The hotel was far from the finest, and was situated on the south side of London, not far from Solicitor Crisps’ office. The windows had not been washed in a good long time, the red drapery was faded and the reception room furniture needed reupholstering. As well, the placed smelled a bit musty, but with so much rain, even the best hotels had a similar problem from time to time.
“She stayed for several months,” said the hotel proprietor, who also served behind the counter, “and left all she owned behind.” He was a short man, who combed long hairs from one side of his head to the other, hoping to hide his ever-expanding bald spot. “You do not think she has been murdered, do you? They found a body on the bank of the River Thames two days ago.”
“I hope not, Mr…”
“Purcell, Mathew Purcell. I own this hotel, such as it is, and I don’t mind saying I am not sorry to have Mrs. Sinclair gone. She can be quite vicious when she wants to be, and the maid hates her. I’d not blame anyone for killing Mrs. Sinclair; I thought of it a time or two, myself.”
“Mr. Purcell, might I see her room?”
“You don’t think I’ve kept it for her, do you? I have other customers happy to pay the price.”
“She owes you money?”
“A full week’s worth. Oh, she batted her blue eyes and pleaded forgetfulness, but you can’t fool an old hound like me. A woman like that does not gladly part with her money, even when she rightfully owes it. I run a fine establishment, neat and clean, and…”
“Mr. Purcell, do you know who saw her last?”
“Indeed I do. Sally spent half a day doing up Mrs. Sinclair’s hair. It had to be just so, or Sally would regret it. I had a devil of a time keeping Sally from quitting the place. She’s the best lady’s maid I’ve got.”
“Might I speak to her?”
“Well…we are kind of busy.”
Adam pulled two one-pound notes out of his pocket and laid them on the counter. “Will this do?”
“Very well, sir.” Purcell stuffed the money in his pocket, rang the counter bell twice and a moment later, Sally peeked around the corner.
A girl of not more than fifteen, Sally wore a light blue uniform clearly too large for her, with a white apron. “Oh good, ‘tis not that horrid Mrs. Sinclair come back. I tell you, Mr. Purcell, if…”
“Sally, Mr. Fletcher Garrott would like a word with you about Mrs. Sinclair.”
“She be mean is all I can say, Mr. Garrott, meanest woman I ever did lay eyes on.”
“So I have heard. Did she have many visitors?”
Sally clasped her hands together in front, and slightly swung her body from side to side. “Some barrister came a few times, but no other, not until that night.” She widened her eyes as if to tell a scary tale. ‘Twas a cold and lonely night, it was, when Mrs. Sinclair gave me leave to go. Darkest night I ever did see. She was all dressed for the ball, or so ‘twas what she did tell it was. “‘Twas a right grand gown she was wearing. I’d not mind having one…”
“Sally, did you see the man who came for her?” Garrott interrupted.
“Of course I did, I never did believe she was going to a ball, but he came dressed in fancy clothes, just as I heard a real gentlemen do…I mean does.”
“Did you catch his name?”
“She called him…oh, I forget.” Again, Sally widened her eyes. “But then, the most peculiar thing happened. He got her in the carriage, but he didn’t get in with her.”
“Are you certain?”
“I saw him get in another carriage after the first one drove off. It drove off in a mighty hurry too, both of them did.”
“Did the second carriage follow the first?”
“No sir, now that you asked me, the second one went the other way.”
“I see.” Garrott turned his attention back to Mr. Purcell. “Might I have a look at Mrs. Sinclair’s things?”
“All sold off to pay her bill. Got a handsome price for some of it, I don’t mind saying. No jewels though. I suspect what she owned, she wore that night. Mind telling me what this is all about?”
“I have been hired to find her.”
“I see,” said Purcell. “If you find her, tell her not to come back. We’ve had our fill of that one.”
“I’ll tell her.” Garrott scribbled his name and a phone number on a piece of paper, and pushed it across the counter to Purcell. “If you see her, will you call? I promise to make it worth your while.”
“I will, Mr. Garrott, I surely will.”
