He wrapped his arm around her and rubbed her back a little. “I beg of you, do not cry. Is it your husband’s passing? Have we been most cruel in not taking it into consideration?”
At that, the duchess burst into sobs and wrapped her arm around his neck. It took longer than she hoped, but there it was –a gasp in the open doorway let her know Emma had arrived. She lingered a moment more, and then lifted her head and stared at the intruder.
Yannick was more than alarmed when he noticed his fiancée. He quickly let go of the duchess and jumped up. “Emma, it is not what you think.”
“Of course, it is not,” the duchess said, although the slight smile on her face said otherwise.
“She was crying and I only came to comfort her.” Emma put her hands on her hips and it was clear she did not believe a word of it. “Darling, look at her,” he insisted. “Can you not tell she has been crying?”
Emma came closer, saw Kate’s red eyes, looped her arm around his, and began pulling him toward the door. “Forgive me for doubting you. She must rest now, Yannick. We shall have her dinner sent up, and I am certain your aunt and uncle will understand. The four of us shall have a most peaceful evening…for a change.”
He nodded, glanced back, and then left the room with his intended. Behind him, the duchess slowly closed her eyes. She thought to throw something at the door, but could find nothing within reach. What was she to do now?
*
The birthday celebration began early the next morning with just enough time to gobble down a meal before Yannick was required to greet the arriving guests.
The duchess was surprised when he left the table and Emma did not go with him. She waited until they were the only ones left before she asked, “Are you not required to greet the guests as well?”
“Yannick has not asked me to stand with him, and I have not offered.”
“You are upset by it?”
“Not particularly. I knew how I would be treated before I left America. When one expects it, one is not surprised. I confess you were a surprise, Kate Wagner. I had not expected to find such a worthy opponent.”
A brilliant idea suddenly occurred to the duchess – why not pretend to be on Emma’s side? “Nor I you. I have quite enjoyed you, Emma. Tell me, do you not find Yannick’s manner a bit odd?”
“Odd in what way?”
“It is unlike a man to let someone insult the woman he loves, yet Yannick say not a word in protest.”
“I asked about that and he said it is good practice for what is to come. His family would surely not accept a woman who could not hold her own in a…tisk, I believe is what he called it.”
“I see.” Indeed, she did see. No wonder she had not managed to upset Emma.
“I hear them arguing in the night.”
“Who?” the duchess asked.
“Yannick and his Uncle. His Uncle says you are a more fitting wife for him than I am.”
“Me?” the duchess gasped. “I have no intention of marrying so soon after…and certainly not to Yannick. My dear, your fiancé is perfectly safe with me.”
“You mean you have not intentionally tried to tempt him away?” she patted Kate’s hand. “You need not answer. I suspect you were sent to do just that, and I am pleased he was not easily persuaded. I love him more now than I ever thought possible.”
“I must say, I envy you. I desperately loved a man once.”
“We, who do love so completely, makes us the most fortunate women of all.”
“What will happen now?” the duchess asked.
“We shall not get the blessing of his family, of that I am convinced, but we shall marry as soon as we are home. It is all arranged. We shall marry, that is, unless his uncle strictly forbids it. If that happens, I do not know what Yannick will do.” She giggled. “I may very well be reduced to becoming a kept woman.”
The duchess laughed. “A mistress? How exciting.”
“Until my father threatens to shoot Yannick for not marrying me.”
“Many such arrangements have been made before. Even kings have been known to keep a mistress or two.”
“In another country?”
“I admit, an ocean between the two of you could be a bother. You could live here.”
“And see him with his wife often? I could not bear it,” said Emma.
“Well then, we must hope his uncle does not strictly forbid it. There was a time when the British looked down upon the Scots the way they do American’s now. Perhaps someday we shall approve of them.”
“Perhaps…someday.” Emma smiled, got up and went out the door.
