Beattie burst out laughing. ‘Sorry to disappoint you! Actually we are having mashed swedes and potatoes tonight but with beef instead of Haggis, which I must tell you is absolutely delicious. I love it.’
‘What exactly is Haggis made of?’ he murmured cautiously.
Beattie’s eyes sparkled mischievously. ‘Take a sheep’s stomach,’ she began, but seeing his expression she took pity on him. ‘No, I’ll tell you another time. I wouldn’t want to ruin your dinner tonight.’ She took a sip of her wine. ‘Where is your business?’
‘In London, I’m afraid,’ he replied almost apologetically, ‘but I go to my place in Kent at the weekends, which isn’t so bad.’
Beattie didn’t think it was bad at all. She hung on to his every word throughout dinner as he talked about his Elizabethan manor house with a knot garden, and his horses and dogs and the housekeeper he’d inherited from his late parents, who ran the house for him. Beattie’s brain spun with expectation like an awestruck fifteen-year-old as this charming thirty-three-year-old bachelor poured out his heart to her. It was obvious he was equally enchanted, because when the men joined the ladies in the drawing room after dinner he made straight for Beattie with the determination of a homing pigeon.
Lizzie and Laura watched this budding relationship with amusement but Georgie sat glowering, eyes smouldering, her mouth grim. No one had been even vaguely struck by her at the reception or at this dinner party, which she thought was boring anyway because all the guests seemed so old.
When the evening came to an end, Andrew Drinkwater and his sister bade Lady Rothbury goodbye, and he turned to Beattie, saying, ‘I won’t forget to send you that book on India.’
‘Thank you, that’s so kind,’ she gushed, gazing up at him as they shook hands.
‘India?’ Laura giggled incredulously when they’d left. ‘Beattie, when did you ever have the remotest interest in India?’
Beattie flushed with annoyance. ‘Have you forgotten our great-grandfather on Mama’s side was chargé d’affaires at the British Embassy in Lucknow during the Indian Mutiny?’ Then she turned and stalked off across the great hall and up the stairs to her room.
‘What’s the matter with her?’ Georgie asked.
‘Can’t you tell?’ Laura laughed. ‘She’s just fallen in love.’
The book on India wasn’t the only thing Andrew sent Beattie. In the weeks that followed there were letters, a sepia photograph of his country house, other books she might find interesting and finally an invitation from his sister to stay with her and her husband for a week in June at their Belgrave Square house.
There are several balls that week, Amelia Watson-Brown wrote to Lady Rothbury, and of course I will chaperone Beatrice at all times, and if you are agreeable my brother, who stays at his club when in London, would be very happy to escort her to these parties.
Beattie was ecstatic. The thought of going to grand balls in London during the height of the season had been beyond her wildest dreams.
Laura was commanded to make her at least two new evening dresses and Lady Rothbury lent her a lace fan, several pairs of long white kid gloves and a velvet evening cloak lined with ermine.
‘I wish I had some nice jewels,’ Beattie remarked sadly.
‘Unmarried girls shouldn’t wear jewellery as such,’ Lady Rothbury advised reprovingly. ‘One day your husband will buy you jewels but for now it would be most inappropriate.’
‘I bet you she’ll be engaged to Andrew by the time the week’s over,’ Laura observed as Beattie left for the station in a horse-drawn carriage with her trunk strapped to the roof. ‘They’re a perfect match.’
‘I think we can safely say it’s a certainty,’ Lady Rothbury replied gleefully.
Eleven
Lochlee Castle, 1899
‘Three down and another five to go,’ Lady Rothbury privately reflected when Beattie’s engagement was announced the following month. She wasn’t worried about Alice, Flora or Catriona; they were still very young, but she was concerned about Laura and Georgie. Especially Georgie. She didn’t make the best of herself and she didn’t try hard enough to please or attract anyone.
Beattie’s wedding was to take place in September, when the Oban Gathering took place with its Highland Games and parties every night leading up to the Oban Ball, which was a grand affair. Everyone who was anyone would be in Argyllshire then.
Lady Rothbury began making her meticulous plans, as she’d done for Diana and Lizzie’s weddings, which had now become a blueprint for all future family nuptials, and she was happily thinking about the choice of flowers for the church when Henry came into the room.
