The Fairbairn Girls (28 page)

Here Lady Rothbury, Alice, Flora and Catriona would live, looked after by the faithful McEwan, one footman, the housekeeper, the cook and a scullery maid, two chambermaids, a parlour maid and a lady’s maid.

‘The total of their salaries will cost two hundred and seventeen pounds a year, plus their board and keep,’ Robert told them now as they sat in the depleted library to discuss Lady Rothbury’s future expenses. ‘She can also afford a coachman; they only get eighteen pounds a year, but she’ll have to hire odd job men to do the garden,’ he continued. ‘Gardeners these days want a cottage to live in for them and their children, as well as a good salary,’ he added in a scandalized voice.

‘How absurd,’ Humphrey exclaimed. ‘Why can’t they live in their own houses like the rest of us?’

Shane was frowning anxiously. ‘Do you think the old dear is going to be all right?’ he asked.

Their faces registered mild hostility. The countess may have fallen upon hard times in the twilight of her life, but she could not be referred to as ‘the old dear’.

‘Lady Rothbury will be fine,’ Robert assured Shane evenly.

‘I don’t mind putting my hand in my pocket if she needs anything,’ Shane insisted.

Walter turned and smiled at Shane. ‘That’s really kind and generous of you, old chap,’ he said warmly. ‘I think we should all watch the situation closely without worrying her. She might be offended if she thought she was a charity case, don’t you think?’

Shane slapped his thigh in hearty agreement. ‘She’s proud, like my ma. Obviously we wouldn’t slip her a few pounds across the table if she was needy, like.’

Humphrey rolled his eyes and Robert looked at Humphrey sternly. He was aware Georgie was blissfully happy with Shane and as a result was nice to everyone these days; for that alone they should be thankful and remain civil to him.

Robert spoke firmly. ‘The really important thing is that our mother-in-law should be surrounded by staff who are well known to her. In reality, apart from the fact she’ll be occupying much smaller rooms, nothing else will change for her. She’ll have the same lady’s maid, Cook will still prepare her favourite dishes and McEwan – God bless him! – will still be at her beck and call. That’s the most any of us can hope for when we get old.’

There was a sober silence as the others took in his words.

Then Shane slapped his thigh again. ‘We’re not old yet so let’s have a stiff noggin to cheer ourselves up, shall we?’

‘So speaks the landlord of The King’s Head!’ exclaimed Humphrey, giving Shane a forgiving smile and a friendly thump on the shoulder.

The sisters had congregated in the big day nursery on the top floor to help the various nannies give the children tea, but they’d soon drifted into corners to enjoy the pleasure of chattering to each other once again.

‘Have you stopped dressmaking altogether, Laura?’ Lizzie asked as they sat side by side on the familiar old ottoman.

‘Yes. I sold my business to Helen, whose husband had a little money squirreled away. I just make my own clothes now, and of course Caroline’s layette,’ Laura replied, glancing down fondly at the sleeping baby in her arms.

‘She must be the best-dressed baby in Lasswade! I often wish I wasn’t dependent on Humphrey for every penny.’

Laura gave a roguish smile. ‘Oh, but I’ve spent all of mine.’ She dropped her voice. ‘I’ve redecorated the house. Priscilla had the most appalling taste. The fabrics she chose were dreadful and as for the wallpaper . . .! Walter didn’t mind at all. He understood I needed to put my own stamp on the place.’

Lizzie also dropped her voice. ‘And you’re really happy? Walter is quite rich, isn’t he?’ She’d never liked him and couldn’t hide her critical tone when she was talking about him. ‘Was it his father who left him a fortune?’

Laura nodded. ‘I believe so. One never discusses these things, does one? We can certainly afford to live very stylishly.’

‘Hmm,’ Lizzie retorted.

Beattie came over and joined them, sitting in a nearby chair and plonking little Henry on the floor between them. ‘What are you two old witches whispering about?’ she teased.

‘Our lovers, of course. What else?’ Laura countered swiftly with a straight face. Diana and Georgie standing nearby burst out laughing when they heard her.

