Marblestone Mansion, Book 3

by Marti Talbott

  “I am certain I will…if he ever gives my wife back.”

  Cameron smiled. “‘Tis good to see Cathleen looking so fit. She has grown up.”

  As if she knew he was talking about her, Cathleen left James and went to greet Cameron. “Your Grace, I am happy to see you back again. We thought you would never come.”

  “I am happy to be here finally. ‘Tis a long journey.”

  “Indeed it is, I remember it well.”

  He meant to thank her for the letter, but she soon turned and went back to James.

  “Come,” said Hannish, “Shepard will bring the luggage and unless I am mistaken, Dugan is already drawing you a bath at Marblestone.”

  “I was hoping he would.”

  *

  All the servants lined up outside to greet Cameron, Blair and the famous James. Even the dog sat beside Alistair patiently waiting, but one look at the little girl climbing out of the buggy, and Traitor headed straight for her. Blair shrieked with delight, took off running across the lawn and the chase was on.

  “Traitor!” Cathleen shouted. The dog immediately stopped, sat down and looked back, but he wasn’t happy about it. Blair roared with laughter and sat down too. That was all the invitation the dog needed and an instant later, he was on his feet, furiously wagging his tail, with his eyes firmly locked on his new playmate.

  Cathleen let Hannish help her out of the buggy and then yelled. “Traitor, stay!” This time, the dog lay down, but that didn’t completely stop him. He soon began to crawl toward the little girl and even Cathleen laughed.

  Hannish watched Cathleen walk across the lawn and leaned closer to his brother. “Lately, she’s the only one that dog listens too. ‘Tis why we call him ‘Traitor.’ If I dinna know better, I would swear they grew up together.”

  “They did,” Leesil said grinning.

  Cameron chuckled and then went to greet the servants.

  Although they knew Blair was coming, her likeness to her mother shocked more than one of the Scots, and it took a moment for them to stop looking at Blair. They quickly recovered, choosing instead to offer their condolences to Cameron for the loss of his wife. He shook hands with the men, hugged the women and was glad when that part was over.

  Leesil had barely taken her eyes off James, introduced him to everyone, and then hurried him into the house. Hannish wasn’t sure he would ever get her back, and when the baby began to stir, he decided he should remind her. “Leesil, if I could, I would feed him.”

  Leesil grinned. “Hannish, have you met James?”

  Hannish nodded, waited for her to take Justin out of his arms and then shook the boy’s hand. “Not yet. You are very welcome here, James.”

  “Thank you, Mr. MacGreagor.”

  “While my wife feeds her son, perhaps you might enjoy a bath. We are putting you in the red room. Egan will show you.” Hannish nodded for Egan to come, and then watched as James was taken up the stairs. Then he put his arm around Leesil. “Happy, my love?”

  “Deliriously. James looks very well.”

  “He does indeed, although he is a bit younger than I imagined.”

  “He was but twelve when last I saw him and he is not much taller. That will change soon, I suspect.”

  “Tell me, have you noticed Blair?”

  “I have.”

  “And?”

  “And she is adorable.”

  “Yet, she is the duchess’ daughter.”

  Leesil knew what he was concerned about and kissed her husband’s cheek. “‘Tis not Blair’s fault.”

  He smiled and watched his wife head for the privacy of the downstairs sitting room to feed the baby.

  *

  For many generations, serving the Scottish laird and his family was looked upon as a great honor, and that had not changed for the Scots who boarded a ship and sailed to America. While Cameron was now the duke, Hannish still maintained the title of laird, although few called him that in the new country. In return, the lairds treated their servants with an equal amount of honor and respect, separating himself from his family of servants only when protocol demanded it.

  The few Americans still employed at Marblestone felt they were part of the family too. Therefore, what happened to the MacGreagor laird happened to them also…and what had happened, was a child named Blair.

  Millie and Prescot arrived from McKenna’s home earlier in the day so they too could greet Cameron and get a good look at Blair. Now, the two men who once shared Marblestone’s butler position remained in the marble foyer with their wives, while everyone else went their separate ways.

