“I have come to confess.”
“Oh dear,” said she, “’tis it very serious?”
“I am afraid so and I shall not blame you if you give me a sound tongue lashing. Tell me, is there a place where we might talk in private?”
Blair looked toward the manor’s sitting room, where Cook Jessie stood in the window watching them. Instead of choosing to go inside, Blair motioned for him to follow her around to the back of the house, and then to an outdoor table and chairs. She laid the roses and the scissors on the table, and then let him hold her chair while she sat. As he went to the other side of the table to seat himself, she removed her gloves and brushed loose strands of hair off her face. The slight breeze didn’t help, for the strands went right back where they were. “I fear I was not expecting to entertain, I...”
“Your father hired me to keep you safe on the ship,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“Did you not think it odd that you and the Whitfields had a particular steward while none of the others did?”
“Well, yes at first, but I dinna suspect you. I mean, you...”
“I what?”
He did not look at all like that lanky young man who could not have been more than seventeen. Instead, he appeared to be much older, and far more attractive. He was even steady on his feet and the transformation was a bit overwhelming. “Well, you seemed so at ease in your profession, I had no reason to doubt you.” Blair caught her breath. “Did the Whitfields know?”
David chuckled. “Your father advised me not to tell them. He said Mrs. Whitfield has difficulty keeping a secret.”
Blair returned his grin, “As evidenced by her tellin’ Robin’s mother about my mother being in a lunatic asylum?”
“Precisely.”
She was still amazed and stared at his face for a long moment. “I thought you...how old are you?”
Her question slightly embarrassed him, but he quickly recovered. “I am nearly twenty-six. I have what some call a ‘baby face’ which comes in handy from time to time.”
“And watchin’ me was one of those times.”
“You misunderstand. I was not there to watch you; I was there to protect you.”
“I see. How do you know my father?”
“We have not yet met. I have only spoken to him over the telephone.”
“Then how...”
“You might have heard of us. I am a Pinkerton Agent.”
Her mouth dropped. “A Pinkerton Agent? I never would have guessed that. Did you not find this assignment rather dull after chasin’ train robbers and murders?”
“I thought it quite wonderful, if you must know. My father owned a restaurant in New York City, where I worked until I went off to college.”
“No wonder you looked right at home in the position of ship’s steward.”
“Indeed, although I must confess I found it quite difficult not to interfere in your affairs aboard ship. Had you agreed to marry one of those two scoundrels, I would gladly have interfered.”
Blair’s eyes twinkled, “While I was savin’ Robin, you were standin’ by to save me?”
“I was. Fortunately, you are not that easily fooled. I thought it quite clever the way you broke up her disastrous engagement. How is Miss Robinson these days?”
“Deliriously happy. She has forgiven me and is soon to be married.”
His expression turned a bit more serious. “Which is why I am here.”
Blair slowly grinned. “My father has hired you once more?”
“You are in need of a trustworthy escort, are you not?”
“I believe I am.” She picked up one of the roses, brought it to her nose, and closed her eyes while she appreciated the sweet aroma. She dreaded having to dance with different partners at Robin’s ball and David would certainly come in handy in that regard. She set the rose back on the table. “Have you sailed all the way from America just to escort me to Robin’s weddin’?”
“No, I have been at a university learning new investigation techniques.”
“All this time?”
“All this time, and I am happy to say I have completed my studies. I was due to sail home when your father reached me.”
“Let me guess. We just happen to have tickets on the same ship bound for America?”
“You have guessed correctly.” He paused before he said, “I confess his offer is most generous. It is more than I make in an entire year.”
Blair giggled. “I can believe that. He spares no expense where I am concerned.” Her guest quickly stood up and when he did, she turned just in time to see Butler Alistair come around the corner of the house.
“This is our Butler,” she quickly said. “Alistair, may I introduce David... Forgive me, for I know not your last name.”
“Steele,” David said as he nodded to Alistair.
“Father hired him to see to my safety while I attend Robin’s weddin’.”
“I am happy to hear it,” said the butler. “Will you not come inside, Mr. Steele? Perhaps a spot of tea.”
“I am much obliged.” David offered his hand to Blair, waited for her to collect her things off the table and then helped her stand up.
“Will you not stay for supper?” Blair asked.
“Thank you, I could use a good meal,” David answered. “Allow me to send my driver away.”
Still amazed by David’s sudden appearance as well as his revelations, Blair walked to the front with Alistair, and then watched as David spoke to his driver. “Robin shall be thrilled to see him again. I am tempted to call her, but I think a surprise is in order.”
“He is the same David Mr. Whitfield spoke of?” asked Alistair.
“Aye and he is much improved since last I saw him.”
CHARLES LOVED THREE things most in the world – his wife, Serena, playing poker of a Saturday night, and building homes for people to live in. What he hated most was anything that interfered with his work schedule.
The castle was taking longer than he estimated. It took extra time finding rocks that matched the old ones used in the exterior walls. The electricians were a month late, and the plumbers he hired did not show up, forcing him to contract with a different company altogether.
