Marblestone Mansion, Book 8

by Marti Talbott

  Gloria roamed around the room, while Lillie Mae twiddled her thumbs, and Blair stared at the floor. To ease the tension, Gloria said, “If it is any comfort, I believe the part where she said you are fourteen and not thirteen, as we always believed.”

  Blair nodded. “Which means I am past old enough to wear long dresses.” Blair might have smiled and even laughed if the circumstances had been different, but she found little delight in the knowledge just now. “Is it not odd she came here to see me?”

  “I am happy she did,” Abigail said. “Here, we could stop her from taking you against your will.”

  “Mother,” said Gloria, “I do not believe she would have. She wants something from Blair and needs her to be cooperative. Taking her against her will would not insure that.”

  “She wants me to claim my inheritance,” Blair muttered.

  “And give it to her,” Abigail added. “With that one, it is always about money.”

  “Perhaps,” Lillie Mae put in, “she grew up poverty stricken.”

  Abigail scoffed, “She grew up selfish, is my guess.”

  “And quite beautiful,” Gloria added. “Blair’s resemblance to her is remarkable.”

  “Is it?” Blair asked.

  “Were her hair black and her youth retained, you would nearly be identical,” Gloria answered. “I have no doubt she is your mother.”

  “My long, lost mother,” Blair muttered. “How very unfair not to know about her all these years. Someone should have told me.” Her anger was beginning to flair. “Father should have told me. I trusted him.” Caught between anger and tears, Blair looked at the clock, realized it was after three and bolted out the door.

  “Blair, wait?” Abigail shouted. She was too late. By the time Abigail opened the front door, Blair was already halfway down the path with Lillie Mae and Gloria right behind her. Abigail sighed, hurried across the lawn, and started down the path.

  CHAPTER 10

  The duchess reached the train station just in time, hopped out of the buggy, and darted down the busy platform. She boarded the first passenger car she came to, found a seat and then unpinned her hat once more. This time, when she put it back on, she tilted it toward the window and used it to hide her whole face. What she feared most was that the Provost had seen her, or worse, Hannish was there. Terrified, she dare not expose enough of her face to find out. If anyone tried to prevent her from fleeing, especially Hannish, she would have to shoot them. Maybe someday she would shoot him anyway, but not today. She had a wedding to tend to in Chicago.

  She withdrew the second half of the round trip ticket from her purse, handed it to the conductor when he came to collect, and then sank even lower in her seat. At last, the train blew its whistle and slowly started to pull away.

  Several minutes later, she dared to relax. The duchess took off her spectacles, sat up straight, adjusted her hat, and began to analyze what just happened. She had hoped Blair would think going away with her real mother exciting and adventurous, but that detestable Mrs. Whitfield persuaded her daughter otherwise. What an unfortunate encounter that was. The duchess had half a mind to go back and teach that woman a hard lesson. Maybe she would do that someday too, after all, she promised Blair she would come back. Of course, the MacGreagors would be lying in wait for her next time.

  Clearly, the duchess needed a new plan.

  She had one very sad regret – that she would not be there when Blair confronted Cameron. He would say hateful things about her, the duchess knew, for he never liked her, but would Blair believe him? A seed of doubt had been carefully planted, and the duchess was quite proud of herself. She knew very well how such things go. Once trust is lost, it is rarely gotten back again.

  The duchess thoughtfully smiled. In a month or two, the MacGreagors would have the book in their hot little hands. What a joy and comfort that thought was. Certainly, once she read it, Blair would know the duchess lied, but shaming Hannish publicly was well worth it. The more the duchess thought about it, the more she believed having it published was a stroke of brilliance on Maude Okerman’s part. No sweeter revenge could she imagine than that.

  If only she were in England and privy to all the gossip. How she would delight in hearing the reactions to her book. More than one man in London’s splendid society had a great deal of explaining to do, and they deserved to be uncomfortable, at best. Men were far more prone to gossip than women, and by now, they were likely discussing exactly who Blair’s father was.

