His American Fling

by Brogan, Kim

  I started sniffling which caused Henry to pull out a clean, freshly pressed handkerchief with his initials and coat of arms embroidered on it. He handed it to me with the sweetest smile and a pat on my shoulder. Finally, Campbell got up to say a few words about his father. I was awed by his presence. His back and shoulders were straight, his hair perfectly combed, his blue eyes clear and piercing. He spoke with that Oxbridge accent that made you think you were in the house of Parliament. The words were simple and heartfelt. He didn’t drag it on, but it was long enough to be respectful and honorable. I was very proud of him. He took his place in the pew as the Bishop continued the church ceremony.

  The program indicated that there would be music next, that someone would sing Auld Lang Syne. Gemma leaned in to Campbell, “Darling, we weren’t able to get your father’s favorite singer. There was silence as the Bishop took his seat.

  Campbell narrowed his eyes and knitted her brow. “You mean, we don’t have a singer to sing Auld Lang Syne for a Scottish Earl? I could tell from his voice that he was angry, nervous and stressed over this. I didn’t understand the big deal, but just from his voice, I knew it was. Campbell’s mother leaned in and there was a strained conversation, somewhat tense, about the fact that there was no one to sing Auld Lang Syne.

  I made money as an undergraduate student renting my voice out on New Year’s Eve and for Burns’ suppers in January singing Auld Lang Syne. I not only learned Auld Lang Syne a cappella, but I learned it in Scottish Gaelic, taught to me by several Scottish men who heard me sing it the first time and almost cried at my poor pronunciation. By the time they were done with me, I sounded more Scottish than Billy Connelly.

  I don’t know where I got the courage or what bright idea even made me think I could pull it off, but I stood up, looked at Henry, excused myself and slid past his knees. Walking up to the area where the musicians had played, I cleared my voice and looked out over the crowd of black ties and gorgeous hats. I saw Campbell turned in his seat and having a somewhat animated but hushed conversation with Fiona. I closed my eyes and began.

  Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

  My voice cracked. I looked around and saw several people grimacing, and Campbell staring down at his legs, unable to look at me. The Bishop handed me a glass of water and I took a drink, cleared my throat and started again.

  Should auld acquaintance be forgot

  And never brought to mind?

  Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

  And auld lang syne?

  I made it through eight stanzas, the entire song and I knew that I had nailed it. Despite the false start, I looked out and was amazed to see handkerchiefs dabbing eyes and people nodding approval. I quietly went back to my seat. As I passed by, Campbell grabbed my hand and squeezed. I looked down into his eyes and my heart clenched; his eyes were misty. He nodded and smiled, then let my hand go. Henry scooted over to let me have the aisle seat. As I sat down, Henry put his arm around my shoulder and whispered, “Well done, Mags, well done.”

  The ceremony ended and the pall bearers carried the coffin out the doors to a refrigerated truck. I turned to Fiona, “What’s going on?”

  “He’ll be buried up in the family vault in Dunskey Castle.”

  “Where is it located?”

  She put on her sunglasses. “Scotland, in Galloway.”

  “I see. So Robscott is just their home down here?”

  Fiona looked over her sunglasses and grinned, “Yes, Robscott Manor is just a little vacation home. The Falkirk realm is in Scotland.”

  “I see.”

  We climbed into the car and waited as the mourners piled into their cars. Fiona and I watched Gemma and Campbell’s mother hold each other’s arms as they climbed into the Rolls Royce. Campbell, his sunglasses now covering his gorgeous eyes, climbed in with them. His sister and her family were in the town car behind them. After a few minutes, the cars started out of the drive and towards the main road.

  “So do they live in Scotland or down here?” I asked.

  “They live mostly down here, closer to London and the House of Lords. But, during the summer months and sometimes at Christmas, they’ll go home.”

  I sat back and watched as the British countryside floated by outside. It was winter so the landscape was void of the beautiful yellow bloom of rape that covered the hills in spring and summer. As we drove to Robscott Manor, my blood pressure was rising. I’d soon see where Campbell grew up. Not sure what to expect, I tried to imagine a large room with little boy furnishings and toys all over it. In my mind, the manor would be big, maybe five bedrooms and have a well groomed gravel drive, a nice reception room, maybe a library, a dining room, and large kitchen with a beautiful English garden in the back. I then imagined Dunskey Castle to be much larger, more imposing.