His mother looked up at him affectionately. ‘Are you ready to give another of your sisters away?’ she asked half-jokingly.
Henry looked at her seriously. ‘I shan’t be here for Beattie’s wedding, Mama.’
‘What do you mean you won’t be here? Of course you’ll be here. You don’t go to Edinburgh University until the end of September.’
He looked her straight in the eye. ‘By September I’ll be in South Africa, Mama.’
Her heart skipped a beat and then plunged sickeningly. ‘South Africa?’ she faltered, knowing what that meant because there’d been a lot about it in the newspapers.
‘Yes. I’ve just joined up. I’m off to fight the Boers.’
‘Who is going to give Beattie away?’ Lady Rothbury wept, knowing that wasn’t the reason for her tears but too frightened to even contemplate the real cause. She couldn’t bear to think of her beautiful boy being on the battlefield, facing the terrible dangers of musket wounds and cannon fire.
‘Has he joined up as a regular soldier?’ Georgie asked in astonishment.
‘Yes. He’s joined the Household Cavalry; he always did like riding. How I wish he’d discussed it with me first instead of rushing off in such an impulsive way.’
‘He probably knew you’d try and stop him,’ Laura said gently. ‘No mother wants her son to go to war but Henry has always had a mind of his own. He’ll be all right, Mama. There are thousands of soldiers from Australia, Canada and South Africa fighting the Boers. Not just soldiers from Britain.’
‘I shan’t have a moment’s peace of mind until he returns,’ Lady Rothbury spoke passionately. ‘The whole future of the Fairbairn family rests in his hands; apart from which, I need him here.’
‘Why don’t we ask Robert to give Beattie away?’ Laura suggested. ‘He’s your eldest son-in-law so it would be absolutely fitting.’
‘I suppose I could,’ she agreed with reluctance, ‘but it won’t be the same.’
Laura sympathized with her mother but she also knew Henry felt frustrated by the confines of the castle, especially now they’d lost their own shooting and stalking rights. He was just eighteen and thirsting for excitement and adventure, and the idea of sailing abroad to fight a war on behalf of Queen and country was something few young men would be able to resist.
Robert agreed immediately and offered any other help he could give while Henry was away. ‘You only have to ask and Diana and I will be delighted to do anything we can,’ he promised.
‘Aren’t we providing you with wonderful sons-in-law?’ Diana teased her mother. ‘You’ve got Robert and Humphrey and now you’re going to have Andrew Drinkwater, too.’
Lady Rothbury smiled wanly, refusing to be cheered. As far as she was concerned it was only Henry she wanted.
Nothing could dampen Beattie’s spirits, though. From the moment she’d returned from her visit to London, with a very large ruby and diamond engagement ring flashing on her finger, she had talked of nothing else but her dazzling future. Andrew was going to buy a house in London, ‘in the best part in Mayfair’, she added repeatedly, where they would stay from Monday until Friday, retiring gracefully to his Elizabeth mansion in Kent on Saturdays ‘where we’ll entertain and have guests to stay for a couple of days’, she enthused.
Whilst delighted for her, Diana and Lizzie began to feel that their pala
tial country abodes were positively suburban by comparison.
‘Imagine having two large houses to run,’ Lizzie remarked.
‘How exceedingly vulgar!’ Georgie retorted. ‘The next thing we’ll be told is that Andrew is buying the Crown Jewels for her. I never thought I’d have a sister who was joining the ranks of the nouveauxriches.’
‘Stop being so snobbish!’ Laura protested. ‘I think it’s really rather wonderful and I know she’ll be tremendously happy.’
‘He’s a businessman,’ Georgie reminded them, as if they weren’t already aware of the fact. ‘There isn’t a mention of him in Burke’s Peerage, although there will be once he’s married to Beattie.’
‘You’re just jealous,’ Laura pointed out. ‘The only thing I envy Beattie is the fact she’s getting away from here. I have half a mind to leave myself.’
‘Where will you go? What would you do with yourself?’ Georgie demanded.
‘Earn a living,’ Laura countered swiftly. ‘Make a life for myself.’