  The duchess folded her hands in her lap and sighed. Had Maude Okerman discovered that Blair is still alive yet? She tried to think of someone in London she could call, but alas, there was no one save Laura, and getting Laura to talk was more futile than trying to get an audience with the king.

  *

  It was unusual for Cameron and Hannish to be home on a Saturday, but once the sky darkened and threatened rain, Hannish sent all the workmen away and the brothers came home.

  “No running in the house,” Hannish shouted as his son raced past the study door.

  Justin stopped. “Oh, there you are, Father. Traitor ran off with the baseball again.”

  “Did he? Ask the cooks for a bone, offer it to the dog, and perhaps he shall make a trade.”

  Justin was thrilled with the idea. “I shall, Father.” He was about to run off when Cameron stopped him.

  “Justin, where is Blair?”

  The boy turned to face his uncle. “I forgot I was to tell you she has gone to the Whitfields.”

  “I see,” said Cameron.

  Hannish was not pleased. “Justin, you must not forget something that important,” Hannish scolded. “Did she say when she would be back?”

  “Nay, Father.”

  “Very well, you may go now, but as the eldest laddie, you must help us keep care over the lassies. Do you understand?”

  “Aye, Father, but they do not do as I say.”

  Hannish smiled. “There is a difference between keeping care over them, and having them obey your commands. Perhaps ‘tis a good time to talk about it. Sit down, son.”

  Reluctantly, Justin did as his father said. He was far more interested in getting the baseball away from the dog.

  *

  Blair fled across Marblestone’s backyard, pulled open the door, ran down the hall, and into the parlor. “Father, where are you?” she shouted.

  Her tone was such and her yell so un-characteristically loud, both Alistair and Prescott came running. Hannish and Cameron rushed out of the study, and at the same time, Leesil and Cathleen started down the stairs.

  “Are you hurt?” a wide-eyed Cameron asked as he rushed to Blair.

  Tears were running down her cheeks when she screamed, “You should have told me!”

  “Told you what?” Cameron asked, taking hold of her shoulders.

  Just then, Gloria and Lillie Mae ran into the room. “Her mother was here,” said Gloria.

  “What?” Hannish asked. “Where is she?”

  “Gone,” Gloria answered. “She wanted to take Blair with her, but Blair refused to go.”

  Blair’s tears had turned to sobs. She wiggled free of Cameron’s grasp and plopped down on the settee.

  Just as quickly, Lillie Mae sat beside her. “Please do not cry.”

  “Her…mother?” a shocked Justin asked.

  Nearly out of breath, Abigail finally entered the parlor, stopped at the door, put her hand over her heart, and gasped, “She had a gun.”

  The room was beginning to fill with curious servants and children, so Hannish looked at Alistair. “Send all the servants and the children outside. ‘Tis a family matter.”

  “Aye,” said Alistair. The servants were reluctant to go, but when Alistair glared, they scurried from the room.

  When the butler glared at Lillie Mae, Blair said, “She stays.”

  “She might as well, she heard it all,” Abigail said as she let Prescot help her to a chair. “You best sit down, Cathleen. You too, Leesil. There is hell to pay this day
.”

  “Mother, your language,” Gloria admonished.

  “Well, there is!” Abigail argued.

  When he saw Prescot coming toward him, Justin bragged, “I am family.” His father’s frown was all it took to send Justin out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Prescot closed the door.

  “She had a gun?” Blair asked.

  “She did,” Gloria answered. “She had it strapped to her leg, and proudly showed it to us before you arrived.”

  “Perhaps you might start at the beginning,” Cameron said.

  Blair took a very deep breath and tried to wipe her tears away with her hands. “Perhaps you should start at the beginning.”

  “Blair, you are being too harsh,” Cathleen said. “Do you not know how much we love you?”

  Blair used the handkerchief Lillie Mae handed her to wipe the last of her tears. “Why did no one tell me about her?”

  “You did not ask,” Cathleen tried.

