Marblestone Mansion, Book 3

by Marti Talbott

  Leesil grinned, “We once had seven two-year-olds in the orphanage at the same time. They are a very busy lot at that age.”

  “Indeed they are.”

  The baby began to fuss, so Leesil took him back. When Cameron looked out the window again, Leesil said, “Hannish has two of the footmen in windows upstairs; one in the front and one in the back of the house. They are keeping an eye out for the duchess. She’ll not show up without our knowing.”

  “I am relieved. If she truly wanted Blair, none of us could prevent the duchess from taking her.”

  Leesil briefly hugged her brother-in-law. “Dinna count on that.” She grinned and left the room.

  *

  Margaret Ann hadn’t been back to the Antlers Hotel since she quit the place nearly a year before. It stood at the end of Main Street and was a favorite place for prominent members of both America and English society to gather. Back then, she washed and hung out bushels of laundry, and in the process injured one of her wrists. At Marblestone Mansion, she was Cathleen’s ladies maid, a position that put a lot less physical demands on her wrists. She still had trouble carrying a tray occasionally, but that was nothing compared to wringing out clothes by hand.

  She counted many people, both fellow employees and guests, as friends. In fact, she doubted there were many in town she didn’t know and call by their first names. Still, she wasn’t sure how many of her old friends still worked at the hotel.

  With Keith and the Judge waiting outside in case there was trouble, Margaret Ann boldly walked under the middle of the three-arch entrance, through the door held open by the hotel butler and started into the lobby. Not much had changed. The wallpaper was still red velvet with gold trim. Matching drapes hung beside the tall windows, the furniture was highly polished and the enormous chandeliers added much needed light.

  She made if halfway across the lobby before she saw a friendly face.

  Petra looked unusually haggard. “Margaret Ann,” she nearly squealed. “Say you have come back, I could use the help.”

  “What is it, what is wrong?”

  “We are shorthanded, as usual. Lillian, Janice and Mary all quit on the same day.” Petra grabbed Margaret Ann’s hand and pulled her aside. “There is the most awful woman upstairs…the worst I have ever seen. Her name is Mrs. Tanner, and she was pleasant enough while her husband was there, but he decided to go find a place for them to live. Once he was gone, I tell you, she became down right vicious. Nothing I did pleased her and I know it is silly, but she frightens me.”

  It wasn’t hard for Margaret Ann to guess who she was talking about. “Dear one, sit down.” She guided Petra to a seat near the wall. “Now, what does she look like?”

  “She is remarkably beautiful and don’t she know it too.” Petra nodded to emphasize her point. “Her hair was tangled and when I tried to brush it, she snarled at me, just like a mountain lion. I did not mean to pull her hair, but…”

  “Of course you did not. What can I do to help?”

  “Well, she wants tea and she wants it now.”

  “Suppose I take it to her. What room is she in?”

  “Would you? I would be ever so grateful. She is in room 213.”

  “Go get the tea and bring it to me. And then you must rest. I do not like seeing you this upset.”

  “Can we talk later? I have so much to tell you.”

  “Of course we can. Scoot, we must not keep Mrs. Tanner waiting.”

  *

  Margaret Ann balanced the tea tray on her good hand and knocked with the other.

  “Come in.” The duchess wore little more than a corset and a long chemise, took one look at Margaret Ann and turned up her nose. “What happened to the other one?”

  “She is resting. I am Margaret Ann.” She set the tray down on the small round table and then walked back to the door. “May I get you anything else?”

  The duchess got up from her dressing table and turned a fierce glare on Margaret Ann. “You must be new. You are supposed to pour the tea and then hand me the cup…on the saucer.”

  The face of Mrs. Tanner perfectly matched the picture in the newspaper. “If I were a maid at this hotel, I would do just that.”

  “You do not work here?”

  “I do not.” She didn’t want to leave and quickly thought of something to say. “Petra tells me you have a very handsome husband.”

  “He will do,” the duchess murmured as she went to the table and poured her own tea.

  “Do for what?” Margaret Ann brazenly asked.