After he was gone, Purcell grinned and playfully shook his finger at Sally. “You did not tell him Lord Stockton came to get her later, or that he had been here before.”
“‘Tis not wise to tell all I know right at the start. I learned that from you.” Sally held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “How much did you get off this one?”
Purcell rolled his eyes and dug the notes out of his pocket. He handed one to Sally and tucked the other one back in. “Perhaps in a week or two, I might call and say you suddenly remembered something.”
“Perhaps you should.”
*
It took a bit of doing, but after Lady Okerman went to the MacGreagor stateroom, she finally convinced Leesil not to hold one stupid slip of the tongue against her. At least, Leesil thought, the woman was actually talking to her and not to her husband. As pleasantly as she could, Leesil said she forgave Maude, and was relieved when the obnoxious, insincere woman finally left.
Hannish and Leesil managed to avoid having dinner with them each of the following evenings, by choosing the small dining room; they hoped the Okermans would find eating there far beneath their station in life. Yet, when they arrived in the small dining room on their last night at sea, they found the Okermans waiting for them.
Lord Okerman hurried to the door to greet them, “Please join us.”
There was no way of avoiding them now, and when Leesil nodded her consent, the MacGreagors took their seats at a table for four, and were served their first course of coveted Madeira wine.
“I had no idea they served such lavish meals on ships,” said Leesil, trying her best to be pleasant.
“This is your first voyage?” Maude asked, making a point being cordial.
“Sort of,” Leesil muttered so low, the noise of the other guests hid her words.
Maude decided to let that subject drop. “I want to hear all about McKenna. Is she well?”
“Quite well,” Hannish answered, as soon as he finished downing half his glass of wine. “She is married and the proud mother of a son, born last winter.”
“She married a judge,” Leesil added.
“Oh, I see,” said Maude, clearly unimpressed. “Civil or criminal?”
“A little of both,” Hannish answered. “Colorado is a rather new state and Colorado Springs newer still. We have only just built a prison.”
“The west truly is wild, then.” Maude sipped her wine and didn’t bother hiding her disgust.
Certain Maude was about to offend Leesil again, Hannish decided to make the conversation a little more exciting. “Not as wild as some might imagine, although we had a train robber in our midst last summer.”
Maude perked right up. “Did McKenna’s judge capture him?”
“Nay, he was killed in a shootout in Kansas City.”
“I believe we read about that,” said Thorndike. “We British are quite fascinated with the goings on in the west, particularly shootouts and such. Hannish, we do miss McKenna. Why did she not come with you?”
“She wanted to, but the Judge could not get away. He has a murder trial on his hands as we speak.”
“McKenna endured a frightful tornado,” Leesil added.
“‘Tis true,” said Hannish. “Her driver died, but the Judge managed to save himself and McKenna.”
Thorndike gasped. “Thank God. We have heard nothing good about America’s tornados. Pictures of the damage are quite beyond our comprehension.”
As soon as she was served, Maude tas
ted her soup and quickly swallowed. “She stopped writing, you know. McKenna keeps in touch with none of us now, not since Lady Margaret wrote to tell her about Chilton Ashton.”
“Who is Chilton Ashton?” Hannish asked.
“Oh, dear, I thought you knew,” said Maude.
“Knew what?” Hannish demanded.
Maude looked a little more pleased at being the first to tell him the news, than she should have. “Let me see if I can put it delicately.”
“Perhaps you might not say in front of Mrs. MacGreagor,” Thorndike suggested. “No need to upset her more than once on this voyage.”
“My dear Thorndike,” said Maude, “they should be told before they attend a ball. Everyone will be talking about it.”
“Has McKenna done something wrong?” Leesil asked.
“Wrong? Not if falling in love is wrong.” Maude pushed her bowl forward, rested her arms on the table, clasped her hands, and leaned forward. “Mr. Ashton and McKenna were nearly engaged, or so McKenna thought. Mr. Ashton did not tell her of his impending marriage to another, until the night before his wedding…or so McKenna said. I found that hard to believe, since his engagement was in all the London papers.”