  “Astoundin’,” Millie muttered, taking a seat on one of the three marble window seats. “I would know Blair is the duchess’ daughter anywhere.”

  “So would I,” Alistair agreed. He remained standing near the door in case someone came. He couldn’t remember a time when he and Millie had not worked together, first in Scotland and then in Colorado. Not long ago, he fell in love with Sarah, an American who already worked in the mansion and Millie fell hard for Prescot. The two couples married and then Hannish sent Prescot and Millie to take care of Nicholas and McKenna in downtown Colorado Springs.

  Alistair was glad to have his friends back, if only for a day. “Mr. Cameron will have his hands full with that one. The lads’ll be buzzin’ round her like flies.”

  “It is a good thing he is a duke,” said Prescot, finding a place to sit near his wife. “She’ll need a duke to keep her safe.”

  “Poor thing…to be the daughter of the duchess,” said Millie, slipping her hand into Prescot’s. “Do you suppose Mr. Cameron will tell her who her mother is? She will ask someday…surely.”

  “I wouldn’t tell her,” said Prescot. “On the other hand, he would have to lie if he does not tell her, and Mr. Cameron does not strike me as the kind who lies easily.”

  Standing next to Alistair, Sarah suddenly caught her breath. “What if the duchess finds out?”

  Alistair was alarmed by the thought too. “I am tempted to go back to Scotland, just to make certain she dinna find out.”

  Sarah was surprised by her husband’s comment. “Are you?” At length, the idea made her smile. “I have always wanted to live in a castle.”

  Pleased with her reaction, Alistair nodded. “We might could go at that.”

  “I think ‘tis a splendid idea,” said Millie. “Perhaps Prescot and I can come back here.” She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I still cannae believe it. I tended the duchess for three horrible years and I never suspected she had a child. Dugan knew but he dinna said a word until Mr. Hannish told us Cameron was bringing Blair.”

  “We should not be that surprised, considering all the other secrets the duchess kept from everyone,” said Alistair.

  “Can we truly go to Scotland?” Sarah asked.

  “If Mr. Cameron will have us, I see no reason not to go.” Alistair was more than pleased with the glow in Sarah’s eyes. “Wife, have I said lately how much I love you?”

  Sarah giggled. “Not since this morning.”

  Alistair, the prim and proper butler, glanced through the foyer doorway to make sure no one would see, put his arms around his wife and lovingly kissed her.

  *

  The warm air hinted at hotter days to come, but for now, the evening was pleasant when the MacGreagor family sat down to dinner. Just as all the other lairds had done, Hannish took his place at the head of the table. His wife sat on his right, his brother on his left and James took a seat next to Leesil. Cameron put Blair on a high stool between him and Cathleen, while McKenna and the judge made themselves comfortable on the same side as Leesil and James.

  Shepard and Dugan were honored to serve them and began to offer slices of ham, roasted potatoes, fresh peas, turnips from the garden and homemade bread. It all smelled divine and James took a moment to savor the aroma of each as he filled his plate.

  “Shall I tell them about the turnips?” McKenna asked the judge.

  “I hate tu
rnips,” he muttered.

  Cameron pretended to be shocked. “What’s this? We MacGreagors were raised on parsnips and turnips.”

  McKenna giggled. “Which is what I told our cook. She’s been making them three times a week this spring, and only just yesterday, my husband admitted he hates them. Poor Doreen is beside herself – she swears Nicholas always cleaned his plate.”

  Hannish chuckled. “You best learn to cook, Nicholas. We dare not upset the cooks at Marblestone for fear I might have to tend the cooking.”

  “Heaven forbid,” Cameron muttered, bringing a round of laughter from the others.

  “You must tell us all about the voyage, James. Do you fancy the sea?” Hannish asked.

  “I dinna mind it, Mr. MacGreagor. We hit a violent storm, but we managed to stay dry and dinna get too queasy. I admit to liking trains better.”