  The duchess smiled. “I did not mean it like that. I love him dearly, as you can well imagine. We have only just married.” She finished filling her cup and then carried it, on the saucer, back to her dressing table. “Have you lived here long?”

  “A few years.”

  “Then you must know all the people.”

  “Most of them, why do you ask?”

  “I have an old friend here I hope to find. His name is Charles Whitfield. Do you know him?”

  “I do. Unfortunately, he has gone off to England.”

  Margaret Ann desperately wanted to laugh at the expression of great relief on the duchess’ face. “I will gladly tell him you asked about him when he returns.”

  “Do not bother, I will send him a letter.”

  “Well, I best be on my way.”

  “Wait, my skirt is wrinkled,” she said, pointing to a garment on the bed. “Tell Petra to press it and tell her to hurry. I wish to wear it right away.”

  At first, Margaret Ann thought to remind the duchess she didn’t work there, but then she had an idea. “As you wish.”

  *

  It only took a few moments for Margaret Ann to return with the light gray skirt folded over her arm. She offered to help and as soon as the duchess finished buttoning her frilly white blouse, she slipped the skirt over her head, buttoned the back, added the belt the duchess asked for and helped her on with her jacket. Then she stood back and waited for the duchess to turn her back, so she could admire her handy work. Just as she planned – the tip of the scorch mark, made by an iron that was too hot, pointed directly at the lower part of the duchess’ posterior.

  Margaret Ann smiled, and then slipped out the door.

  *

  As soon as she got to McKenna’s house, Margaret Ann rang the operator and asked to be connected to Mr. MacGreagor. McKenna, Prescot and Millie stood nearby to hear what happened.

  “Mr. Hannish?”

  Immediately concerned, he asked, “Margaret Ann, are you in need of help?”

  She remembered not to say too much in case someone was listening in. “All is well. I am at the Mitchel home surrounded by friends. Mr. Hannish, I just met a lady whose husband is, just this moment, looking for a place for them to live.” Margaret Ann saw the color begin to drain out of McKenna’s face and took her hand. “Mr. Hannish, are you there?”

  “Aye, ‘tis a pity I have none to sell him.”

  “She is a friend of Charles Whitfield’s and was surprised to hear he was out of town. Do you know when he will be back?”

  “I do not.”

  “I see. Are the others coming to town soon?”

  “They should be on their way shortly.”

  “I look forward to seeing them. Goodbye, Mr. Hannish.”

  With a grin on her face, Margaret Ann hung up the telephone and turned to McKenna. “The others will be here shortly. We best go watch so we can tell them where she is.” Margaret Ann led the way out the front door and back toward town. “This is going to be great fun,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “By the way, she is wearing a gray suit and a white hat. Take notice of the back of her skirt when you see her.”

  “What have you done?” McKenna asked.

  Margaret Ann giggled. “You shall see.”

  *

  Mr. and Mrs. Jedediah Tanner had just left the hotel when Cameron and Cathleen headed straight for the duchess. It wasn’t hard to tell he was the last person she expected to see. �
��You look familiar,” said Cameron. “Are you not…”

  “No, I am not,” the duchess hastened to say.

  Cameron tipped his hat, “Beggin’ your pardon, but I was certain…”

  “You are quite mistaken.”

  Jedediah stretched out his hand. “Jedediah Tanner. This is my wife, Caroline.”

  “Caroline?” He turned to Cathleen, “We dinna guess that one.”

  “And you are Mr.?” a somewhat confused Jedediah asked.

  “MacGreagor, Cameron MacGreagor and this is my wife, Sassy.” He quickly took hold of Cathleen’s hand.

  The duchess glared. “She is not…” she caught herself just in time. “I mean, it is a pleasure…Sassy.”

  “Likewise,” Cathleen managed to mumble. She was immensely grateful women were not required to shake hands. Knowing the duchess had hit her sister repeatedly with a hairbrush, Cathleen might be tempted to do something she would regret.

  “MacGreagor?” said Jedediah. “I have heard that name before.”

  “‘Tis my brother who lives here, we are only come to visit.”

