The Fairbairn Fortunes

by Una-Mary Parker

  ‘How can I possibly leave here?’ she demanded in panic-stricken tones. ‘I’ve got to arrange for all the paintings and the things Mama left you to be taken to all your houses. Then there are masses of boxes full of papers to be sorted out. It’s going to take months just to clear all the drawers in Mama’s desk,’ she added breathlessly.

  Beattie looked at her sympathetically. ‘Dearest, Mr McTavish will do everything for you.’

  ‘But there are things I have to see to myself,’ Catriona replied.

  When they were alone, Laura and Diana looked at each other anxiously. Laura was the first to put into words what Diana was thinking. ‘She’s obviously upset about leaving here and will do everything to delay her having to move out,’ Laura whispered. ‘I must say, I feel awful that three of us are benefitting from her being turfed out of her home in this way.’

  ‘Catriona is not the only pebble on the beach,’ Diana protested. ‘I think Mama was right to leave the bulk of her money to the three of you who have no one to support you. What would you do when you can no longer work? And Flora, too. In the end she’s benefitting as much as you and Flora so it’s very fair. I know it’s hard for her right now because she was so close to Mama, but Mr McTavish will look after all the arrangements.’

  ‘If she’ll let him,’ Laura remarked drily.

  ‘I’ll get Robert to tell him to look after everything,’ Diana said firmly. ‘I have a feeling that she was expecting to be left this house and all the contents for the rest of her life,’ she added thoughtfully.

  Laura looked appalled. ‘Do you really think so? How lonely she’d be in a ten-bedroom house! And think of the expense of paying the staff wages? She can’t really have expected that, can she?’

  Diana shrugged. ‘I don’t envy Mr McTavish. I fear he’ll have a battle on his hands, and to allow her to stay here at vast expense for the rest of her life would have been really unfair to you and Flora.’

  Edinburgh, 1920

  Laura was surprised to find the flat as neat and tidy as when she’d left it the previous week. Caroline was notoriously undomesticated and she’d feared that she’d return to a hovel of dirty dishes and untidiness. She smiled with delight. Then she took her suitcase into the bedroom they shared and for a moment her heart stood still with shock.

  It was exactly as she’d left it and she could see from the way she always folded over the top sheet that the bed hadn’t been slept in. So where had Caroline slept? And who with? Like her mother she’d been brought up to believe that it was immoral to sleep with a man until the wedding night.

  ‘Men talk,’ Lady Rothbury had told all her daughters. ‘If they meet a girl who will sleep with them they will tell all their friends and in no time at all that girl will have a bad reputation. Even if she’s only slept with one man she’ll never get a decent husband.’

  Laura and all the others had listened and obeyed Mama. It was important to find a ‘decent husband’. In fact, it was vital unless they wanted to end up spinsters. Mama was right, Laura reflected now. Robert, Humphrey, Shane, Colin and even Andrew would never have married her sisters unless they’d been virgins. When she married Walter she was still a virgin, despite being engaged to Rory.

  If Caroline … At that moment she heard a key in the lock and Caroline came bouncing into the room.

  ‘Oh, you’re back?’ she said, surprised.

  ‘Yes, I’m back,’ Laura replied evenly. ‘Where have you been staying while I was away?’

  Caroline flushed, her face red. ‘With one of the girls in the show,’ she replied defensively.

  ‘Where does she live?’

  ‘What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?’

  ‘I asked Mrs Anderson to keep an eye on you. Have you seen her?’

  ‘Oh, that old bag! She popped in the first evening and I thought she’d never go. I was meeting Charlotte for supper and when I eventually got there Irene said I could sleep at her place. Ask her if you don’t believe me,’ she added rudely.

  Laura sank into a chair. ‘Caroline, my mother has just died. The funeral was two days ago. I am tired and upset. I want to believe you but somehow I don’t. Haven’t I always told you the most valuable possession a young woman can have is a good reputation?’

  Caroline looked sulky but her eyes brimmed with tears. ‘I did stay with Charlotte,’ she insisted. ‘In the boarding house where she’s staying.’

  ‘Are there young men staying in this house, too?’ Laura asked.

  She nodded. ‘It’s full of people from the show.’