  “So do I,” said Blair. She reached for a glass of juice that was far too large for her little hands, and when Cathleen helped her, she said, “I can do it.”

  “I know,” Cathleen said, “you are practically all grown up. I’m only helpin’ just in case.” She smiled when Blair nodded and didn’t insist she take her hand away. Cathleen glanced at a smiling Cameron. “She has a mind of her own, does she not?”

  “Aye.”

  “What do you mean to do?” Nicholas asked Cameron. “I mean legally? You cannot just raise her as your own without papers.”

  “I was hopin’ you could help me with that, Judge,” Cameron answered.

  Nicholas took a moment to consider what he could do. “She has clearly been deserted, so technically she is an orphan.”

  “Like we were.” Leesil asked.

  “Indeed,” Nicholas answered. “I managed birth certificates for you and your sister, but I first had to make you American citizens.”

  “Then you could do the same for Blair?” Cathleen asked.

  “She would be an American in Scotland. Would that matter?” the judge asked Cameron.

  Cameron smiled. “As long as they dinna start another revolution, Americans are allowed in the kingdom.”

  Hannish quickly swallowed. “Brother, do you know I am an American by marriage. I…”

  Cathleen stopped paying attention and was nearly finished eating when she paid a little more attention to Blair. Unless she missed her guess, the child was about to fall asleep sitting up. She reminded Cathleen of so many other little ones she had mothered in the orphanage, and of how much she missed the feeling of their little arms around her neck. Blair’s eyes drooped, she dropped her fork and just in time, Cathleen stood up and lifted the child into her arms.

  Cameron quickly got to his feet and looked a little alarmed, but Cathleen smiled. “I shall see to her. We’ve a room all ready. ‘Tis next to mine, so I can hear her if she cries in her sleep. She will be fine.”

  After they were gone, Leesil said, “You’ll not easily separate them. ‘Twas not a child in the orphanage whom she did not dearly love.”

  “Tis true, Mr. Cameron,” said James. “She often gave her food…”

  “James, they need not know that,” Leesil scolded.

  “Why not?” James asked.

  “‘Tis too depressin’ and these are happy times. What were you sayin’, McKenna?”

  “Oh,” McKenna started, remembering where she left off. “I was about to say, Nicholas is takin’ me to see Cripple Creek.”

  “You cannae be serious,” Hannish said to Nicholas. “‘Tis not safe.”

  “I’d like to see Cripple Creek myself,” said Cameron. “In Scotland, we hear glorious stories of the Gold Rush.”

  McKenna exchanged glances with her husband – so much for time alone. Fortunately, Nicholas didn’t seem upset. “Then so you shall see it, if you are here long enough. When do you intend to go back?”

  Cameron laid his napkin aside. “I have been advised to stay a month or two, but our tickets allow for little more than a fortnight, and new tickets are not easily secured in summer. With all the travel we shall be gone all of six weeks as it is, and I must get back to my business. What I would like now is to follow Blair’s example and go off to bed. I am exhausted.”

  “So would I,” James agreed. “There are far too many time zones between Scotland and Colorado. I hardly know if it is supposed to be night or day.”

  “You’ll be settled in a day or two,” Leesil assured him.

  CHAPTER 8

  The next morning, Cathleen finished showing James where to find everything, and then left him in the billiard room to play a match with Brookton, one of the footmen. Outside, Cameron stood near the rose garden looking a little downcast, so she decided to cheer him up. “You shall like Abigail Whitfield very much.”

  Deep in thought, Cameron was a bit startled at first. “What? Oh, I met Abigail and Claymore last summer.”

  “Then you’ll understand. Abigail kept askin’ what happened to the Duchess. Did she die or did Hannish divorce her? Not knowin’ made the poor lass daft, but of course, none of us would answer her. Then one day, I made mention that we had buried the duchess here.” Cathleen stepped out from in front of the plaque and watched Cameron’s face.

  Cameron read the words out loud, “Here lies the duchess, for ‘twas here the duchess lied.” He could not help but grin. “You are right dead brilliant.”

