Marblestone Mansion, Book 7

by Marti Talbott

  “Miss Sarah is watchin’ the babies, so we have come to say goodnight,” Beverly announced.

  As he always did, Justin rushed to Hannish first, while Blair went to Cathleen.

  “Your grandchildren?” Leesil announced to Mrs. O’Connell. “He is my son, Justin, and she is Cathleen and Cameron’s daughter, Blair.”

  “Blair and Justin,” Mrs. O’Connell said, nodding first to one and then the other before she consumed the last drop of wine in her glass.

  Both children hugged their parents, ignored the strangers and raced back out of the dining room. Beverly quickly curtsied, and addressed Leesil. “Kate is just now wakin’ up.”

  “Thank you, Beverly.” She watched the nanny rush after the children, and stood up. “If you will excuse me, I must feed the baby.”

  “I shall go with you,” Cathleen said, leaving her chair as well.

  After Prescot closed the door, and the men sat back down to finish their dinner, Mrs. Doyle smiled at Cameron. “They are clever girls, I will say that.”

  “More so than you think,” Cameron said.

  “Mrs. O’Connell is a drunk, you are aware,” she added, as she scooped the last spoonful of pudding out of her dish and put it in her mouth.

  Mrs. O’Connell was not pleased. “You need not speak of me as though I am not here, Mrs. Doyle.”

  “Perhaps she has reason to drink,” Hannish put in.

  “Nor more so than I,” Mrs. Doyle argued.

  There was little to be said to that, so Hannish finished his dessert and then asked in a louder voice than was necessary, “Shall we have tea in the parlor?”

  “I agree,” Cameron said. He stood up, waited for the women to rise and for Brookton to open the door. This time, neither of the butlers were caught standing closer to the door than was normal.

  In the parlor, Mrs. O’Connell found a place to sit on the settee while Mrs. Doyle paused to look at the painting. “Is this the castle?”

  “Aye, before it burned,” Cameron admitted.

  “I truly am sorry for that,” she said. Slowly, she walked around the room, admiring the other paintings, the gold rim clock on the mantle, and a large crystal vase with an assortment of dried fall flowers in it. “Such splendor. You have done well for yourselves,” she said as she took a seat on the davenport.

  “Indeed they have,” Mrs. O’Connell agreed.

  Mrs. Doyle ignored her rival. “You are both idle now I suppose,” she said to Hannish.

  Hannish saw no real need to explain, but it was something to talk about while they waited for the sisters to come back. “We build houses.”

  “And hope to sell them, if the strike ever ends,” Cameron added. He was tired of sitting and chose to stand up. It was unusual for both of the butlers to be manning the front door, and it wasn’t hard to guess why. All they needed was for a third mother to show up. Hopefully, it was too late in the evening for that.

  *

  Upstairs in Leesil’s sitting room, Anna had fallen fast asleep, and Kate was about to. They were waiting for Beverly to put Justin to bed and come watch the babies, so they could go back downstairs.

  “Well?” Cathleen asked after she put Anna in her cradle and returned to her floral covered, cushioned chair.

  “I know no more now, than I did before they came. Neither look familiar, both have a believable story, and…”

  “Believable?” Cathleen scoffed. “I’d sooner believe Mrs. Doyle than Mrs. O’Connell, and I do not believe Mrs. Doyle’s story for a single second.”

  “Well, someone surely abandoned us, why not one of them?”

  “Aye, but it could be the next lass who comes to claim us, or the one after that.”

  Leesil put a cloth over her shoulder and then put baby Kate upright against it. “Cathleen, what story would you believe?”

  She thought about that for a moment before she answered. “The truth would do.”

  “Which is?”

  “Which is…our mother dinna want us.”

  “But now that we are wealthy, she does?” Leesil asked.

  “Precisely.”

  “And when she admits it, what do you desire to do? Hurt her as much as you are hurt? Sister, I never knew you resented our being put in the orphanage so deeply.”

  “I might not, had it only been me. But Leesil, you are the one who suffered most.”

  Leesil shook her head. “Yet, I had you, and no sister or mother could have loved me more.” As soon as Beverly opened the door, Leesil sighed and let her take Kate out of her arms. “She needs burpin’.”

