Read Online Marblestone Mansion 01 - Scandalous Duchess by Marti Talbott - Free Book Online
Authors: Marti Talbott
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“It matters not.”
Hannish was not happy with that answer and turned a questioning eye on the two men. “Charles Whitfield accosted her,” Mr. Merth answered.
Hannish narrowed his eyes. “Accosted her how?”
Mr. Goodwin looked as angry as McKenna. “He blocked her way and would not let her leave the store.”
“ Did he touch her?” Hannish asked.
Mr. Merth nodded, “He had ahold of her arm.”
“ Brother, I am quite all right. Let it pass,” McKenna pleaded.
Hannish ignored her. “Where is he?”
Mr. Goodwin answered, “Where he always is; in the hotel lounge with his friends, pestering Margaret Ann.”
“ Wait here, McKenna,” said Hannish. “Shepard, stay with her.”
“ Yes, Mr. MacGreagor.” Shepard tied the reins and climbed down to stand by the door of the carriage.
“ Where are you going?” McKenna asked, leaning her head out of the carriage window. It was too late. All she could do was watch her brother walk down the middle of Main Street, climb the steps, and disappear under the archway entrance of the Antlers Hotel. Not wanting to miss watching Charles get what he deserved, Mr. Goodwin and Mr. Merth hurried after him.
Charles Whitfield never saw it coming. A doubled up fist hit him square in the eye and sent him flying across the room. Men sitting at a table managed to get out of the way just in time, before his hurled body knocked over the table, two chairs, and a bottle of whiskey.
Hannish MacGreagor’s glare was fierce when he pulled Charles to his feet, and the look in his eyes left no doubt that he was willing to make good on his next threat, “You come near my sister again and I will shoot you!” This time he gave into his urge, shoved hard and tossed Charles backwards over a second table. On his way out, he nodded to the bartender, “Send the bill to me.”
“ Yes, Mr. MacGreagor.”
With that, Hannish stomped out of the hotel.
Behind him, a thoroughly embarrassed Charles sat up and put 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,
Hannish was not happy with that answer and turned a questioning eye on the two men. “Charles Whitfield accosted her,” Mr. Merth answered.
Hannish narrowed his eyes. “Accosted her how?”
Mr. Goodwin looked as angry as McKenna. “He blocked her way and would not let her leave the store.”
“ Did he touch her?” Hannish asked.
Mr. Merth nodded, “He had ahold of her arm.”
“ Brother, I am quite all right. Let it pass,” McKenna pleaded.
Hannish ignored her. “Where is he?”
Mr. Goodwin answered, “Where he always is; in the hotel lounge with his friends, pestering Margaret Ann.”
“ Wait here, McKenna,” said Hannish. “Shepard, stay with her.”
“ Yes, Mr. MacGreagor.” Shepard tied the reins and climbed down to stand by the door of the carriage.
“ Where are you going?” McKenna asked, leaning her head out of the carriage window. It was too late. All she could do was watch her brother walk down the middle of Main Street, climb the steps, and disappear under the archway entrance of the Antlers Hotel. Not wanting to miss watching Charles get what he deserved, Mr. Goodwin and Mr. Merth hurried after him.
Charles Whitfield never saw it coming. A doubled up fist hit him square in the eye and sent him flying across the room. Men sitting at a table managed to get out of the way just in time, before his hurled body knocked over the table, two chairs, and a bottle of whiskey.
Hannish MacGreagor’s glare was fierce when he pulled Charles to his feet, and the look in his eyes left no doubt that he was willing to make good on his next threat, “You come near my sister again and I will shoot you!” This time he gave into his urge, shoved hard and tossed Charles backwards over a second table. On his way out, he nodded to the bartender, “Send the bill to me.”
“ Yes, Mr. MacGreagor.”
With that, Hannish stomped out of the hotel.
Behind him, a thoroughly embarrassed Charles sat up and put 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,
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