  Cathleen half curtsied. “I know, Your Grace. Come, you must help me decide what to tell her next. Abigail does not easily forget.” She grabbed his sleeve and pulled until he began to walk with her.

  “Poor Abigail,” he said, “she knows not what she asks. Tell me, does everyone know about the duchess, about her husbands, I mean?”

  “The Americans know of her, but even some of the Scots dinna know about her other husbands.”

  “Then I best watch what I say.”

  “‘Tis a wise choice.” When they reached the corral, she put her hand between the fence boards and soon Hannish’s dapple-gray came to her. “I should have gotten a handful of grain first.” She looked around, spotted a feedbag hanging on a fence post and headed that way. “I have not yet seen the duchess. Is she as bonnie as my sister says?”

  Cameron followed her down the fence, as did the horse. “Many a lad thinks she is, but I assure you, no one admires her beauty more than the duchess herself.”

  “I have heard that about her too.” Cathleen looked in the feedbag, reached in and withdrew a handful of grain. Once more, she put her hand through the fence, opened her palm and let the horse nibble.

  “After Hannish sailed to America, the duchess implored me to take her to a ball. I found her flirtin’ unsettlin’ and her behavior abominable. I refused to take her after that, but she was not without an escort for very long.”

  “You did not tell Hannish?”

  “He is my brother. I dinna want to be the one to hurt him. Besides, I doubted he would believe me. He was so in…” He realized what he was saying and suddenly stopped.

  “In love with her?”

  “Aye, at least he thought he was. It was a hurried romance, designed no doubt by the duchess to get his title. She never loved him, of that I am certain.”

  “Does love always make a lad blind?”

  “Not always.”

  Cathleen waited for the horse to finish eating, patted his nose and then wiped her wet hand on her skirt. She moved away from the fence and turned to watch Blair play with the dog, who was finally being far gentler with the child. “In many a book, the lass is very bonnie, but not often very happy. Sometimes she is so hated, someone tries to kill her.”

  “Like Snow White, you mean?”

  She giggled. “Precisely. I have come to believe beauty is a curse.”

  “I had not thought of it like that. Blair is destined to be just as bonnie. What do your books say I should do about that?”

  Cathleen’s smile was mischievous when she looked at him. “Lock her away until she is twenty-one, feed her nothing but cake and make certain she becomes very, very fat! Then i
f a lad fancies her, she will know ‘tis true love.”

  “Consider it done.” He paused as he too watched Blair play with the dog and then he remembered. “Cathleen, I wish to thank you for the letter you sent after Flora died. You were right; the flowers bloomed again. You are very wise for someone your age.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Not you too!”

  “Me too, what?”

  “Must I constantly be reminded of my age? It seems everyone is grown up but me.”

  “Your sister is a bit too protective?”

  “And your brother. He fusses over me like a mother cat.”

  “He only means to protect you.”

  “Aye, protect me from growing up. At the town picnic, he watched me constantly, even though there was a table between me and any lad who might approach.”

  “A table?”

  “We sell baked goods to raise money for the orphanage in Denver.”

  “I see.”

  “Anyway, I happened to meet Mr. Swinton, and right away, Hannish suspected he fancied me…simply because he talked to me at the table.”

  “Was my brother right?”

  “Perhaps, not that it will do Mr. Swinton any good. I doubt Hannish will allow him to get near me again…not until I am forty or fifty, at least.”

  Cameron chuckled. “You might be right. Tell me about this orphanage in Denver. Have you seen it?”

  “In a month or two, our committee aims to go to Denver and make certain the children are well cared for. We shall trick them and say we only came to make a donation.”

  “And what will you do if you find conditions unsuitable?”

  “I shall begin with the governor, and if that is not enough, I assure you, my rage shall be heard all the way to Scotland. There, you see, I am grown up.”

  “Indeed you are.”

  “Thank you, I like you better already.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You dinna like me before?”

  “Of course I did, but now I like you better.”