russia,” Emma pointed out.

  The duchess nodded when the footman offered her a cup of hot tea. “I suppose I have. Yannick’s aunt tells me he is related to Russia’s Tsar Nicholas.”

  “In a roundabout way,” Yannick admitted.

  “Have you ever met him?” the duchess asked.

  “I have not, nor do I intend to. I disagree with how he handled the China situation.”

  “How so?” the duchess asked. For the first time, she was happy for all the education Lady Husher pressed upon her, for Emma was clearly lost in the conversation.

  “He foolishly risked an all-out war with China over his desire to build a railroad across northern Manchuria.”

  “You confess the need for better transportation exists in all countries, do you not?” the duchess asked.

  “I do.”

  “Yet, you would have done it differently?”

  Yannick’s view was sternly set and it showed in his eyes. “Or not at all.” He looked at his bored intended and dropped the subject. “Perhaps we should discuss something Emma is more familiar with. European politics are not well known and rarely discussed in America.”

  “You are right, forgive my insolence, Emma,” said the duchess, a bit more insincerely than she meant to.

  Emma smiled finally. “My darling Yannick knows little of American politics either, so we are well matched.”

  “So you are,” the duchess conceded. Her point was made and she was relieved to change the subject before she got in over her head. “Lady Husher insisted I bring ball gowns, but your maid said there are to be no balls.”