*
All morning, the duchess stayed in her room and tried to think what to do. The truth be told, she liked Emma. She liked her, right up until she remembered that breaking up their relationship was the only way she could get back into London society. She severely scolded herself for going soft; it was not like her at all. In the afternoon, she went for a walk in gardens she had managed to ignore so far, and at last, she had a stroke of genius. She knew precisely what she had to do and just how to do it. It was simple really – a lie concerning the American’s past associations was all it would take.
As she dressed for the evening in a low-cut lavender ball gown, with a number of small pearls scattered across the bodice, Lady Husher sent word that they had arrived. Yet, there was no time to talk before the first event was set to begin, and therefore she could not explain why Emma was still there, and that all hope was not yet lost. That is exactly what she meant to whisper in Lady Husher’s ear when she greeted her. At last, the duchess let the lady’s maid clasp Lady Husher’s elaborate and expensive, multiple stringed pearls around her neck, and went downstairs.
The instant she was escorted into the large room where a concert was to take place, the duchess forgot all about Emma, Yannick, the Grand Duke, and the Hushers.
He was the last person in the world she thought she would ever see again, but there he was – Hannish MacGreagor’s detestable footman, Egan, standing beside the pianist. Egan looked right at her, and left no doubt he knew exactly who she was.
Intense fear of being exposed gripped her so completely, smiling, nodding, talking, walking, and being shown to a chair was but a blur. Her world was crumbling again, brick by brick, just like those in front of the ancient ruins of a once splendid and celebrated castle.
She considered running, but before she knew it, she was seated next to Yannick in the third row with no easy escape. Slowly, the duchess brought her gloved hand up and touched the pearls she was promised if she managed to ruin Yannick’s marriage plans. She loved those perfect pearls and now Egan MacGreagor was going to spoil it all.
She kept her eyes glued on him until he moved away from the vaguely familiar pianist, and went to find a seat in the back. She was convinced it was not her imagination…she could literally feel Egan staring at the back of her head. She tried desperately to concentrate on the music, the decorations, anything but the terror that was gripping her very soul. It worked for a time, but when the pianist began her third concerto, the duchess could bear it no longer and dared to look back.
Egan was gone.
In the main foyer, Egan whispered, “Rotten eggs,” after he asked the operator to put his call through to America. He didn’t expect it to be connected right away, and was willing to wait in the foyer for as long as it took, but the lateness of the hour and calling from a telephone number assigned to royalty had its advantages. The call went right through.
About to head to work, Hannish took the call in his study and instantly recognized the voice on the other end. “Egan, what is it, what is wrong?”
So no one could overhear, Egan changed from speaking English to Gaelic. “We are in Luxembourg, and you shall never guess who else is here – the duchess.”
“In Luxembourg?”
“Aye, and sitting beside the Grand Duke’s nephew.”
“Good heavens, has she married him yet?”
“I dinna think so. He introduced her
as Kate Wagner and nothing more. We have said nothing, but I feel I should. What should I do?”
“Can you put the nephew on?”
“The concert is not yet over.”
“Ask that he be brought to the telephone. Say it is urgent.”
Egan motioned for the doorman to come to him, whispered in his ear and then watched as the alarmed man went to get Yannick. “The duchess will likely kill you and I both for this,” he said to Hannish.
“How long will you be there?”
“We go back to the hotel tonight and leave on the train in the mornin’. Malveen is scheduled to play in Paris next week.”
“I see. Be on your guard.”
“Mr. Hannish, George Graham died in London. It was in the papers.”
“The same George Graham?”
“The notice said he was a Scottish stonemason, so I believe it was.”
“I agree. When will we see you?”
“If all goes well, in February as we planned.”
“Give Malveen our love, and tell her we are all eager to see you both. Call when you get to Paris. Egan, you must call more often, we…”
“Here he is, Mr. Hannish.” Egan gave the earpiece to a concerned Yannick and stepped away. Whatever Hannish was saying on the other end, made Yannick’s mouth drop and then his fist begin to clench, open and clench again.