Even McKenna’s indecisiveness caused a delay.
All the MacGreagors were related in one way or the other, but Charles had a particular soft spot when it came to McKenna. The two of them grew up together, shared a fishing hole behind the castle and knew all there was to know about each other. McKenna was not born in the castle and had never seen the place until after her parents were killed. Even now, Charles remembered the look on the face of that lost little girl the first time he came to the castle to play with her. She needed a friend and he was determined to fill that need.
When she sailed to America to join her brother, Charles greatly missed her. Eleven years later, she was back to oversee the rebuilding of the castle. He secretly hoped someday McKenna’s brothers would leave Colorado and come home too, but their construction company was prospering and that was not likely.
After the lost MacGreagor stories were found in a hidden tunnel under the Great Hall, McKenna couldn’t decide if they should put in another trap door or not. It was unlikely the escape tunnel would ever be needed again, everyone agreed, but McKenna was not so sure, now that war with Germany was looming. It took her all of four days to decide to put in another trap door. Charles understood. A pregnant woman often had trouble making up her mind. Hopefully the discovery of a skeleton, even an ancient one, could more quickly be resolved.
When Charles arrived at Kentigern Manor, he left the dogs in the Benz, and walked up to the front door and removed his train engineer’s cap before he knocked.
BLAIR HAD JUST FINISHED introducing David to McKenna when Butler Alistair announced Charles’ arrival. David stood up, and when Blair introduced him and mentioned he was a Pinkerton Agent, Charles was hesitant to shake his hand. The last thing he needed was to tell what he found to a Pin
kerton Agent. He politely shook his hand anyway, and then turned his attention to McKenna.
“Charles,” McKenna said. “We were not expectin’ you. Please sit. Is anythin’ amiss?” She wore an ordinary lavender frock with an empire waist that had plenty of full pleating in the front to cover her extended stomach. The furniture in the sitting room was rented as well, but the full length sofa and matching chairs placed appropriately near a hearth were comfortable enough. Even the paintings on the wall were rented, and the one above the sofa depicted her favorite purple lilacs and white roses.
Not certain his clothes were clean enough, Charles waited for David to sit and then sat on the edge of one of the chairs opposite McKenna. “Not amiss, precisely, but I do have news.”
She sensed it was not good news and waited but Charles seemed reluctant to say anything, even after Alistair left and closed the door behind him. “Go on, what is it?”
“The thing is, if word of this gets out, we shall have...” Charles intentionally looked at David.
“I assure you,” said David, “I know no one in Scotland to tell.”
Charles nodded and then continued, “We were about to finish off the kitchen floor when...” He remembered her delicate condition and paused to find the most pleasant way of telling her. “Well, we found bones buried in the dirt.”
“What sort of bones?”
“Human, I am sad to say.” He watched as David and Blair exchanged surprised glances.
McKenna stared at Charles as she tried to fully grasp what he was saying. “Do you mean someone was buried under the kitchen?” When he nodded, she struggled to stand up, and when Charles came to help, she gladly took hold of his hand. “I lived there...for years...and now you tell me someone was buried under...”
“Aye, the kitchen. Miss McKenna, I beg you, do not faint,” said Charles.
She took a deep breath and let him help her sit back down. “I have never fainted in my life, and I assure you I shall not faint now. I am just astonished, is all.”
“As are we,” Charles said.
“What are we to do?” McKenna asked.
“’Tis what I came to ask you.”
“Yes, of course, ‘twould be my decision.” She finally looked up at him. “Will you not sit down, Charles?”
This time, he sat on the sofa next to her just in case she fainted after all. “Aye.” He continued to watch as she shifted her eyes from side to side.
“Shall we not call the authorities?” she asked at length.
“I would recommend it, if ‘twas not buried long ago.”
“How can you tell ‘twas buried long ago?” Blair asked.
“The clothin’ are rotted away...Miss McKenna, where might Nicholas be?”
“He went to take the Whitfields to board their ship in London, but he called from the train station and said he would be home directly.”
“Good,” said Charles. “No matter what you decide, I fear it means a delay. Perhaps he shall know what to do.” McKenna had that faraway look, so he hesitantly stood up. ‘Tis time I go home for supper. Shall I send for Alistair?”
“Aye,” McKenna answered. “Tell him I wish to call America right away.”
Charles was a little alarmed by that. “I hoped to keep the discovery a secret. Suppose someone listens in? I hear the Americans are quite bold in that regard.”
McKenna shared a knowing smile with Blair. “Aye, they are and Miss Abigail is the worst of the lot. Fortunately, she is aboard a ship and cannae listen in this time.”
“Very well. One more thing,” Charles said, “’twas the dogs that dug it up. I brought them with me so they cannae disturb the site further, but I dare not take them home. They make my wife sneeze.”
Blair found the thought delightful. “Do leave them with us. I love dogs and the boys shall adore playin’ with them.”
“Aye,” said Charles, “but the dogs protect the castle and now...”
“Can we not hire men to tend it as we did before?” McKenna asked.
“Not if we dinna want anyone to know about the bones.”