Hannish narrowed his eyes a little. “McKenna lived in Scotland and we rarely read England’s newspapers. I see nothing to taint my sister’s reputation in that.”
“Perhaps not, but you see, Mr. Ashton boasts about it.”
Hannish didn’t like what he was hearing and his temper was beginning to rise again. “Boasts about what, precisely?”
“He fancies himself that of all the men who desired her, he was the one McKenna loved.”
A violist began to serenade the diners, and any other time, it would have added to the pleasant atmosphere, but not this time. When he came close, Hannish shooed him away. “Yet, he married another?” asked Hannish. “I hardly see anythin’ worth boastin’ about in that.”
“It was her tears, you see. She begged him not to marry another, and he had the pleasure of denying the woman so many others would have given half their wealth to marry.”
“Pleasure?” Hannish asked, loud enough to turn other heads in the room.
Thorndike was finding the whole conversation uncomfortable, but at last, he had something to say in the matter, “If so, McKenna is the only woman he has ever rejected. Never have I seen a more unhappily married man, or one that seeks his pleasure in so many other beds.”
“But why did McKenna not write back to put us straight?” Maude asked.
“Perhaps ‘twas none of your business,” said Hannish.
“Bravo,” Thorndike said raising his glass in salute.
Maude dropped her eyes. “Since she has not, everyone believes him.”
“Everyone who listens to such gossip,” Thorndike said.
Hannish struggled to keep his temper in check. “Does my brother know what is bein’ said about McKenna?”
Maude answered, “I suspect not. He has been little in attendance these past two years.”
Worried that Hannish was about to fly into a rage, Leesil said, “Perhaps we should change the subject.”
“I agree,” said a relieved Thorndike.
“I think to buy my husband a ring. What maker do you suggest?” Leesil asked, nodding when the waiter exchanged her bowl of soup for a plate of chicken smothered in sauce.
Said Maude, “Naturally, Cartier is the very best. We often go to France to pick up a thing or two.”
“Or three, or four,” Thorndike added.
The women spent the rest of the eight-course meal talking about all the expensive things to be had in the world, and when Thorndike pulled a wad of British pounds out of his pocket to count them, Hannish had calmed down and did the same with his American currency.
“We clearly cannot afford the wives we have presently,” Thorndike whispered to Hannish.
“We have a very fine pawn broker in Denver.”
“We have one or two of those in London as well, and I assure you, Lady Okerman would hardly miss half of what she purchases on any given day.”
“Hannish, darling,” Maude interrupted, “I hate to bring up such a forbidden subject, but what happened to your first marriage? Everyone will ask once they hear you are back in town, and I must know what to tell them.”
It was hopeless and he no longer attempted to hide his ire. “You may tell them, Olivia did not like Colorado and Colorado did not like her. You may also tell them, we care never to hear her name mentioned in our presence again. Let them gossip, let them speculate, and leave us be.”
“But if I happen to see her…”
“Maude, that’s enough,” said Thorndike.
“If you happen to see her,” Hannish went on, “try not to introduce her to any other unsuspecting lad.” With that, he stood and offered his hand to his wife.
“Have you never come to Colorado?” Leesil specifically asked Maude. “All the best people come, even presidents and princes. We are hardly ever without a lord and lady.”
Lady Okerman narrowed her eyes. “No, we have never ventured that far west.”
“Pity…all the best people have.” Leesil took her husband’s hand, stood up and left the dining room.
“You simply cannot help yourself, can you, Maude?” Thorndike grumbled. “By the time you are finished, we shall be fortunate if the Scots do not declare war.”
“How easily you ignore her insult. All the best people go to Colorado, indeed.”
“Maude, I have seen that look before. I warn you, do not make trouble for the MacGreagors.”
She ignored Thorndike – just as she always did.