  “Because I dinna think you knew,” a frustrated Blair said.

  “You are right,” said Cameron. “We should have told you.”

  Alistair opened the door and peeked in. “Everyone is outside. Shall we butlers go as well?”

  “Nay, come in,” said Hannish. He waited until the door was closed again, and then turned his attention to Blair. “The fault is mine.”

  “Because you married her and then sent her away?” Blair asked.

  Abigail finally took her hand off her chest, “You have your work cut out for you, the duchess filled her head with complete nonsense.”

  “I can see that,” said Hannish. “I sent her away because…”

  “Hannish sent her away,” Leesil interrupted, “because she hurt me.”

  Blair stared at Leesil. “She hurt you?”

  “And several of the other servants in Scotland while I was away,” Hannish said. Until now, he remained standing, but with a lot of explaining to do, he took a seat next to his wife and held her hand.

  “Uncle, does everyone know about her, save me?” Blair asked.

  “Sweetheart,” Cameron began, “the Scots know because they lived with her for three years in Scotland. When she came here, some…a few of the Americans learned about her then.”

  Blair stared at her father. “So she was right, you have always known who my mother was, even before you adopted me?”

  “Aye,” Cameron admitted. He tried to go to her, but Blair shook her head, so he sat in the chair opposite her. “Please let me explain.”

  Blair said, “Explain this - is it true Uncle had her put in a lunatic asylum?”

  Before his brother could answer, Hannish said, “Aye. ‘Twas six years ago. You were but seven and she threatened to take you.”

  “Would it have been so bad if she had? She is my mother.”

  “Blair, you dinna understand,” Cameron tried.

  “If I dinna understand, ‘tis because you dinna tell me,” Blair cried.

  The room fell silent. Everyone tried to let Blair calm down while they thought of the best way to explain. Hannish ran his fingers through his hair, and Cameron stared at the floor. Cathleen looked like she might cry at any moment, and Leesil had her eyes closed as if she was praying.

  Lillie Mae waited for a while before she said, “Blair’s mother was quite persuasive. I believed her.”

  “Indeed she was,” Abigail agreed. “If I did not know better, I might have been swayed myself.”

  “All I thought about was the gun under her skirt,” Gloria admitted.

  When the telephone rang, Prescot quickly picked it up. “Marblestone…Yes, Provost MacGreagor. I see, thank you.”

  “What is it?” Hannish asked.

  “He saw the…Blair’s mother get on the train to Denver.”

  “You mean the duchess?” Blair asked in a harsh tone. “Is that not what everyone calls her?”

  Cameron was starting to get annoyed. “What should we call her? She changes her name so no one can find her. She said her name was Olivia when she married Hannish.”

  “She was Alexandra Sinclair when she married Charles,” Abigail added.

  “I am not seven now, I am fourteen,” Blair muttered.

  “Fourteen?” Hannish asked as he exchanged looks with his brother.

  “The duchess said she was born in July,” Abigail added.

  Leesil counted on her fingers. “We were off by a year and four months.”

  “Aye, you were,” said Blair, her tone and her attitude still a little hostile.

  Gloria was getting annoyed with her too. “Blair, you did not know how old you were, because your mother dumped you on her brother’s doorstep and ran off.”

  “Her brother?” a confused Hannish asked.

  Abigail rolled her eyes. “Mr. Sinclair. She told Blair he was her brother and not one of her husbands. She claimed never to see the inside of a London Jail. Furthermore, she said she has only married twice and that your marriage to Leesil is…” she quickly bit her lip.

  “Illegitimate,” Hannish said for her.

  “At least we have that in common,” Blair blurted out. “I am illegitimate too.”

  That comment made more than one person in the room lower their eyes for a moment until Hannish asked, “Did she say who your true father is?”

  Abigail scoffed, “Some extremely wealthy Englishman, who is now dead. Blair stands to inherit, once the duchess can prove Blair is his daughter.”

