Marblestone Mansion, Book 8

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Marblestone Mansion, Book 8 Page 18

by Marti Talbott


  “He died when I was quite young. What I remember, is seeing his face when he came home at night, and how delighted he was to be with his wife and sons.”

  “Did your mother love him dearly?”

  “She did and she mourned for a long time after he left us.”

  “What happened to him?” Gloria asked.

  “He was hit by a racing horse and carriage on his way home from work. It was late at night and the driver dinna see him.”

  When Ben offered his arm, she took it as they continued to walk. Neither of them said anything until Ben could no longer resist making the comparison, “Hannish said he married the duchess without thinking clearly, and deeply regrets his foolish decision.”

  Gloria looked away. “You think I am about to make the same mistake.”

  “I do. By the way, I intended to come see you tonight anyway. I have something for you.” Ben stopped and reached in his pocket. He pulled his hand back out, and then slowly opened it.

  “A yo-yo?”

  “Not a yo-yo – my yo-yo.”

  “But you said…”

  “I said, I shall give it to the woman I have truly given my heart to.”

  She stared into his eyes for a long moment. “You know I cannot accept this.”

  “Ah, but you can. I want you to have it.” He took her hand, and gave her the yo-yo.

  “Ben, you know very well I must honor my commitment to Mr. Harrington. We have discussed this.”

  “Yet, you do not love him, not the way you love me.”

  “I…do not love you.”

  Ben’s mouth curled into a smile. “Aye, you do. If you loved Mr. Harrington, you would have called him instead of me.”

  She tried to let go of his arm, but he covered her hand with his. “It means nothing,” she tried.

  “It means everything to me.”

  “I did not call him, because Mr. Harrington would not have understood.”

  “Nay, he would not have, for he did not bother to come with you. Apparently, he cares so little, he did not wish to meet the most important people in your life.”

  She let go of his arm and turned to face Ben. “He wishes to meet them later.”

  “At the wedding? He does not intend to do the gentlemanly thing, and come to ask Claymore for your hand?”

  Ben’s determined, piercing eyes forced Gloria to look away once more. “I…”

  “Say you love me, and I shall talk to your father right this moment.”

  “Are you asking me to break my vow and marry you instead?”

  “Do you not hold my yo-yo in your hand? Have you possibly mistaken my meaning?”

  “Ben, you are pressuring me.”

  “Aye. ‘Tis because I love you more than the moon and the stars…more even than the air I need to breathe. I have loved you these two years and I cannae bear to think of you in Harrington’s arms.”

  “I gave him my pledge.”

  “Yet, you know very well he does not love you. Has he called at all, even once?” By the way she refused to look at him, Ben could see that the answer was no. “‘Tis what I thought.”

  “I gave him…”

  “I know, your pledge. Gloria, do you think of him at night, or of me?”

  She deeply wrinkled her brow. “You cannot ask me that. It is not proper.”

  “Why? Because the answer will make you confess the truth? You are leaving in the morning and I must know. If you say you long for him, that your heart breaks when you are not with him, then I shall walk away and find another.”

  The thought of him with another caught Gloria off guard, and when he boldly took her in his arms, her heart skipped a beat, just as it had each time she danced with him at the ball. She kept her gaze down, for she knew he would have that look in his eyes. Desperately, she tried not to, but he made no other move, until she finally lifted her lips to his. Ben’s kiss was not like any other, for it stirred her very soul. His was a love she had dreamed about, and so ardently longed for all her life. She had to resist, she just had to – but she simply could not, and soon her passion matched his, taking away every other thought. Nothing else in the world mattered. At last, she forced herself to stop.

  Ben continued to hold her close and whispered in her ear, “Now say you do not love me.”

  It took all her courage, but Gloria stepped back, and looked at the house. “I have to go.”

  He knew he had won, though she still would not admit it. “Stay with me a little longer. This time, our special time, may never come our way again.”

