The Fairbairn Girls

by Una-Mary Parker

  Walter nodded thoughtfully. ‘Those who envy the very rich and exalted don’t realize what a heavy burden it can sometimes be. I’m sure your father really loved you all but the responsibility of owning a place like Lochlee must have weighed heavily on him. Why people seem to love their animals is because dogs and horses can’t talk. They can’t nag and ask questions or make demands.’

  Laura raised her eyebrows. ‘Is that what people do?’ she asked quizzically.

  Walter blushed, then grinned. ‘Some people.’

  ‘Women in particular?’ she queried, smiling.

  He laughed outright. ‘You’re very astute, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’d better not be too astute or you’ll never invite me here again,’ she quipped spiritedly.

  He instantly reached for her hand and held it tightly. ‘Intelligent conversation is wonderful. Foolish prattling can become wearing,’ he said, suddenly looking serious. ‘You’re not given to chattering inanities and frivolous nonsense.’

  He’s thinking of Priscilla, she thought, remembering how, from the moment Priscilla Leighton-Harvey had arrived to order an outfit, she’d talked non-stop about nothing in particular until the moment she left. It had driven her and Helen mad.

  Laura squeezed his hand and wished he’d take her in his arms. ‘Men can talk balderdash, too,’ she informed him playfully.

  ‘Can they indeed?’ Then he suddenly leaned forward and kissed her.

  A moment later she slid her arms around his neck and at once felt that this was where she belonged. As he drew her closer she closed her eyes, all doubts swept away.

  This was the man she’d marry and live with for the rest of her life. She’d really known it from the moment they’d met at Diana’s wedding and it felt right as she lay in his arms.

  As if he knew what she was thinking he drew back and looked down into her eyes. ‘I fell in love with you the moment we met, you know,’ he said with sudden passion. ‘I want you in my life now, Laura, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.’

  They were the words she wanted to hear and they’d been a long time in coming. ‘That’s all I want, too,’ she whispered, hardly able to believe her good fortune.

  Seventeen

  Lochlee Castle, 1905

  Lizzie and Humphrey persuaded Lady Rothbury and the rest of the family that if they had to leave Lochlee Castle they must do so with a memorable ball, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in the county for half a century.

  ‘We’ll all pitch in, won’t we?’ Humphrey asked his brothers-in-law. Robert, Andrew, Shane and Laura’s new husband, Walter, all agreed. It would be a splendid affair with pipers and fiddlers, fireworks and flowing wine. The castle would be filled to capacity with all of Lady Rothbury’s children and grandchildren, the eldest of which would be allowed to stay up until late. Hundreds of guests would also be invited to bear witness to what was the end of a noble era.

  They’d dance Highland reels all night and forget that the valuable portraits of past generations would in future be looking down on strangers. The family would also use the best silver for the very last time before it was sent to be auctioned. The reception rooms were already half-empty; not so that guests had the space in which to dance but because the best pieces had already been carted off to the sale rooms.

  Three days after the ball the new owners, an American railroad millionaire and his family, would take possession and try and pass off the family portraits as their own ancestors, whilst vulgarizing the castle with extravagant drapes and French furniture. None of the family wanted to think about that now. This was the last time they’d all be together in the family seat and they all wanted it to be a happy, unforgettable occasion, although they knew many secret tears would also be shed on both sides of the green baize door. Only those who toiled on the land were happy because Lochlee’s new owner had also managed to buy back the surrounding acres, providing employment for everyone in the neighbourhood. Henry’s dream come true, in fact, but under the auspices of another family.

  Laura found that Henry was very much on her mind when she arrived a few days before the ball with Walter and a nanny to look after their six-week-old baby, Caroline and little Neil.

  ‘All this makes me feel that Henry’s really gone for ever,’ she said as they walked around the echoing rooms.

  Walter slipped his arm around her waist. ‘It’s strange how things work out, isn’t it?’ he said, looking around. ‘Who would have thought the day we first met that Lochlee would no longer belong to your family? I imagine you thought there would be Fairbairns living here for the next five hundred years?’