  Beverly nodded, and put Kate on her shoulder. “Is there anything you need? I would be happy to let Dugan know, if there is some way we can…”

  “We are quite well,” Leesil interrupted, “but I thank you.”

  *

  By the time the sisters got back to the parlor, their husbands were still talking about the construction company, and the problems they were having with the union. Shepard was still there, waiting to serve tea to the sisters, and both butlers still stood guard at the doorway between the parlor and the foyer.

  “I was wonderin’, Mother,” Cathleen began after she made herself comfortable beside Mrs. O’Connell on the settee, “if you were offered a good sum of money to say you are not our mother, would you take it?”

  “Sister,” Leesil interrupted, “what a wretched thing to suggest.”

  “How much money?” Mrs. O’Connell asked.

  “Well, I would need to ask my husband, but enough to see you back to New York, and keep you comfortable for a time after,” Cathleen answered.

  Mrs. O’Connell bowed her head for a moment. “Oh I see, you are a duchess and you’d not like your company knowin’ your mother is a commoner.”

  “Now, you’ve done it,” Leesil moaned.

  For the first time all day, Cathleen felt a touch of regret. “I dinna mean it like that.”

  “If it is all the same to you,” Mrs. O’Connell said, “I am tired and I would like to go to my rest.”

  She started to stand up, but Cathleen put out her hand to stop her. “In a moment, if you please. Would you care for the same offer, Mrs. Doyle?”

  Befuddled, Mrs. O’Connell wrinkled her brow and stared at the woman seated across from her.

  “She is claiming to be our mother too, you see,” said Cathleen.

  “Is she?” asked Mrs. O’Connell. “I should like to hear her answer myself.”

  Mrs. Doyle looked unperturbed. “‘Tis true, I could use the money,” she answered, “but I require more than you offered her.”

  “How much more?” an astonished Leesil asked.

  Cameron cleared his throat. “To end the matter, I offer five hundred dollars to the only who confesses.”

  “Five hundred dollars?” Cathleen gasped. “Can you not see they are both lyin’?”

  “Let them answer,” Cameron demanded.

  Hannish exchanged glances with his brother, looked first at Mrs. Doyle and then at Mrs. O’Connell. Neither woman accepted the offer, and instead stared at each other.

  At last, Mrs. Doyle said, “I wish to think about it.”

  “As do I,” Mrs. O’Connell agreed.

  For once, both Leesil and Cathleen were speechless. There was nothing left to say, and when the mothers wished to go to their rooms, the MacGreagors were relieved.

  Alistair went immediately to the kitchen to send the lady’s maids up to help their guests, and then told the rest of the servants what was happening.

  “Which one is the real one?” Cook Jessie asked.

  Alistair frowned, “I believe Cathleen is right, neither is their mother.”

  “Well, I hope they get what’s comin’ to ‘em,” Jessie said, “for pullin’ such a hoax.”

  “I favor Mrs. Doyle,” Brookton said as he brought another tray of dirty dishes in from the main dining room. “The other one…” He simply shook his head, grabbed an empty tray and walked out of the kitchen.

  That nigh
t, Leesil paced the upstairs sitting room long after everyone else had gone to bed, trying to remember if either woman seemed familiar. She could not. It was too long ago and too cloudy in her memory.

  CHAPTER 9

  Rested and bathed, both mothers were packed and ready to go back to town, but first they were invited to share breakfast with the MacGreagors. At breakfast, neither Mrs. Doyle nor Mrs. O’Connell had anything to say, and the sisters could think of no more questions. Hannish and Cameron exchanged small talk, of no interest whatsoever to the women, and felt quite out of place doing it. Occasionally, the two mothers exchanged glances, and everyone, including Brookton, wondered if the two of them had talked in the night. Perhaps they were in on the fraud together.

  Cathleen waited until they were finished eating before she said, “My husband has offered five hundred dollars to either, or both, if first you confess you are not our mother.” She expected a quick answer, but it was not to be. Instead, the two mothers once more exchanged glances.