  She knew he was right, but he was wearing her down and she feared giving in to him. “Promise we shall not talk of love, or death or…parting?”

  “I give you my word.” He held out his hand, was pleased when she took it and started them walking again. “Shall we listen to the silence?”

  She nodded, and when he stopped, so did she. Gloria tried to concentrate on the silence, but she had never wanted anything more in her life than to be back in his arms. “Some silence, the crickets are…”

  “Shhh,” he whispered. He gently pulled on her hand, until he drew her close. When she welcomed his embrace, he used his free hand to lay her head on his chest. “Do you not know, this is where you truly belong?”

  “You promised not to speak of love.”

  “Did I?” She did not move away and it made him smile. “How silly of me.” He kissed her forehead, waited, and as he hoped, she finally lifted her lips to his again. His kiss was as passionate as he dared make it, and when he stopped, he said, “Stay with the lad who truly loves you. I promise you shall not regret it.”

  “I want to, I do, but…oh Ben, I do love you, but I cannot break my father’s heart. It would hurt him forever, and I would never forgive either of us. What kind of marriage would we have, if I could not look my father in the eye?”

  She let him hold her for a while more, and when she slowly began to move away, he reached for her hand. Gloria paused, memorized the look of love in his eyes, pulled her hand from his, and went in the house. His yo-yo was still in her hand as she ran up the stairs, went to her room, and collapsed on her bed in a flood of tears.

  *

  At Marblestone, Blair spent the rest of the evening in her room, sitting on her bed talking to Lillie Mae. They discussed of all sorts of things, including Lillie Mae’s sisters, and what color Blair wanted her room. Not once did either of them bring up the duchess, until Lillie Mae said, “You must not let them go to bed unhappy.”

  “My parents?”

  “Yes. My mother always says, if you go to bed unhappy, you shall wake the next morning still unhappy, and two days shall be ruined instead of just one.”

  Blair puffed her cheeks. “I suppose they are not truly guilty, for all they did was try to protect me.”

  “I agree. Just as I was born to a father who drinks, your father was born to a brother who married wrongly.”

  “Lillie Mae, what do I do? I am happy to be fourteen, but how do I tell my friends without telling them about my mother. I do not wish to lie.”

  Lillie Mae considered that for a moment. “Leaving particulars out is not the same as lying. It is merely not telling all you know.”

  “Just as my father dinna tell me all he knew?”

  “Precisely. You can tell the good things about your mother and leave off the rest.”

  Blair giggled. “What good things?”

  “Well, she is very pretty and she was kind to you.”

  “And when my friends ask why I do not live with her?”

  Lillie May sighed and stood up. “I am certain you shall think of what to say. Now, go see your parents. They must be convinced you hate them.”

  Blair went to her bedroom door, paused briefly, opened it, and went to find Cameron. In their private sitting room, both Cameron and Cathleen had run out of things to say, and each sat quietly staring at nothing at all. The moment Blair came in, they both quickly stood up. Without a word, Blair went into her father’s arms.
>
  He was so relieved; he closed his eyes and held her tight.

  “Father,” said Blair.

  “Aye.”

  “Do you know…Lillie Mae sends all her pay to her mother so her sisters shall have enough to eat?”

  “Does she?” he asked.

  “All her pay, Father, all of it.”

  He leaned back and looked in her eyes. “What would you have me do to help her?”

  “I cannae think what to do. If you pay her more, she will send more, leaving nothing for herself still.” Blair reached out, took Cathleen’s hand and smiled at her. “Perhaps mother can advise you.”

  “Fret not, darling, we shall think of something,” said Cathleen. She leaned forward and kissed Blair on the cheek.

  Blair left Cameron’s arms and went to the door. “I cannae imagine what it is like being that hungry.”

  After she was gone, Cameron heaved a great sigh of relief. “Have we been forgiven?”

  For the first time in hours, Cathleen smiled. “Apparently so.”