‘Of
course
!’ Georgie echoed cheekily. ‘Trouble is Shane won’t let me work behind the bar so I don’t get much of a chance.’

For a moment the five women were like young girls again, convulsed with laughter at each other’s remarks and overcome with giggles.

Nanny Fairbairn looked up from the central tea table where the small ones were strapped into high chairs as they stuffed jam sandwiches into their mouths while the older ones sat in shy silence nibbling Dundee cake.

Nanny had known the Fairbairn girls since they’d been little and as she listened to Lizzie, Laura, Diana and Beattie and the much-improved Georgie, she knew this room in the castle would never again ring with such joyful merriment.

The last few precious days before the ball passed all too swiftly, and although everyone was putting on a good face and being resolutely cheerful, a creeping dark dread was invading Lochlee, in spite of the dozens of workers who were preparing the raised platform for the musicians, the long tables for the buffet supper and the bar which would serve a range of drinks all evening. This had been organized by Shane, who proudly pointed out how much they were saving by buying the liquor through him at wholesale prices.

‘He’s a useful chap to know,’ Humphrey had pointed out
sotto voce.

Lady Rothbury came down from her private quarters from time to time to see what was going on, but it pained her to see gaps where there had once been furniture, and she grieved at the impending loss of every stick and stone of the place. She’d come here as a bride and she was leaving it as a widow who had also lost two sons.

As the time to go drew nearer her misery increased so much that she wished it was all over and done with. She longed to just go straight downstairs and out through the front door on to the drive where she could keep on walking without looking back. Having a ball was a big mistake and she should never have let the family persuade her otherwise. It was prolonging the agony instead of pretending it wasn’t happening, and it was rubbing salt into the grievous wound.

Pressing her fingertips to her mouth to suppress the sobs that were rising in her chest, she prayed to God to give her the strength to control her emotions during the next twenty-four hours. How often had she told her daughters that ladies don’t cry because it embarrasses the servants?

Had anyone ever seen a member of the royal family cry? she asked herself fiercely. Of course they hadn’t! Ladies didn’t cry. She’d wear her new ball gown and she’d hold her head high and she’d expect her daughters to do the same. No matter how hard it was.

Flaming torches lined the long drive and lanterns were lit in every window so Lochlee resembled a castle in a fairy-tale book as the guests were driven up to the entrance in their carriages.

Inside the great hall Lady Rothbury, magnificently dressed in silver-grey satin, greeted the guests with the help of her eight daughters and their husbands. Instead of a formal line-up she decided they should group themselves informally and that each guest would be immediately offered a drink by a waiting footman. From the ballroom came the lilt of music and the scent of flowers and, beyond in the dining room, guests caught a glimpse of a magnificent buffet supper fit for a royal palace laid out on large silver entrée dishes.

Soon the castle was filled with a whirling mass of colourful ball gowns and men in velvet doublets and the kilt as a piper played for reels. For those who didn’t want to dance there were chairs in the library, where Shane was soon holding court in front of the bar as he recommended different makes of whisky to the male guests. The older ladies gravitated to the drawing room where it was less noisy and they could marvel sympathetically at their hostess’s bravery in moving to the manse the next day.

‘It will be cheaper to run,’ one murmured hopefully.

In the great hall the younger guests jostled with the Fairbairn girls who, Lady Rothbury proudly admitted to herself, looked outstandingly beautiful, all being tall and slender, with fine profiles and lustrous dark hair.

It would not be long, she reflected, before Alice, Flora and Catriona also had husbands to whirl them around ballrooms.

‘It’s going very well, isn’t it?’ Laura said to Robert as they came off the dance floor, having danced an energetic foursome with Beattie and Andrew. ‘When are we having the fireworks?’

‘I thought we’d have them just before the ball ends,’ Robert replied.

She nodded in approval. There was so much noise of people talking and the fiddlers or the piper playing that she had to shout to be heard. It was two o’clock in the morning and the revelry was at its height. The castle seemed to shake with music and activity and laughter, and Robert decided this was the perfect moment to set off the firework display before everyone got tired and started drifting away.