  “We could split it,” Mrs. O’Connell said to Mrs. Doyle, finally.

  Mrs. Doyle smiled. “That would teach them. They would go through the rest of their lives wonderin’ which of us was tellin’ the truth.”

  “Indeed they would,” Mrs. O’Connell agreed.

  “I dinna believe either of you,” said Cathleen.

  “But Leesil does,” said Mrs. Doyle. “I can see it in her eyes.”

  “I would like to know for certain, ‘tis true,” said Leesil, “but neither of you have proof.”

  “The proof is in the faces of your brothers and your sister,” Mrs. Doyle answered, standing up. “Alas, I tire of this and wish to go home where I am wanted.”

  “Without the money?” Mrs. O’Connell asked.

  Mrs. Doyle paused. “I wager you could use it more than me, but I think a split is fair. I shall simply give my half back when they ask me to come again.”

  Cameron drew in a long breath. It was not how he hoped it would turn out, but an offer was an offer not to be taken back. He pulled the money out of his pocket divided it, and handed half to each woman.

  “Is the carriage ready?” Mrs. O’Connell asked.

  “Aye, ‘tis waitin’,” Hannish answered. The MacGreagors followed the women into the marble foyer where both butlers waited to show them out.

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Doyle,” said Leesil.

  “I shall call in a month or two, to see if you wish me to come back,” she said.

  Cathleen rolled her eyes, but Leesil smiled and nodded as Prescot escorted her out the door.

  Before she went to the door, Mrs. O’Connell turned to Leesil. “Last night was the first time I dinna hear your screams as I closed my eyes to sleep.” She took hold of Leesil’s hand, turned it palm up and put her half of the money in it. “You kept Cathleen safe, just as I told you to. ‘Tis more than enough payment for me.” She let go of Leesil’s hand, looked at Cathleen, nodded, and then started to walk out the door.

  Leesil’s eyes filled with tears, “No, Mother, dinna go. I remember now.”

  “You do?” an astonished Cathleen asked. She stared as Leesil flew into her mother’s arms. This time, both mother and daughter wept uncontrollably, and even if she couldn’t believe it, at last Cathleen’s heart softened. When her mother held out her hand, Cathleen went to her too.

  “We must stop Mrs. Doyle,” Cameron whispered to his brother.

  “Nay, let her go,” Hannish put his arm on his brother’s shoulder and urged him back into the parlor. He watched as the sisters brought their mother back inside, and then took her upstairs.

  “I feared both would turn the money down, but Mrs. O’Connell outsmarted Mrs. Doyle.”

  “Indeed she did. Will Mrs. Doyle truly call someday, do you suppose?”

  “Aye, she will have spent the money by then and shall want more. When she calls, we shall insist she come for another visit,” Hannish said.

  “And have the sheriff waiting when she does?”

  “Aye.”

  Cameron smiled, walked through the foyer, and went out the front door. He went to the carriage, told Mrs. Doyle that Mrs. O’Connell would be leaving later, retrieved Mrs. O’Connell’s traveling bag, and sent the carriage to town.

  *

  After Cameron and Hannish left for work, word spread quickly that Mrs. O’Connell was the real mother, and the servants were shocked and then delighted. By evening, most of them could see a resemblance after all.

  That night, when Cameron came back from the construction company, Cathleen flew into his arms. “More tears?” he asked, as he pulled back to look at her face.

  “Tears of joy. Oh Cameron, now I understand why Leesil protected me the way she did. She was doing what Mother told her, even if she dinna remember it.”

  “You like her now?”

  Cathleen wiped her tears away with both hands. “She is quite wonderful. I find knowing who we are and where we came from, gives me an odd peace.” Cathleen suddenly giggled. “You must warn Hannish; Leesil wants to buy her everything.”

  Cameron laughed and walked his wife up the stairs. “Where are my beloved daughters? I missed them almost as much as I missed you this day, and Blair normally meets me at the door.”

  She giggled, “Your daughters have a grandmother now. Is it not glorious?”

  “Aye, ‘tis glorious.”