At length, Yannick hung up the telephone, pulled Egan aside and asked, “Is it true?”
“Aye, ‘tis true, I lived in the castle when she was Duchess of Glenartair.”
“And she is dangerous?”
“She is prone to lash out at servants, when she thinks she can get away with it.”
Yannick closed his eyes and hung his head. “We must not spoil my Uncle’s celebration, it might be his last. He straightened his maroon silk jacket, braced himself and went back to the concert. As if nothing was wrong, he retook his seat between Emma and the duchess, and smiled to reassure them both.
*
In an upstairs sitting room, Lady Husher sat beside her husband on one side of the room. Malveen and Egan sat on a davenport on the other side, the duchess had the good sense to stand behind a chair, and each watched as Yannick paced back and forth between them. Abruptly, he stopped and looked at Lady Husher. “Your interference is unpardonable.”
“I agree,” said Lord Husher.
“Do not pretend, Uncle, that you did not know what she was up to. I shall never believe it. I’ve a good mind to let this get out.”
“You would not dare,” Lady Husher said.
“You dared,” Yannick shot back. “Did you not hear Mr. MacGreagor say she has six or seven husbands?”
Egan didn’t need to look at her to know full well the duchess was glaring at him. “That we know of,” he muttered anyway.
“There, you see, she could have twenty or even thirty, as old as she is.”
At that, the duchess caught her breath. “I am…”
“SILENCE!” Yannick shouted. “I will hear nothing from you, do you understand…nothing!”
“Think, Yannick, think,” Lady Husher urged. “If it gets out, a scandal of this sort shall be borne by the entire family.”
“At which time,” Yannick shot back, “the entire family will know better than to forbid me to marry the woman I love. Make no mistake, I shall marry Emma, like it or not.”
“She is an American, Yannick.”
Yannick stiffly pointed his first finger at the duchess. “She is British and what has that gotten us?”
“Scottish,” Egan muttered, “though we are not proud to claim her.”
“Scottish?” an even more horrified Lady Husher asked.
Yannick went back to his pacing, and then once more abruptly stopped, only this time in front of the duchess. “What did she promise you?”
The duchess defiantly narrowed her eyes. “You just said you wanted to hear nothing from me.”
“So I did, and I was right. You would only fill this room with more lies. I have instructed the maids to gather your things, and my coachman waits outside to take you to the hotel. I strongly advise you to leave Luxembourg as soon as possible.”
“I haven’t the funds,” the duchess boldly said.
Lady Husher clicked her tongue on the top of her mouth. “I gave you more than enough to get home before you left.”
“I spent it,” the duchess lied.
“On what?” Yannick demanded. “I have not heard of you going shopping.” He watched her turn her nose up and look away. “You shall walk, and I shall be happy to send a man to follow you to the border, just to make certain you leave this country. You are not welcome here!”
“She is not welcome in London ever again either,” said Lord Husher. “I shall see to that.”
There was nothing left to say, and she was tired of being chastised, so the duchess turned and left the room. She let the butler help her put on her coat, watched her traveling bags being loaded on the back of the carriage, and then went outside and climbed in. As soon as it pulled away, a slow smile crossed her face. She pulled off her glove and admired the diamond and sapphire ring, undid the top button of her coat and touched the expensive string of pearls around her neck.
*
Egan expected he and his wife would be on the same train from Luxembourg to Paris as the duchess, for there was only one each day, with just one passenger compartment. For that reason, he guided Malveen to the back of the car and sat in the last possible seats. Hopefully, they would not have to deal with the duchess, and if they did, he could see her coming.
As it was, she got on after they did, glanced around, shot him her most ferocious glare and chose a seat in the front. The truth be told, she cared not about Egan or any of the other MacGreagors, it was Hannish that was on her mind.
