Marblestone Mansion 01 - Scandalous Duchess

a hand over his swelling eye. “He will regret this day, I swear he will.” He failed to notice the grins on the faces of Mr. Merth, Mr. Goodwin, and Margaret Ann.

    They were halfway home before either of them spoke. “Did you get what you wanted from the store?” Hannish asked after he had calmed down. “We can go back…”
    “ I managed to buy enough for now. Did you kill him?”
    “ Nay, he will live to accost someone else’s sister.”
    “ I am relieved. What do we tell Claymore and Abigail? He will surely complain to them this time.”
    “ He’ll not need to complain, the whole town will hear soon and someone will tell them. Do you suppose they do not know what sort their son is?”
    McKenna signed. “Most mothers think their sons can do no wrong. My mother did.”
    At last, he smiled. “True, but if we ever behaved that deplorably, she would have made certain we suffered for it.”
    “ Right after father punished you, you mean.” She smiled at the thought for a moment. “Perhaps the Whitfields are aware, and know not what to do about Charles.”
    “ Perhaps.”
    “ Have you broken your hand?”
    “ Not quite.” He looked at it, discovered his knuckles were red, and folded his arms. “I meant for you to meet Mr. Merth and Mr. Goodwin under happier circumstances. I know them well and have often been invited to dine in their homes. I intend to pay their kindness back once Olivia is settled.”
    McKenna raised a suspicious eyebrow. “And whom, might I ask, is Margaret Ann?”
    “ Ah, now that is another story. You need not worry about her, she hits harder than I do.”

    An upset Claymore did not come to protest his son’s black eye and Hannish had grown weary of expecting it, and of waiting for telegrams. The only letters that came were bills Olivia was running up in New York City. He was even more tired of trying not to think about his suspicions. After morning tea, he checked the soreness in his hand, left his desk, walked out of his study and shouted, “Alistair!” His shout loudly echoed through the sparsely furnished Mansion.
    “ What…what has happened?” a startled Alistair answered, hurrying around the corner into the parlor.
    Hannish put a comforting hand on his butler’s shoulder. “Forgive me, I dinna mean to alarm you. I wish to ride to Colorado City today. You have heard of the place, have you not?”
    “ I have.”
    “ Care to go with me?”
    Alistair’s eyes instantly lit up. “I do indeed.”
    “ Good, Prescot can manage.”
    “ Sir, he is a good lad that one, who treats me kindly. Might we take him with us? Keith can manage.”
    “ Of course we can. Find Prescot and change your clothes while I send for the horses.”

    It wasn’t long before McKenna spotted all three men through the upstairs sitting room window. She watched them mount their horses and could not keep from giggling. Alistair wore a short, round hat that looked too small for his head, knickerbockers with leggings from his ankles to his knees, and a loose fitting white shirt. Hannish and Prescot were a bit less casually attired, wearing ordinary long pants, shirts, and vests. Nevertheless, the three normally proud gentlemen looked quite out of place.

    CHAPTER 4

    Most of the residents of Marblestone Mansion gave up waiting for the master of the house and his butlers to come home, and went to bed. Keith sat in the parlor and tried not to close his eyes, but the hour got later and later until at last, he succumbed to the need for sleep. When the front door loudly slammed, a startled Keith jumped up and hurried into the foyer. “Sssh,” Keith tried, but he was greeted by two silly grins and the strong smell of whiskey.
    McKenna had not yet gone to bed, and still sat in the upstairs sitting room worried that her brother was enraged enough to seriously hurt someone. He did not always know his own strength and had nearly killed a man in Scotland, although the man deserved what he got. Still, this was America, not Scotland, where the word of a duke was never in question. When the door slammed, she was relived and headed for the stairs. A few seconds later, she too was looking at his silly grin and unfocused eyes.
    “ Hannish MacGreagor, you are drunk,” McKenna said, walking into the foyer. Been in a fight too, I see. Are you not a little old to be brawlin’?” With Keith trying to hold him up on one side, she slipped Hannish’s arm over her shoulders on the other, and tried to help steady his