Georgie looked appalled. ‘Get a job?’ she asked in horror. ‘Mama would never let you. Girls from our background don’t work.’
‘Why not? There must be hundreds of skilled women in this country who are wasting their talent just because they’re only supposed to be wives and mothers,’ Laura argued. ‘I want to make something of my life. And I do have a talent. A natural talent, Mrs Armitage said. I want to design and make beautiful clothes and I know I can do it.’
Georgie sniffed. ‘Only common women are seamstresses. You’d let the whole family down if you did that. We’ve never been in trade, nor has anyone else we know.’
Laura covered her face with her hands for a moment and then she got to her feet with a gesture of exasperation. ‘Times are changing, Georgie. Women are fed up with being just ornamental ladies, kept in their place by their husbands and by society. Take Emmeline Pankhurst, who is working so hard for the rights of women. She’s formed the Women’s Franchise League so we’re at least allowed to vote in local elections now. Within a few years we’ll be able to vote in general elections and quite right, too. I don’t want to be stuck here any longer, Georgie, and neither should you.’
Her sister folded her hands primly. ‘Well, I don’t intend to work for my living.’
‘So what if you don’t marry a well-off man? Are you going to stay with Mama, doing your needlework and helping to arrange the flowers until you die of old age?’ Laura demanded hotly.
Georgie shrugged. ‘If I have to, then I’ll just have to. I certainly don’t intend to work, though.’
‘This is the worst day of my life,’ Lady Rothbury declared as Henry bade them all goodbye as he left Lochlee to join his regiment, which was sailing to South Africa the following week. The servants had all gathered outside the castle to watch him set off, the old retainers who had known him since he’d been born with tears in their eyes, the young maids smiling and waving, hoping they could catch his eye.
Flushed with excitement, Henry kissed all his sisters before saying farewell to his mother.
‘Come home safely, my darling,’ she whispered as she struggled for composure. ‘Take care of yourself.’
‘I will, Mama,’ he replied jovially, imbued with the optimism of youth.
‘Good luck, M’Lord,’ McEwan said gruffly as he gave a little bow.
‘Goodbye, McEwan. Look after everything for me until I get back,’ Henry replied as he ran down the front stone steps to the horse-drawn waiting carriage.
There was a loud chorus of ‘good luck’ from family and servants alike as they waved and cheered him off and Henry waved back, grinning with delight and loving his moment of glory as he set off.
‘Pray to God I never see a day like this again,’ Lady Rothbury murmured as she slowly climbed the stairs to her room.
‘He’ll be back before you know it,’ Beattie assured her cheerfully, ‘although I am disappointed he can’t give me away at my wedding.’
Laura looked at her trunk, packed and ready to go. With a sense of mounting excitement she realized that by this time tomorrow she’d be in Edinburgh and her new life would have begun. All the months of arguing with her mother would be over and she’d be staying with a Mrs Sutherland, a cousin of Lady Rothbury, in her house just off Princes Street. Mrs Sutherland was a widow who had been left penniless and it had been arranged that Laura was to rent a room for four shillings a month.
‘I will be sure to chaperone her if required,’ Mrs Sutherland promised, ‘and I will notify all my friends that she is a first-class dressmaker. For this,’ she added cannily, ‘I will expect a small commission from whatever business Laura derives from these introductions.’
Georgie had cast her eyes to heaven when she’d heard this. ‘You’re paying an old woman to tout for business for you?’ she exclaimed in mortification. ‘Mama, how can you let Laura lower herself in this way?’
For once, Lady Rothbury backed Laura’s plans. ‘She’s very talented. All the great artists have had sponsors when they started,’ she retorted, ‘and Lucinda Sutherland may be very poor but in her day she knew absolutely everyone and she’s managed to keep her friends.’
Her new sewing machine had been packed in a crate, and there was another box containing all the things she’d need, from pins and needles to sewing thread in every colour and sketching pads and pencils.
She hardly slept a wink on that final night in the castle. Earlier in the day she’d received little notes through the post from her sisters sending her their love and wishing her good luck. You’re so brave, Diana added, while Lizzie wrote, No woman in the Fairbairn family has ever doneanything so enterprising! Beattie had scrawled, Enjoy your big adventure! on a very elegant sheet of writing paper with her Mayfair address printed at the top.