  ‘But you slept in Charlotte’s room instead of coming home?’

  Caroline nodded again. ‘I’m so sorry about Granny. Was it a big funeral?’ It was obvious she was trying to change the topic of conversation.

  Laura had suddenly had enough. Tired and deeply saddened by Mama’s death, the tears ran down her cheeks. She’d returned to Edinburgh longing to tell Caroline they would be receiving a lot of money when Mama’s affairs were settled but the moment wasn’t right. For a minute, she felt defeated. Caroline had always been a handful and now she was a young woman the struggle to keep her from getting into trouble was going to be considerably more demanding. Walter had indulged her when she’d been small and as far as he was concerned she could do no wrong.

  ‘I’m going to have a rest,’ Laura said, fighting back tears.

  ‘What about supper, Muzzie? I’m starving,’ Caroline said in a helpless little girl voice.

  ‘You seem to be able to look after yourself so why don’t you make your own supper?’ Laura walked out of the room, averting her face, overwhelmed by what had happened in the last few days and filled with dread for the future. How had this come to pass? she asked herself as she lay down.

  London, the next day

  As the Rolls-Royce drew up outside the imposing Belgravia house, Beattie turned to Lizzie and Humphrey with a smile of gratitude. ‘My dears, I can’t thank you enough for everything. The journey to Scotland and back would have been a nightmare without your help.’

  ‘Darling, it was nothing,’ Lizzie replied, while Humphrey pointed out Beattie’s luggage to their chauffeur.

  The sisters kissed goodbye. ‘Good luck, Beattie,’ Lizzie whispered. ‘Whatever decision you make, you know that I’m here for you.’

  Beattie had told her about Andrew wanting them to stay together and that she still hadn’t decided what to do.

  ‘I’ll keep you posted,’ she whispered now. ‘It’s a big decision.’

  Humphrey escorted Beattie up the white marble steps with a discreet, ‘Take care of yourself, my dear.’

  ‘I will. And thank you again for everything. My! It’s been a strange week, hasn’t it?’

  ‘And a sad one. We shall all miss Mama.’ He squeezed her hand before hurrying back to the car. She watched his retreating back. He’d been wonderfully forgiving when Lizzie had had an affair. Was she as generous-minded as him? Would she ever forgive Andrew and act in such a noble manner?

  The first thing she noticed about the house was that there were great vases of roses in every room.

  ‘Where did they come from?’ she asked Briggs, the butler.

  ‘Mr Drinkwater ordered them, milady. He knows they are your favourite flowers.’

  ‘The children are at school, I imagine?’

  ‘Yes, milady. Can I get you anything? A cup of tea or coffee?’

  ‘No, thank you, Briggs. We had breakfast on the train. I think I’ll go to my room and have a little rest. Is my husband at home?’

  ‘No, milady. He left early but he asked me to tell you that he’ll be home for dinner tonight.’

  ‘Thank you, Briggs,’ she said lightly as she climbed the wide ornate staircase.

  Beattie saw it as soon as she entered the bedroom and her pulse quickened. A large, flat leather jewel case had been placed on the pillow of her side of the bed. Striding across the room she picked it up with trembling hands. Sitting on the side of the bed, she opened it. ‘Dear God!’
she said under her breath.

  On a shaped bed of black velvet lay the most exquisite diamond necklace she had ever seen. The stones had a fiery glitter and in the centre of the case were a pair of drop diamond earrings in a design that matched the necklace.

  She couldn’t help but be hypnotized by the sheer beauty of Andrew’s present. Conflicting thoughts raced through her mind. Was Andrew buying her forgiveness? Then she thought how wonderful it would look the next time they went to a Royal Family gathering. But of course if she got a divorce there would be no more invitations to grand functions. An hour passed and by now she was lying on her bed with the open jewel case by her side. Mesmerized by the magnificent jewels she rolled over and started laughing quietly to herself. If Humphrey had forgiven Lizzie (despite her never even apologising for her behaviour), then she could certainly forgive Andrew.

  Leaving her bedroom, she went down to the kitchen where she ordered Andrew’s favourite dishes to be served at dinner that night.