  *

  After the duchess retrieved her things from the Denver hotel and caught the train to Chicago, she rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. Sleep did not come easily the night before. Every sound woke her, she could not get comfortable, and her mind continually went over and over the events of the day. She was exhausted and still faced two more days on a train.

  Originally, she intended to make Hannish pay to get Blair back, but all that changed when she discovered the book and learned Lord Okerman was dead. The duchess was convinced the book, if they let Blair read it, would tempt her daughter to come with her next time. After all, it detailed fabulous gowns, handsome men, and London balls that lasted into the wee hours of the morning. What fifteen or even sixteen-year-old could resist? All she had to do was wait. Meanwhile, she would marry enough money to sail back to England first class, live in the best hotel, collect Blair’s inheritance, and be welcomed back into the arms of her beloved society.

  It was a perfect plan.

  Naturally, there was no letter, nor any proof that Lord Okerman was Blair’s father. That was the beauty of it. The threat of a scandal would be more than enough to make the heirs to his estate pay. Perhaps she might even make Maude cough up a share of the book royalties. That thought made the duchess smile.

  Finally, everything was going her way.

  *

  At the Colorado Springs train station the next morning, Gloria put a good face on it for the sake of her parents, and tried to ignore the fact that Ben was watching her every move. She wanted to run to Ben and stay with him forever. Instead, she kissed her mother goodbye, promised to call when she reached New York City, and then stayed an extra moment in her father’s arms.

  Too soon, it was time to board, and when she sat down and waved goodbye to her parents, Ben came to the window. “I love you,” he mouthed. It made her heart ache for him that much more, so she bowed her head. Gloria knew she would cry, but she held back until the train pulled away from the station. At last, she let the tears stream down her cheeks. Close to sobbing, she opened her purse, found Mr. Harrington’s embarrassingly plain engagement ring, and put it on her finger.

  With a heavy heart, Ben stood on the station platform and watched until the train was out of sight. He smiled, even though he felt like hitting a wall with his fist, nodded to both Mr. and Mrs. Whitfield, went to his horse and rode to the Whitfield and MacGreagor warehouse. If there was a cure for a broken heart, he hoped work was it – long hours of very hard work.

  After Ben was gone, Abigail wiped her tears and put her kerchief away. She hugged Claymore, watched him walk down the street toward his office, and then spotted Provost MacGreagor. “Well, has she come back yet?”

  Provost MacGreagor slowly stood up and respectfully removed his hat. “Who might ye be speaking of this time, Mrs. Whitfield?”

  “You know very well who. That redhead the devil sent to plague Blair. The one you failed to notice the last time she got off the train.”

  “You cannae blame me for everything, you know.”

  “I can, and I usually do.” In a huff, Abigail stormed away. She let the waiting driver help her into Claymore’s automobile, and settled down in the seat. As soon as the driver started the engine, the blasted thing backfired. Abigail jumped sky high, and placed her hand over her palpitating heart.

  “I hate this contraption!” she was heard shouting as the driver pulled away.

  Provost MacGreagor slapped his hat against his leg and roared with laughter.

  *

  Ben thought about going after Gloria, he thought about it as he nailed siding to the outside of a house, as the sun began to set, and as he went home and ate dinner. He was still thinking about it, as he climbed into his empty bed. What could he say to her that he had not already said? Perhaps it was best to give Gloria time to miss him as much as he already missed her. He decided therefore to wait, at least until she set a date for her wedding. Then he would go after her.

  *

  Ben didn’t wait for Gloria to call her mother and let her know she arrived safely. Instead, he impatiently delayed the four days he knew it took to get to New York City, called her boarding house that evening, and asked to speak to her. She was not home, so he left a message asking her to call back. A day later, he heard that Gloria called her mother as soon as she arrived, just as she promised. He waited all day and night, but she did not call him. Another day passed and another. It was all he could do to keep from throwing some clothes in a bag and buying a train ticket, but he forced himself to give her one more week.