Laura was deeply touched. The support of her siblings meant the world to her and, as a reminder of their affection, she tucked the notes in her handbag where she could look at them whenever she felt lonely.
There was no doubt she was going to miss them but they were all scattered around the country in any case. The only difference now was that they all had husbands and she didn’t. She was going to have to carve out her own future, by herself.
Twelve
Edinburgh, 1899
Mrs Sutherland greeted Laura with enthusiasm when she finally arrived in Edinburgh, exhausted by the long cross-country journey from Lochlee. ‘My dear Lady Laura!’ she squealed in her high-pitched, tinny voice. ‘Come in and welcome!’ She was a small woman in her sixties, bursting with energy as she darted about, hands fluttering, her little face pointy and pink.
‘I’m very glad to be here,’ Laura replied, ‘and thank you so much for letting me stay in your house.’ As she spoke she looked around the narrow hall and staircase to the upper floors, and saw what had once been an elegant abode reduced to shabby genteel poverty.
The old lady clapped her bony hands. ‘I’ve told lots of people that you’re going to be living here to do dressmaking and I can tell you, you’re going to be very, very busy.’ She wagged a finger knowingly.
As she prattled on she led Laura into a spacious ground-floor room with a bay window overlooking the street. It was comfortably furnished with a single bed in the corner disguised as a sofa with lots of cushions, but everything looked spotless and there was a faint scent of lavender.
‘This is lovely,’ Laura exclaimed. It was certainly an improvement on the hall. The light was good; there was a large table in the middle which would be perfect for her work, and plenty of space in a cupboard for her personal belongings.
‘My last lodger was a teacher,’ Mrs Sutherland remarked. ‘He was very clean and tidy.’
‘So am I,’ Laura assured her, laughing. ‘So you think I’ll have lots of customers?’
‘Clients, Lady Laura,’ Mrs Sutherland whispered urgently. ‘The ladies of Edinburgh and the surrounding area are most impressed that the daughter of an Earl is to set up in business here. I told them you lived
in a grand castle and they’re all looking forward to meeting you. You’ll get a lot of business, especially as we’re so near Princes Street where they all come to shop.’
‘You’re most kind, Mrs Sutherland, and I’m very grateful.’ She reminded Laura of a little mouse, scurrying around, hunting cheerfully for crumbs. ‘I hope my work lives up to their expectations,’ she added.
Mrs Sutherland looked up and her small eyes were as bright as glass buttons. ‘You haven’t forgotten our little arrangement? You’ll give me some commission on the work I get you?’
Laura smiled down at her reassuringly, thinking how sad it must be to be old and alone and begging for little perks. ‘Of course I haven’t forgotten, and from what you tell me I’m sure you’ll deserve some remuneration. I also have the money here for the first month’s rent.’ She dug into her handbag and withdrew a small white purse.
The old lady clapped her hands excitedly as she took it. ‘Oh, that’s very good, Lady Laura. Why don’t I make us a cup of tea while you unpack?’
‘Please just call me Laura,’ she said, privately longing to be left alone to lie down and have a rest but fearing that might look rude. ‘A cup of tea would be delicious.’
This was the start of her new life and she was desperate to succeed in making her own way in the world. Keeping in with Mrs Sutherland, she felt, was the first step.
It was after midnight and as Laura sat at the centre table stitching the hem of a pale grey taffeta dress she was making for a Mrs Insworth, she began to wonder how she was going to finish this dress and four others for different clients by the end of the week.
Mrs Sutherland hadn’t exaggerated six months before when she’d said ‘the ladies of Edinburgh’ were excited about finding a new dressmaker who could also design. She’d been inundated with requests for garments that ranged from dresses for weddings to funerals, gala Highland balls to small dinner parties, and even simple gowns to wear about the house or in the garden. Many of her new clients also had young daughters who were longing for pretty dresses too, reminding Laura of how she and her sisters had clamoured around Mrs Armitage, driving her mad as they begged her to make things for them.
The Fairbairn Girls Page 15