CHAPTER 5
The duke would not hear of his pregnant wife traveling all the way to Liverpool to meet the ship; not in her condition. They nearly went to words over it, but Cameron would not budge and at last, Cathleen gave in. It did not, however, prevent her from pacing the floor and changing her clothing six times, in wild anticipation of her beloved sister’s arrival. Everything was getting too tight around her waist, and she had to admit she would have been miserable on a long journey. Therefore, she placed numerous calls to her dressmaker in Edinburgh. Unfortunately, that didn’t take up enough of her time. She ate three tarts, hot out of the oven, wandered all through the castle and smiled, when she had to, at the Scottish servants.
Head Housekeeper, Ruth, she noticed, had removed any reminisce of the detestable former duchess Olivia, which Cathleen made a point of thanking Ruth for. She tried to read a book, but the words would not stick in her mind. When she went to her upstairs bedchamber window, to look up the road that ran down the middle of the glen, there was never sign of them. It was too soon…of course it was. She thought she would go daft – that is, if she hadn’t already.
*
On the deck of the ship, Leesil was just as excited and if she could have, she would have helped push the ship to shore. Once they were close enough, Hannish held on to her, while Leesil leaned over the ship’s side railing. Finally, she spotted Cameron and shouted for joy. “There he is!” As soon as he waved, she diligently studied the crowd around him and then caught her breath. “Cathleen is not with him. Somethin’ is amiss.”
“Nay, sweetheart, look – my brother is smilin’.”
She released a relieved breath. “Aye, I see that now.”
Holding Justin in his arms, Egan stood behind the excited crowd, and didn’t notice her until Ann Sutherland pulled on the sleeve of his jacket.
“I have enjoyed our time together,” she said.
“What little there was of it,” he complained. “I tried to find you, to give my report, but you were nowhere to be found.”
“What report is that?”
“The report you requested concerning the dancing in steerage.”
“Forgive me, I forgot about that. Was it to your liking?”
“The Irish have a way about them. Aye, I enjoyed it very much.”
“I am glad.”
He tried not
to notice, but her bosom seemed considerably larger than it had on the train. Still, some women were prone to do a little padding, he had heard, so he kept his eyes diverted as best he could. “‘Tis a big ship, but not so big as to swallow a lass up completely. How did you manage to stay hidden?”
If she was unhappy with the inquisition, she didn’t show it. “Perhaps I found a friend or two.”
“Perhaps? When will you know for certain?”
She smiled and dismissed his question. “Will you be staying at Glenartair Castle?”
“Aye, I grew up there; ‘tis my home.” When Justin began to struggle to be let down, he gave the child his undivided attention and said, “Nay, laddie, you will get lost.” He pulled the medallion he always wore out of his shirt, handed it to the child and let Justin play with it. By the time he returned to his discussion with Ann, she was halfway down the length of the deck. He watched her squeeze between two women standing at the rail. As the ship was slowly pushed to the dock, Egan often looked to see where she was, but if she had any friends, they did not join her.
It took well over an hour for the ship to finish docking and in the hustle and bustle of disembarking, Egan lost sight of Ann. It seemed to take almost as long for Cameron to assure Leesil that Cathleen was fine, and for the luggage to be loaded on the rented carriage. By then, Egan was certain Ann was long gone.
*
The train ride was not nearly long enough to catch up on all the news. Justin crawled from lap to lap, getting all the attention he could, and Egan found two different London newspapers left behind by former passengers. He was in newspaper heaven the whole way. At the train station in Scotland, Alistair, Sarah and an overly excited Addie were there to greet them. As soon as the trunks were again recovered and loaded on a MacGreagor horse drawn cart, the passengers climbed into Cameron’s wagonette with its fringed tilt overhead, and seats along the sides that faced each other.
In the village of Glenartair, the arrival of the MacGreagor laird and his mistress was met with cheering crowds. As the wagonette took them slowly down the main street, some threw streamers and confetti into the air in celebration, for they had not seen him in over five years. When he stopped, got out and introduced his wife, they happily accepted her. Anyone was better than his former wife, the despicable duchess.
Marblestone Mansion, Book 5 Page 6