  “Did he not own a silver mine?” Jedediah asked. “I mean to make the acquaintance of all the wealthy men in Colorado Springs.”

  “And your wife, does she mean to meet all the wealthy lads in town?” Cameron asked, trying to look as innocent as possible.

  The duchess rolled her eyes. “If my husband desires it. Jedediah, we best go.” To her relief, Jedediah nodded, tipped his hat and walked her away.

  “She does not look at all well,” Cathleen said loud enough for the duchess to hear. “In fact, she looks quite ill.” She noticed the duchess raise her chin a little and as soon as they were away, Cathleen whispered, “Why did you say I am Sassy?”

  “It only just came to me. Did you see the look on her face?”

  “I did, she nearly gave herself away.” Cathleen’s brow was wrinkled when she looked into his smiling eyes. “Are you going to let go of my hand any time soon?”

  He glanced down, realized he was still holding it and let go. “‘Tis customary for a wife to hold her husband’s hand.”

  “Aye, but in time, you will be gone and I shall be left to explain this to all the townspeople who are watching us just now.”

  “Forgive me, I had not thought of that.” He nodded in the direction the duchess had just gone. “Margaret Ann is heading for her. Shall we not go watch?”

  Cathleen grinned. “Indeed.”

  *

  Margaret Ann was pleased, not with the way the duchess arrogantly held her head high, but that she was still wearing the gray skirt with the scorch mark. She nodded to Judge Mitchel to indicate she was ready, and then headed up the sidewalk toward the duchess.

  “Mrs. Tanner, what a pleasure to see you again so soon,” Margaret Ann said. “This must be Mr. Tanner. I am Margaret Ann and I hear you wish to live in our fair town.”

  Jedediah Tanner smiled and tipped his hat. “We do.”

  “Well, you are very welcome. This is a small town…you will not believe how small it is, until you begin to hear all the gossip. But then gossip is a part of life, I suppose. Nearly everyone knows everyone else, and everyone else’s business. I’d not be surprised if half the town was already talking about the two of you.” She smiled sweetly at the duchess, who appeared to have caught on to the hidden meaning in Margaret Ann’s words. “Just the same, everyone loves it here.”

  “Do they?” asked the duchess.

  “Indeed they do. Take Charles Whitfield for example. Everyone adores Charles, even if he is a little bit…shallow in his thinking. He has gone off to England to find his missing wife, but he will come back someday. Everyone comes back.”

  “His wife is missing?” Jedediah asked.

  “More like fled, if you ask me.” Margaret Ann answered. “A lass would have to be out of her wits to marry Charles. I suppose his wife thought she would be quite rich, him being the son of a wealthy gold mine owner. She was quite mistaken – Charles has no money of his own…which makes his wife as simpleminded as he.”

  Jedediah missed the fury in his wife’s glare and instead asked, “The same Whitfield who owns three of the mines in Cripple Creek?”

  “That’s the one.” Margaret Ann spotted the judge, waved him over and waited for him to arrive. “Mr. and Mrs. Tanner, this is Judge Mitchel.”

  An officer of the law was the last person either the duchess or Jedediah Tanner wanted to meet. Jedediah quickly covered his wife’s hand with his, tried to smile and nodded. “Judge.”

  “A pleasure.” Judge Mitchel said. “Have we met, Mrs. Tanner? I have seen your face before.”

  “I do not…”

  “I’ve got it, your photograph was in a Denver newspaper not long ago…something about a train robbery.”

  The duchess exchanged quick glances with her husband. “Was it? I did not know.”

  “That’s a pity. It was a very good likeness of you. You were on the train when it was robbed, I assume. I would like to hear about that.” When she started to say something, Judge Mitchel interrupted again. “You must make the acquaintance of Sheriff Thompson. He would love to hear about the robbery, as would the local newspaper editor. Sheriff Thompson is fascinated with robberies, murder and even bigamy.” He paused to let his words sink in and thought the duchess looked a little faint. “Margaret Ann, how are the MacGreagor’s this fine day.”

  Margaret Ann smiled. “Still Scottish, Your Honor.”