Her last hope of rejoining London Society was now gone, not that she ever truly believed Lady Husher would find a way to get her back in. Her fate was surely sealed, she had not slept a wink all night, and she was so upset she wanted to cry.
Once more, Hannish MacGreagor had ruined her life.
Yet, there were no tears in her. Instead, she needed a plan – a new plan that was certain to work. Paris, yes, Paris had many a wealthy man and becoming a countess was just as good as being a duchess. But then, many of London’s society shopped in Paris, and how long would it be before she was again found out?
She considered India, and immediately set that thought aside. She could go to Germany, Spain, or the Netherlands perhaps. No one would ever find her there, yet she knew none of those languages and would be confined to associating only with those who spoke English until she learned. That would take forever. There was one place she could go…one place where everyone spoke English and it was a place where hardly anyone knew who she was – America.
The thought made her cringe, but why not America? They had their share of wealthy men - more than their fair share. Of course, many of them lived in Colorado, and that would not do, but perhaps she might try New York City or Boston.
The duchess was feeling better already. With any luck, she had just enough money to book a voyage and pay for her accommodations in America for a month or two. That should be just enough time to attract an unmarried man of wealth. Perhaps she could manage to meet a Vanderbilt, a Rockefeller, or one of the Carnegies. J.D. Rockefeller lived in Cleveland, Ohio, she believed. Yes, that was it, she would go to Cleveland and find a way to meet someone in his family.
After that, she would just see about making Hannish MacGreagor as miserable as he had made her. Indeed, she could make him pay far more easily once they resided in the same country.
CHAPTER 13
November brought the first dusting of snow to the Rocky Mountains. It was a time of warm fires, long coats, knitted sweaters and hot cocoa, a cup of which Leesil was sipping when Prescot brought her a letter from Cathleen.
My dearest sister and family,
I fear the news from our side of the world is not as good as it might oth
erwise be. The workers at Cameron’s loom building and repair shop are voting this very moment to join a trade union.
As my husband explained it, it means our ruination, or at least the ruination of the business. To pay the exorbitant wages unions require, on threat of walking out, Cameron would have to raise his prices. Unfortunately, the mills are also having union problems, and must raise their prices accordingly. Where it ends, he explains, is in the purse of the common man who can least afford higher prices for such things as cotton.
Beloved sister, Cameron has said more than once, that he thinks to give up the castle and move to America. What are we to do, lock the doors and simply sail away? Glenartair Village could not survive it, and the clan, which is already spread to the four corners of the earth, would be lost to us forever.
Perhaps, this too shall pass.
My time nears, and Cameron shall call when the happy event is over. He tries to give off an air of calm, but he manages it quite poorly, I confess.
I love you so, and my heart is torn between staying to save the ancient land of the MacGreagors and going to you in America. I can’t think Cameron would be happy there, but if he is determined, I shall not protest and do as he wishes.
All our love,
Cathleen, Cameron, Blair and baby Anna or Kevin. We so hope you like the names we have chosen. How could you not, for they are from the first story told in the family history.
*
“Perhaps she is unwell,” Elizabeth suggested.
Dinner that night consisted of just the family with Shepard and Dugan serving tomato soup, olives, and gherkins, braised veal cutlets with currant jelly, parsnip fritters, sweet potatoes, asparagus salad, sliced pineapple, cake, and coffee.
“Abigail is never unwell, and lonely again now that Loretta has moved into her house in town,” said Leesil. “I say we do not look too closely at the situation, and simply enjoy a dinner without her.”
“I do like her,” Moan mentioned.
“As do I,” Elizabeth admitted. “She is most entertainin’”
“And we like Gloria,” said Paulette.
Leesil dipped her spoon in the soup and ate it before she reached in her pocket and pulled out the letter. “I do not wish to spoil our meal, but I have heard from Cathleen and all is not well with Cameron’s business.”
Marblestone Mansion, Book 6 Page 17