  If she didn’t call, then he had to go after her, he just had to. Life without her was sheer torture.

  *

  After she arrived back in Chicago, the duchess was tired, but never too tired to go shopping. She ordered six new dresses, two with wide collars, and two with high, lace necklines that sported ribbon chokers and dangling pendants. The last two were lovely red and blue evening gowns – perfect now that her hair was more brown than red. She purchased long gloves, one white pair and one black pair, new shoes and long stockings that finally kept her cold feet warm.

  The seamstress needed another week to finish the gowns, but two of the day dresses were to be done in three days. The duchess promised to be back, at which time she intended to order her wedding gown. Once more, she scoured the bookshops for any sign of her book and found nothing. That afternoon, she picked up the telephone in her hotel room, and asked to be connected to Mr. Douglas Roth.

  CHAPTER 12

  In the warehouse, Hannish hung up the telephone and walked out of his office. “Ben?” he shouted.

  “Aye,” Ben answered, as he peeked around a row of shelves.

  “You are needed at the train station.”

  “For what?”

  “Mr. Merth dinna say. He asks that you come right away.”

  Ben nodded, walked out the door, untied his horse and rode toward town. It was well past the arrival of the last train when he reached the station, the platform was empty, and the Provost was not sitting in his usual chair. He dismounted, tied his horse to a post, opened the door and went inside.

  The station manager looked ashen. “In there,” Mr. Merth said, pointing to the slightly ajar door to the back room.

  Ben gently pushed the door to the cluttered, windowless storage room all the way open. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark, and when they did, a woman stood in the corner with her back to him. “Gloria?”

  “Do not come near me, Ben.”

  “Why?”

  “Mr. Harrington did not take my rejection well.”

  Ben took a step forward. “Has he hurt you?” The shadowy figure reluctantly nodded.

  Behind him, Mr. Merth whispered, “She needs a doctor.”

  Ben braced himself and took another step toward Gloria. “Let me see.” He gently touched her shoulder and waited for her to turn around. When she did, it was all he could d
o not to let her see his horror. Her nose was swollen and cut, bruises circled both her eyes, and one eye was nearly swollen shut. She wore no hat, her hair was in disarray, and dried bloodstains ran all the way down the front of her dress. “I shall kill him for this.”

  Her cut lip was still swollen and it helped to hold it with her fingertips when she talked. “No, that is what my father will do if he sees me. You must hide me, Ben, until I am healed.”

  “Very well…then I shall kill him.”

  “But first, get her to the doctor,” Mr. Merth insisted.

  She raised her hand. “No, Doc Parker is friends with my father.”

  “He’ll not tell, if you ask him not to,” said Mr. Merth.

  “I can take you to my mother’s house,” Ben suggested.

  Gloria shook her head. “She will tell my mother. You know how they are.”

  Ben was confused. “Why not let me take you home where your mother can care for you?”

  “I am frightened he will come after me. He said if I do not marry him, he will see me in my grave.”

  “Not while I am alive,” Ben vowed. “Where are your things?”

  “I was so frightened; I got on the train directly. I left everything behind.”

  “Do not fret, we shall send for them,” Ben started to put an arm around her, but he was afraid of hurting her. “If you will not let me take you home, let me take you to Marblestone. Hannish can keep your father from doing anything foolish.”

  Gloria considered that and then nodded. “Say nothing on the telephone. Mother might be listening.”

  “As you wish,” Ben said.

  Mr. Merth put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I shall walk over to his office and have the doctor meet you there.”

  “Thank you,” said Ben. “Gloria, wait here while I rent a buggy.”

  “I am so very tired. Can we not ride your horse?”

  “Can we? I mean will it hurt you?” Ben asked.

  She wiped a tear off her swollen cheek. “I do not care. I want to feel safe again.”

 

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