  ‘We all took it for granted that Henry would marry and have at least one son and that Mama would live in the west wing for ever, and we’d all come home for Hogmanay.’ Her voice broke. ‘It really hurts to realize that after these next few days none of us will ever come back.’

  Walter held her close. ‘Alas, nothing is for ever,’ he said sadly. ‘But you have a new home now, my darling, and I promise Lasswade Hall will be yours for ever and ever.’

  ‘I know it will and I’m so thankful. It’s a beautiful house and I feel so safe when I’m at home.’

  Walter quickly averted his eyes. ‘And so you should be,’ he replied stoutly.

  Laura’s sisters may have been opposed to her marrying Walter because she hardly knew him; they may have begged her to wait because she knew nothing about him, but she had refused to listen to their disquiet and now she was thankful she’d gone ahead and married him. They’d slipped away for a quiet wedding on what was the happiest day of her life, and then he’d taken her to Paris for their honeymoon.

  Laura had never realized such happiness existed. To add to her joy she’d become pregnant almost immediately and now she had Caroline.

  She knew that even to this day they weren’t sure he would make her happy. She’d known all along, though, that Walter was the right man. Yet she could tell by the careful way they looked at her that they wanted to be sure she was all right. It was because they cared for her; she knew that. They feared she’d seized the chance of getting married before it was too late; she knew that, too. It might take time but one day they’d all realize she’d married the most marvellous man.

  ‘What are you two talking about?’ asked Beattie, coming down the stairs with Andrew. In her arms she carried her small son, named after Henry. ‘Isn’t it strange us all being back together? I’ve just been talking to Di and she says it seems like years since she left here.’

  ‘It is years since she left here!’ remarked Georgie, joining them in the hall. She patted her heavily pregnant stomach with pride. ‘None of our children are going to believe we were all born and brought up in a castle. At least mine aren’t! Surrounded by the constant smell of ale they’ll think they were born in a brewery!’ she added, laughing loudly. These days she almost boasted about living in a house attached to one of Shane’s pubs, as if it was much smarter than anything she’d previously been used to.

  Diana in particular had found this extremely amusing. ‘She practically apologizes for being titled these days, and mocks the way the rest of us live,’ she whispered to Laura.

  Robert came in through the front entrance of the castle at that moment. ‘What’s this? A mother’s meting?’ he remarked jokingly. Then he looked around. ‘Where are the other chaps?’ He dropped his voice. ‘We’ve got things to discuss and I want to tidy up some loose ends before the ball, as we’re all heading back home the next morning.’

  Laura and Diana looked at each other and their expressions were momentarily bleak. They didn’t want to think about what happened after the ball was over and they didn’t want to be reminded that when they departed the morning after, they would be leaving Lochlee for the very last time.

  Walter spoke. ‘Shall I send out a search party for Shane and Humphrey?’ he asked. ‘Then we can get the business over and done with and start enjoying ourselves,’ he added, squeezing Laura’s hand and speaking jovially.


  Georgie, Diana and Robert glanced at Walter with disapproval, his flippant manner jarring them at a tense time like this.

  The lawyers had looked after everything and had reported regularly, at Lady Rothbury’s request, to Humphrey and Robert as the disastrous financial details of valuation, probate and finally the amount due in inheritance tax to the Inland Revenue unfolded. It was a long and complicated business, involving the deaths of three Earls of Rothbury in quick succession.

  ‘The bottom line,’ Robert had announced, thinking it only right that Andrew, Shane and Walter should also be kept informed, ‘is that the Fairbairn family face ruin. Everything will have to be sold and I’ve never known one family to be hit so hard financially.’

  After lengthy discussion and a failed court appeal in which they had hoped to avoid paying death duties on Freddie’s inheritance, seeing as he’d fled the country and never taken up his father’s title, they found there would be enough money left to buy the manse, a large house three miles from the castle, formerly lived in by the late minister and his family.

  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?’