An announcement was made and the guests all surged into the garden, pouring out of the front door and on to the lawn, huddled in great enthusiastic groups, some carrying glasses of wine, others holding hands. Suddenly the clear dark sky was splintered into a thousand sparkling lights and there was a loud crack. Gasps of appreciation followed and clapping, and that was only the beginning. Laura, standing beside Walter, had never seen such an incredible display of colour and lights, as sparkling fountains burst above their heads and arched over the castle’s ramparts, or whizzed straight up into the air and exploded high above them. There were burning waterfalls of gold that fell out of the sky and whirling will-o’-the-wisps cartwheeling over the tree tops. Then there was a final display when the ground shuddered as if in an earthquake, releasing several rockets which whizzed up into the sky before bursting into giant starry pom-poms which hung above the silent crowds for a moment before fragmenting slowly and drifting down like sparkling apple blossom in a summer breeze.

Laura looked at Walter but he was staring in the direction of the castle. She turned and saw a fiddler standing on the ramparts with his bow raised. A moment later he was joined by another man whose lone voice floated poignantly from the ancient battlements.

The party was over. By tomorrow the family would have gone, bringing to an end five hundred years of Scottish history and for the Fairbairn girls a lifetime of memories.

‘Laura? Is that you darling?’ Diana called out when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She hurried out of the breakfast room and placed her hands on her sister’s shoulders as she reached the bottom step.

‘There’s someone here to see you,’ she said in a quiet voice.

Laura’s hazel eyes widened nervously. Sleepless nights had taken their toll in the last two months and, although staying with Diana had been the essence of comfort and tranquillity, she still felt shaken to the bone, her very being jarred by what had happened.

‘Debt collectors?’ she whispered anxiously.

Diana smiled reassuringly. ‘No. Walter is here. He’s come to see you.’

‘He’s here?’ For a moment Laura looked distraught and then she started trembling. ‘Oh, God! What’s he doing here? I’m not ready for this.’

‘I think he wants to make amends. He’s in the study. Why don’t you go and see him; Robert and I will keep out of your way for a while.’

‘I’m still so angry,’ Laura confessed, her mouth tightening. ‘Caroline doesn’t know he’s here, does she? I don’t want her upset.’

‘She’s having breakfast in the nursery and I’ve sent a message up to Nanny to keep all the children up there for the time being.’

With a quick nod Laura turned and marched towards the study.

‘Good luck,’ Diana whispered sympathetically. ‘Call me if you need me.’

Walter was standing with his back to the fireplace, and as soon as he saw Laura his face lit up and he was smiling, his eyes wide and clear. His expression reminded her of a child who has been very naughty but is certain of adult forgiveness.

‘Hello, Laura,’ he said eagerly, coming forward as if to kiss her, but she sidestepped him and with furrowed brows looked at him coldly.

‘Why are you here?’

He dropped back, looking crestfallen. ‘I thought you’d be glad to see me. I’m well again, darling. The doctors said I’ve made a wonderful recovery. I very much wanted to see you, too.’ He lifted his chin, rallying again. ‘I’ve been staying with Rowena, who has been looking after Neil, which you so obviously didn’t want to do and she . . .’

‘That’s unfair,’ Laura shot back. ‘He’s happier with his aunt than he ever was with me. He’s never liked me because he resented me taking his mother’s place in his life and you know it. Why do you think he set fire to my bedroom? Then the drawing room? He’s badly disturbed by his mother’s death and your drinking; the poor child is much better off with his aunt, who can give him stability.’

Walter looked surprised, as if he was unaware of his son’s feelings. ‘I believe he’s very fond of you,’ he protested. ‘I’d like us to all live together again as a real family. You, me, Caroline and Neil, and Rowena is quite happy to put us up in her house.’

Laura blinked. It was as if the events of the past had been no more than an inconvenience caused by his ‘illness’.

‘What? Live with you and your sister? Sponge off her and her widow’s pension until you bleed her dry? Until you drag her down as you did me, until she loses everything too?’

Walter’s expression was one of incredulity. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, offended. ‘I wouldn’t dream of sponging off Rowena. I shall get a job. You’ve become very bitter, Laura. I’m surprised at you. I didn’t think it was my money you were after.’