  ‘For the first course, Mrs Clark, can you make prawn cocktails, followed by lamb cutlets with all the trimmings and then meringues filled with cream and a hot chocolate sauce?’

  ‘Yes, milady. Would you like it served at eight o’clock as usual?’

  Beattie looked thoughtful, and then she turned to Briggs. ‘Can you put a bottle of our best champagne on ice and serve it in the drawing room at eight o’clock, please.’ Then, turning to Mrs Clark, she added, ‘We’ll dine at eight thirty.’

  ‘Very good, milady.’

  When Beattie had gone they looked at each other triumphantly. Their jobs looked safe. The chambermaid who had cleaned and made up the bed with snowy sheets had reported in excited whispers that ‘Mr Drinkwater ’asn’t ’alf got some jewellery for ’er Ladyship. If that don’t work nuffink will,’ she’d added in her cockney accent.

  Later in the day, Kathleen and Camilla returned home from their lessons at Miss Dunlop’s School for the young children of the nobility.

  ‘Mama!’ they shrieked with delight when they saw Beattie. She hugged them in turn, her eyes brimming with tears at the reminder that her own Mama was no longer with them.

  ‘Was Grandma’s funeral sad?’ asked Camilla.

  ‘Hush!’ reprimanded Kathleen. ‘Daddy said we weren’t to talk about that because it would upset Mama.’

  Beattie pulled herself together and put her arms around them. ‘That was very kind of Daddy,’ she told them. ‘It is very sad and we’ll all miss her very much but life goes on. What did you do at Miss Dunlop’s today?’

  They all started talking at once and the tremulous moment had passed. She just wished that her mother had lived long enough to know that she planned to stay with Andrew.

  By seven thirty that night she’d put on an elegant black dinner dress with long sleeves and a low V-neckline. Then she put on the diamond necklace. It was colder and heavier than she’d expected, and a moment later the matching earrings hung from her lobes. Looking in the mirror at her reflection, the effect was dazzling. Her heart was beating with excitement when she heard knocking on her bedroom door.

  ‘Come in, Andrew,’ she said gaily. This was the moment she’d been looking forward to all day.

  It wasn’t Andrew. Briggs stood in the doorway, his face pale.

  ‘I’m sorry, milady. The police are here. There’s been an accident.’

  She could feel the blood draining from her face and her head began to ache. ‘No …’ she croaked feebly.

  ‘Mr Drinkwater was on his way home and a large lorry crashed into his car …’

  Her hands flew to cover her face. ‘No! No!’ she beseeched.

  ‘I’m afraid …’

  ‘No! It can’t be …’

  Briggs kept control of his emotions. ‘Mr Drinkwater has been taken to Saint George’s Hospital and there’s a police car downstairs ready to take you to the hospital. I’m afraid his chauffeur was killed instantly.’

  Beattie was tearing off her jewellery and, grabbing a coat, she struggled into it as she followed Briggs down the stairs.

  ‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ she whispered. ‘Not now. Not when … Briggs, the children mustn’t be told until we know how badly my husband has been injured.’ Her voice caught on a sob of pure panic.

  ‘I’ll look after everything, milady.’

  The Manse, earlier that day

  Catriona looked at Mr McTavish in bewilderment. ‘What do you mean? Mama’s will very clearly lists what she’s leaving to my sisters, and only then do we have to sell this house.’ Her voice was surprisingly firm.

  ‘Your late mother’s will at no point stresses the order in which her property is to be disposed of,’ he pointed out firmly.

  ‘In that case why don’t we give what she has bequeathed to my sisters first? You must understand I’m in no hurry to move. There is so much to sort out and I can’t do it in a matter of months. I need several years before the house can be sold.’

  Mr McTavish had always viewed Lady Rothbury’s youngest daughter as meek and mild; an inexperienced woman who had lived a sheltered life as her mama’s companion. It was therefore a surprise to find himself up against a stubborn spinster who disagreed with everything he said. Maybe he was handling the situation in the wrong way? Maybe he should appear kinder and more paternal.