  “I know what you mean, but my wife’s accent is getting better.” He turned his attention back to Jedediah. “McKenna and I have only been married a few months. How long have you been married?”

  “Two days,” Jedediah answered.

  “Only two days? No wonder you look so happy. I warn you, there could be a few bumps in your marriage road. There have been in mine.”

  “Darling,” the duchess started.

  Again, Judge Mitchel interrupted. “I detect a British accent, Mrs. Tanner. What part of England are you from?”

  “London.” She gripped her husband’s arm a little tighter. “Perhaps we should be on our way.”

  “If you wish,” Jedediah said. He tipped his hat to Margaret Ann, then to the judge and walked his wife around them. The Tanners were beyond the hardware store before either of them remembered to breathe.

  Behind them, Margaret Ann pointed at the scorch mark and the judge had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

  Not two minutes later, the duchess was face to face with Keith. “Care for a train schedule?” Keith said, practically shoving the paper in the duchess’ hand. “Train leaves every day at noon and four o’clock. Of course, if you are going the opposite direction, the train…”

  “We are staying,” Jedediah said, tipping his hat.

  Keith tipped his hat too, and smiled after they walked past. He was certain the duchess recognized him and she did not look happy to see him. Nevertheless, he was happy – so happy, in fact, he grabbed Margaret Ann around the waist, kissed her, let go of her, tipped his hat to the judge and walked away. Behind him, he could hear her giggling and the Judge laughing. Roy Keith had not had this much fun in ages.

  *

  The duchess spotted a hat in the window of the hat shop, paused to look at it and then smiled at her husband. She was about to go inside when she saw McKenna through the window glaring at her. “Never mind, I do not need a new hat just now.”

  “Are you certain? You only have two,” he asked.

  “Perhaps we might come back later. Right now, I desire something to drink.”

  *

  While General Palmer, founder of Colorado Springs forbade spirits in the county, nearly everyone found a way around the ordinance. Besides, Sheriff Thompson was known to take a nip or two himself, and was hardly in a position to enforce that particular rule. Bartenders at the Antlers Hotel were prepared to hide forbidden beverages, should the General show up, but he rarely did. After all, their European guests expected their
favorite libation and their patronage brought a good deal of revenue to the town.

  For everyone else, the corner drugstore with its new soda fountain was the perfect place to gather, and sip away a multitude of ailments. Nearly every town had a soda fountain and a soda jerk to make the drinks. For the mere cost of buying the liquid carbonic fountain, the druggist also received a book on how to run it and several fruit recipes guaranteed to be delicious. In Colorado Springs, sodas were a big hit. At the druggist’s bidding, and to match each individual complaint, a pinch of cocaine, caffeine, opiate, various healing salts or plant extracts were mixed in the soda, and most customers went away feeling healthy, pain free and energized.

  When the duchess and her husband entered the soda fountain and got in line to place their order, patrons seated at the small tables behind her began to chuckle. Soon, they were outright laughing and although the duchess glanced around, she saw nothing amusing at all. Distracted, she failed to notice who was in front of her, although she should have recognized Millie’s flaming red hair.

  In a small mirror above the fountain, Millie knew exactly who was standing behind her. She paid for her drink, quickly spun around and ‘accidentally’ spilled her black cherry soda down the front of the duchess’s suit.

  Knowing the duchess’ foul temper well, Millie quickly moved out of reach. “Oh, my word, do forgive me,” she said. She mockingly curtsied and then darted out the door. She walked up the street and it would be a long time before Millie stopped grinning. A cold sticky soda was sweet revenge for the hot tea the duchess threw on her a year earlier.

  Jedediah stood with his mouth agape. “Come back here!” he shouted at Millie, but by the time he got to the door, Alistair and Prescot stepped in front of him. He huffed, swore under his breath, and then returned to his very upset wife. “Come, I shall take you back to the hotel.”

  The duchess was beyond furious. She ignored the hysterically laughing drugstore patrons and glared at the two butlers blocking her retreat. Even though her fierce glare demanded they move, the butlers took their time parting so the couple could pass between them. By the time the Tanners got outside, Millie was long gone.