Marblestone Mansion 01 - Scandalous Duchess

said. “I have known the MacGreagors since the children were small. Their father was a stern, but loving man who kept them well rounded up. He dinna abide nonsense, and neither will his son. Mark my words, Olivia MacGreagor is more nonsense than her husband will abide.”
    Charlotte looked positively joyful to hear it, did not notice Sarah watching her, and would not have cared if she did. Charlotte’s hopes were high, very high indeed.

    CHAPTER 3

    Just as Sarah said, there were housemaid uniforms aplenty on hand but they needed alterations. The next day, in an empty room not far from the kitchen, Charlotte put the Singer Vibrating Shuttle Sewing Machine to good use and became the Mansion’s in-house seamstress. While she loved to sew, especially on such a nice new machine, she had a few complaints.
    “ I am so tired of sewing the same color cloth all day long. I cannot quite decide if the cloth is blue or gray,” she whined when Sarah walked into the room.
    “ Perhaps this will help.’ She showed Charlotte where the seam of her white apron was coming apart. “Can you fix it?”
    “ With pleasure, it will only take a minute.”
    Sarah walked to the window and looked out at the tilled ground where Hannish hoped to plant a rose garden. Alistair was outside looking at it too, and when he spotted her, she nodded. For a butler, Alistair was a friendly sort, a little prim and proper perhaps, but not all starch and vinegar the way some butlers were. It was plain to see he had taken Sassy under his wing, and for that alone, she admired him.
    “ Oh, darn it, I broke the thread. That is the third time today.”
    Sarah glanced back. “You seem a bit annoyed, is something the matter?”
    “ I could not get Sassy to stand still long enough to pin her hem straight. It took nearly an hour.”
    “ She is excited, it is…”
    “ Let her be excited somewhere else.”
    Sarah stared at Charlotte for a moment, and then turned back to watch Alistair through the window.
    Charlotte finally got the needle threaded and began to sew the apron seam. She dreamed of making a gown of her own someday, attending a grand ball at the Antler Hotel, and having Hannish ask her to dance. She was perhaps not the prettiest of women, she knew, with thin hair that was more brown than black, but one look in her eyes when they danced would let him know how much she adored him. It was just a dream, but sometimes dreams do come true.
    When Hannish walked past the open door, she stopped to smile at him. Unfortunately, he did not notice her so she went back to her sewing. “I dread having to fit Sassy for another frock tomorrow.”
    “ Then I will come with her. She will stand still for me,” said Sarah.
    “ I doubt it.”

    They were ill prepared to entertain guests, but when a carriage started up the drive toward the Mansion in the late afternoon, everyone hurried to get ready. Keith rushed out to open the carriage door as soon as it stopped, while Alistair stood ready at the front door. McKenna checked her hair in the only full-length mirror located in Olivia’s room and straightened her skirt, “How good of someone to come just at dinnertime,” she muttered. “Sassy, tell cook to prepare. My brother will surely invite them to stay.”
    In the study, Prescot grabbed a topcoat off the back of a chair and helped Hannish put it on. Then he followed him into the parlor just as McKenna came down the stairs. At last, they were ready and the MacGreagors stepped outside to welcome their guests.
    Abigail and Claymore Whitfield were the picture of Colorado’s well-dressed wealth. A slender woman, Abigail wore a well fitting green dress, with delicate pink rosebuds on the collar, at the waist and at the bottom of the skirt. The color flattered her red hair and matched her green eyes. Her somewhat robust husband looked uncomfortable in his tall still-collar and his waistcoat was a bit too tight, but his lace up black shoes had a good shine to them, and his short, graying hair was neatly combed. Their grown son was as tall as his father, wore his reddish blond hair short to the nape of his collar and had a bit of a crooked smile.
    “ McKenna, allow me to introduce our nearest neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Whitfield. McKenna is my sister,” said Hannish.
    Claymore tipped his hat, “A pleasure.” Then he turned back to Hannish. “I do not believe you have met my son, Charles.”
    Hannish smiled. “I have not. Welcome, Charles.”
    Charles nodded to