  “Of course he is extremely wealthy,” Leesil couldn’t help but say. “And now we know why she wanted to take Blair with her. She has thought of a new swindle.”

  Her remark served to increase Blair’s anger. “Now she is a swindler? Will someone not tell me the truth?”

  “If you must place blame – place it on me,” said Hannish. “The fault is mine and mine alone.”

  “Not all of it,” Cameron corrected.

  “It is true, I did not divorce her before I married Leesil,” Hannish continued. “At the time I saw no need, for I was never truly married to your mother. It is an error I have regretted for years. Had I done so in the very beginning, it…”

  Leesil folded her arms and looked at Blair. “My husband has suffered enough at the hands of your mother, and I shall not have you castin’ blame on him for what she has done.”

  “My sister is right,” said Cathleen. “I do not care for your tone of voice either. We did what we thought was best for you, not against you.”

  Blair realized she was being too harsh and lowered her accusing eyes. “Please, just start at the beginning.”

  “Yes, do start at the beginning,” Gloria asked. “I am as confused as Blair.”

  “Very well.” Hannish finally sat down and then paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “I was young, too young when I became the next Duke of Glenartair. Uncle had just passed…”

  *

  Outside, it didn’t take long for the servants to gather and all of them wanted to know what was happening.

  “Blair’s mother came to see her,” Justin blurted out.

  “Justin, go play,” Brookton snapped.

  “Well, she did,” Justin argued.

  Brookton narrowed his eyes. “If you disobey me, I shall tell your father.”

  Justin pouted and slowly walked away. He looked back twice, and then went around the corner of the house to look for the dog.

  Cook Jessie had her hands on her hips. “She dare come here?”

  “That is what Miss Gloria and Miss Abigail said,” Brookton answered. “The duchess showed up at the Whitfields.”

  “I heard Miss Abigail say Blair’s mother had a gun,” Ethel added.

  Cook Halen puffed her cheeks. “She has gone mad this time. What else did you hear?”

  “That was all, except that Blair asked why no one told her about her mother.” Ethel answered. “After that, Mr. Hannish told us to go out here and wait.”

  “Poor Blair,” Cook Jessie sighed. “I feared this day would come. I have feared it for years.
”

  “So have I.” Cook Halen agreed.

  “Why?” asked Ethel.

  “Blair’s mother is a danger, especially to servants,” Cook Jessie answered.

  Brookton decided he better remind them of their oath. “We are not to breathe a word of this around town. If the MacGreagors want us to know what is happening, they shall have Alistair or Prescot tell us. Until then, we ask no questions and say nothing about it. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” they all said.

  “Fried apples,” cook Halen said.

  “Aye,” said cook Jessie. “Fried apples and sweet lettuce rolls are Blair’s favorite.”

  *

  Explaining years of family history to a young woman with little real knowledge of the world, was more difficult than Hannish expected. Everyone else remained quiet and just let him speak, but it was hard to know just how much Blair could absorb at one setting. There was one thing, however, that he wanted to make perfectly clear.

  “Tis for Leesil’s sake that I do not mention my marriage to your mother.”

  “Because you dinna divorce her?” Blair asked.

  “Aye,” Hannish answered. “Sometimes, ‘tis best for people outside the family not to know our business.”

  “Because they will gossip,” said Blair.

  “That’s right, darling,” Abigail confirmed. “They do not know about Charles’ unfortunate first marriage either, and I prefer to keep it that way.”

  Blair hushed her when Lillie Mae started to say something. “So my mother was married to Lord Bayington too?”

  Hannish nodded and then remembered something. “Alistair, there is a letter from Laura in the bottom drawer of my desk. Fetch it, will you?”

  “Aye.”

  While Alistair was gone, Hannish continued. “Olivia never said a word about you. We did not learn of your existence until much later.”

  “Lord Bayington has always wondered if you were his daughter,” Cameron added.

  “He is not,” said Blair. “Mother said my father has passed.”

  “If you can believe her,” Abigail said.