  ‘Look, my dear,’ he began in what he hoped was a calm and patient manner, ‘you and the other two beneficiaries of the sale of this house want to raise as much money as you can. Right now you’d get a really good price. But strip it of the paintings and furniture and the price will drop dramatically. You’d need to have every room redecorated to cover the markings on the walls where pictures were hung, then you’d need to get new drapes for the windows because these ones will look shabby against fresh paint. You will spend a fortune to get it to look as good as it does right now.’

  Catriona looked at him stony-faced. ‘Why can’t we leave things as they are for a while? My mother has only just died and, as I have said, I’m not in a hurry to …’

  ‘Nevertheless, your sisters are. Lady Laura and Lady Flora asked me when could they hope to buy houses for themselves. My job, Lady Catriona, is to carry out Lady Rothbury’s wishes as speedily as possible. I will be putting the house in the hands of Fraser and Scott, who are top-rate estate agents. They will evaluate the worth of the house and aim to find a suitable buyer.’

  Catriona gazed out of the window, her expression bleak. ‘So that’s that then,’ she said quietly, as if defeated. ‘Why did you let my mother make such a complicated will?’ she asked bitterly.

  The lawyer looked surprised. ‘It’s not complicated, really. You don’t have to do anything except sort out your mother’s papers, but only if you want to. I can do that for you, and I’ll make all the arrangements with the estate agents.’ His tone became even more gentle and sympathetic. ‘Once the house has been sold I’ll also arrange for the items she bequeathed to your sisters to be sent to their houses. And I can arrange for the remaining furniture and paintings to be auctioned; that is, if you and Lady Laura and Lady Flora don’t want them for the houses you intend to buy for yourselves.’ He rose to leave and she followed him to the front door, wondering when this nightmare was going to end. Ever since Mama died, the horror of what was to happening was overwhelming her. Everything she loved and valued was being torn away. What did she think that morning before Mama became ill? Probably that she’d be alive for another ten years or so. After all, she was only seventy-six, and what did she think would happen then? She imagined that she’d continue to live there, cherishing everything in memory of her beloved Mama. She’d have two more Cavalier King Charles spaniels to go with Max and Lottie and they would be her family. Dogs were so much easier to look after than children and, as far as she could see, far more rewarding.

  Catriona reached for the phone. She would talk to Robert and tell him that he must get hold of Mr McTavish and insist things be left as they were for the foreseeable future. What was the hu
rry? She mentally put her foot down. From this moment, she refused to even consider moving out.

  London, that night

  It was two hours since Beattie had arrived at St George’s Hospital but the nurses kept saying she could see her husband as soon as he came out of the operating theatre.

  ‘Is he badly injured?’ she kept asking, but the nurses always side-stepped her questions by telling her the surgeon would be able to tell her in due course. It was eleven thirty, too late to get a message to Lizzie – too late to get anyone. Supposing he dies? Supposing he’s already dead?

  At that moment, a tired-looking man in white overalls came hurrying along the corridor, accompanied by a nurse.

  ‘Mrs Drinkwater?’ he inquired, and Beattie jumped to her feet. ‘How is my husband?’

  ‘He’s going to be fine. He has some broken bones, particularly to his right leg and shoulder, but we’ve pinned him back together and I don’t expect any complications. He’ll have to stay here for several weeks but he should make a complete recovery in time. He’s forty-two and his general health seems good, so I don’t expect any problems.’

  Beattie nodded wordlessly, hardly daring to believe that Andrew would be making a full recovery. As a wave of relief washed over her, she said, ‘Can I see him now?’

  ‘Yes, but he’ll be a bit woozy so it would be best to only stay with him for a few minutes. The nurse will take you to see him now.’

  ‘Andrew?’ she said softly once the nurse had led her to his bed. His face was grey and drawn and his eyes were closed. ‘My poor darling. I’m here and I’ll always stay by your side,’ she whispered.

  His eyes opened. ‘You mean it?’ he murmured.

  ‘Yes, I mean it. I was going to tell you tonight. I’d ordered your favourite dinner as a thank you for the beautiful necklace and earrings.’

  ‘You like them?’

  ‘I love them, but more than that, I love you.’

  ‘Mrs Drinkwater, your husband needs to rest. Why don’t you come back tomorrow?’

  Andrew frowned. ‘She’s Lady Beatrice Drinkwater.’