  *

  In the kitchen, the servants were in a hurry. There was dinner to finish for the family and sandwiches to pack for those who were going to the first barn dance of the season. Not everyone was going, but Shepard was and so was Elaine. In fact, that morning Mr. Lester offered to pick her up and asked if some of the others would act as chaperons. Brookton offered, and so did Ronan. Of course, no one was going anywhere without Cook Jessie and Cook Halen – and that was that! As it turned out, the married couples stayed home and let the unmarried go. As long as no new mothers arrived, they believed all would go well.

  As he promised, Mr. Lester arrived right on time. He drove a shiny, clean carriage in which he could comfortably transport four of Marblestone’s servants. He quickly got down and helped Elaine and Marie aboard, and waited for Brookton and Ronan to climb in, before he returned to the driver’s seat.

  The MacGreagor’s larger carriage, with Henry driving, took on both of the cooks, Harriet, Grace and Shepard. Off they went, giddy with excitement as they drove down the hill, across town and down a road to a barn belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Lamont. It seemed half the town was already there. Carriages and wagons were parked along both sides of the dirt road, bright lights were on in the barn and they could already hear the lively music coming from inside.

  “This is more like it,” Brookton said, as he helped the cooks out of the carriage. He took Cook Halen’s hand and wrapped it around his arm. “May I have the first dance?”

  She playfully batted her eyes and pretended to blush. “You may, but you best not step on my toes, young man.”

  Brookton winked, “I know better than to step on the cook’s toes.”

  Inside, two sets of four couples were ready for the next square dance to begin. The musicians included three fiddlers, a harmonica player, a man and his accordion, and a drummer. Next to them, a caller stood on a wooden box and as soon as the music started, he began to shout instructions, beginning with bow to your partner. In rapid succession, he shouted, “allemande left, swing your partner, and dosado.”

  Instead of the usual black taffeta, the women wore frilly blouses with colorful skirts, while most of the men wore overall over white shirts or long john tops. On the wooden floor, their shoes tapped to the beat of the drummer, and smiles graced all their faces.

  “‘Tis not unlike the way we dance in Scotland,” an amazed Cook Jessie said.

  Shepard leaned closer, “I believe that’s where we got it? Would you care to…”

  “I care to watch for a while,” Jessie interrupted.

  Shepard nodded and headed for a table in the back where cherry juice,
lemonade and peach nectar had been set out for the guests. The stronger libations were out behind the barn, where the women and the preacher could pretend not to know about it. He declined the juices and went out the door for the first of far too many strong drinks.

  When the music stopped, a third and fourth block of four couples took up their positions. The third group included Brookton and Cook Halen, and Shepard, who was with a pretty blonde no one had ever seen before. Apparently, she had seen him before, for she nodded and took his hand right off. In the fourth block, Adam Mr. Lester and Elaine smiled at each other, and as soon as the music started again, they danced perfectly together. It was as though they had been partners all their lives.

  “I have never seen Elaine smile so much,” Cook Jessie said to Ronan, the only other Marblestone Scot among them.

  “I suspect we are about to lose our help in the kitchen,” Ronan returned.

  Cook Jessie nodded. “Aye.”

  Ronan bowed to Jessie. “We might as well learn it now, for I hope to attend every barn dance I can.” He took her hand, watched another couple and then practiced the dosado. When they had that down, they tried swing your partner, only this time he took one too many steps and turned Jessie the wrong way. That’s when he noticed Harriet, Marie and Grace laughing at them, put his hands on his hips and glared at all three.

  While Ronan wasn’t looking, an older man drew closer to Cook Jessie and asked, “May I be of assistance?”

  Jessie grinned at him, “Rescue me? I should be forever grateful if you would.” He smiled and offered his hand. To her relief, the stranger talked her through each step, telling her what to expect and stopping when she got confused.

  “I am Josh Foreman,” he said when he let her rest, finally.

  “Jessie MacGreagor,” she replied.

  “Jessie MacGreagor, would you like something to drink, Lemonade, perhaps?” When she nodded, he went off to get it for her.

  Meanwhile, Harriet, Marie and Grace took turns trying to teach Ronan. They constantly laughed at him, and were about to declare him unteachable when the music stopped.