McKenna paused to consider that. “Well then, we are forced to take our chances. Nicholas shall know what to do. Indeed, Nicholas shall know.”
When her words drifted off, Charles felt sorry for McKenna. There was little he could do, so he nodded to both Blair and David, and then went to find Alistair.
JUST AS THE WORKERS at the castle predicted, McKenna told Alistair, then she told Sarah, and of course she had to tell Cook Jessie. A short time later, she informed both her brothers in America, but she swore all them to secrecy and in return was assured none of them would breathe a word.
CHAPTER 2
As soon as Judge Nicholas Mitchel returned home, he greeted Blair, was introduced to David, kissed McKenna on the lips, and then sat down beside her. “Are you well, my love?”
“I am, now that you are here. You know not how happy I am to see you,” McKenna practically whimpered as she snuggled as close to him as possible in her condition. “Charles was just here.”
“I know,” said Nicholas. “He motioned me over on the road just now. Did he tell you about the dagger?”
“Nay, what dagger?” McKenna asked.
“It looked to him like the man...or the woman, was murdered with a dagger.”
McKenna rolled her eyes. “He guesses ‘twas a murder? Oh splendid. If word of this gets out, we shall have a scandal on our hands.” She struggled to sit up straight, reached for her cup, took a sip of tea, and set the cup back in the saucer. “Did Charles say if he thought ‘twas a lad or a lass?”
“He could not tell,” Nicholas answered.
She leaned against him again. “The printer delivered the copies of the story this mornin’. Alistair, Sarah, and Jessie spent most of the day readin’ it. Now I am not so certain we should let the rest of the clan see it and they agree. Suppose a reporter gets ahold of the story?”
“My love,” Nicholas tried to sooth. “How can it reflect badly on us? It happened years ago.”
McKenna continued to ignore Blair and David as she and her husband talked. “Aye, and the story was written years ago.”
“True, but there is no way of knowing the bones pertain to any particular story.”
She gave her husband a look of disbelief. “You know very well people shall think it does.”
“There is no proof.”
“And there is no proof that the bones dinna belong to this very story. In fact, I am quite certain they do,” McKenna shot back. “A murder in the MacGreagor glen, with the bones bein’ discovered under Glenartair Castle, is the sort of scandal that would follow us and our children for years. And particularly if it becomes part of Scotland’s history, as it may well be if ‘tis published in the newspapers.”
“Then you are right, we should not let the clan see it,” Nicholas conceded.
“Agreed,” said McKenna. “It is settled then. So long as they do not learn of the bones, the clan shall never know what truly happened, and we shall be far happier for it.”
Blair set her cup of tea on a nearby table and deeply wrinkled her brow. “Which story? Have I not read them all?”
McKenna closed her eyes for a moment. “Forgive me, I dinna realize you know not of what we speak. One of the stories was written in Gaelic and it has taken months to translate it.”
“But you shall let me read it,” Blair insisted.
“I shall give you a copy to take to my brothers, and of course you may read it, although I warn you – ‘tis not a pleasant story.” She leaned her head against Nicholas once more. “How very dreadful for the body to be discovered. I would have been far happier not ever knowin’ where it was.”
“I confess I am intrigued,” said David. “Perhaps I might help?”
Blair suddenly realized she had not informed the judge of David’s profession. “Mr. Steele is an American Pinkerton Agent.”
“Indeed?” The judge was immediately interested. “Perhaps you might be
of assistance after all.”
“Father hired him to protect me on the ship comin’ over and he is to escort me to Robin’s weddin’ and then home again.”
“He is that David?” the judge asked. “The steward Claymore spoke so highly of?”
“Aye,” said Blair, “although he dinna know David was an agent. I only found out this mornin’.” She grinned. “Will the Whitfields not be surprised when I tell them?”
“Indeed they shall,” the judge answered.
“I hoped to see Glenartair Castle while I am here,” said David. “The duke spoke of it often in our telephone conversations.”
“That can be easily arranged,” said the Judge, “I am off to see the remains myself in the mornin’. If you need a place to stay, we...”
“I have taken a room at the Glenartair village inn for the next two nights. As I understand it, we are to take the train to London day after tomorrow and upon our arrival, Mr. MacGreagor has made sufficient arrangements for me at a hotel in London.”
Blair scoffed, “Sufficient lavish arrangements would be my guess.”
“Naturally,” said Nicholas. “Little escapes Cameron’s attention and I suspect you are to look quite wealthy while you escort his daughter.”
A little embarrassed, Blair slightly frowned. “He is to protect me, not pursue me.”
“Well,” McKenna said, “he must pretend some measure of interest or they shall think him a buffoon.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught David’s smile.
Nicholas couldn’t help but chuckle. “From what I have heard of London Society, I would not mind going just to watch you tell them he is a Pinkerton Agent.”
“He is right,” McKenna agreed. “You’ll have not one whit of trouble out of them once they know that.”
“Good, then I am more protected than I thought,” said Blair. “Perhaps I do not dread going to the weddin’ after all.”
Beloved Secrets, Book 3 Page 2