  “Maggie, what made you get up and sing? That was rather ballsy of you!” Henry asked.

  “Campbell seemed very distressed that his father wouldn’t have Auld Lang Syne sung at his funeral. I know the song and, even though I don’t have a great voice, it’s better than nothing, so I did it for him.”

  “You’re voice was perfect for the song. It was strong, but very haunting. You did well. I know that Campbell’s family probably appreciated it, I did,” he said with a smile.

  “I hope so. I really hope so.”

  We turned into a side road then passed a quarter mile of stone wall on the left, with open fields to my right. I watched as the cars started to turn between a break in the wall where two large iron gates stood wide open. Attached to the gate was a large majestic bronze plaque with Robscott Manor inscribed on it. The gates stood guarding the gravel road that lay beyond it. I craned my neck as we drove through leafless woods of the late autumn. The road then took a gentle curve that led to large open fields. On both sides of the road were herds of sheep grazing along with the occasional cow and geese. I finally looked straight ahead and gasped. A small lake and a gazebo on a pedestrian bridge lay to the west. Directly in front of the car stood a large Jacobean home with a façade from the late eighteenth century. The building itself sprawled over several acres. It was massive, it was opulent and it was gorgeous. But the scope and grandeur of it was very daunting and for a middle-classed Californian, very overwhelming. I could feel my head go fuzzy.

  “Welcome to Robscott.” Fiona said casually.

  My eyes were saucers. I tried to comprehend what I was seeing. “Fiona, surely this doesn’t all belong to Campbell’s family?”

  “No dear, it all belongs to Campbell, The eleventh Earl of Falkirk.” Fiona looked over at me. “Mags, you’re white. I don’t think you have a drop of blood in your face. What is it dear?”

  My voice wavered and cracked, “I was expecting big, but not monstrosity. What is the castle like?”

  “Actually, the Falkirk estates themselves are larger, but the actual castle is half the size of Robscott.”

  “Oh, God. What have I gotten into?”

  We pulled up and several servants rushed to our car doors, opening them and then standing at attention. Fiona grabbed her hat again and so did I. A young teenage male stood at attention dressed in a black and white suit.

  “The bags are in the boot. Please find out where our rooms are.” It was said more as an order than as a request.

  “Yes, ma'am. May I ask the name of our other guest?” The young man was referring to me, but continued to address Fiona.

  “She’ll be your Lady one day if the Earl has any sense. This is Miss McGee.”

  “Thank you.” He gave a slight bow.

  “Has Lord and Lady Stratford arrived?” Fiona asked.

  “I will check for you, Lady Raleigh.” The young man was faced in Fiona’s direction, but didn’t look directly at her.

  “Oh, don’t bother, I shall find them.” Fiona began to take off her gloves, “Oh, there Maggie, there’s Nigel and my parents. Come, I want you to meet them.”

  I followed in her wake over to Nigel and an older couple who were stan
ding talking to another, younger couple, who walked off just before we arrived. I had to go past Campbell and Gemma who were engaged in deep conversation with the Bishop.

  Fiona put a hand on my back and extended her other hand towards her parents, “Mother, Father, this is Maggie McGee. Maggie, Lord and Lady Stratford and you already know my horrid brother.”

  Lord Stratford was very tall, like Nigel. In fact, I could see that Nigel shared his father’s very good looks and kind countenance. He smiled at me. “Miss McGee, I am very pleased to meet you. Your rendition of Auld Lang Syne was well done. I was quite impressed. And you did it a cappella, very brave of you.”

  Fiona’s mother, who didn’t remind me of either Fiona or Nigel, also smiled. “Yes, how do you know our Fiona?”

  Nigel cleared his throat, “Actually, Maggie is my friend as well. She attends law school at Downing.”

  “Law school?” Lord Stratford asked.

  “Yes, I am finishing my law degree here before returning to California to practice.”

  Fiona chortled. “Pshaw! Father, don’t listen to her. Maggie’s a contender for Lady Falkirk and frankly, she has my bet.”

  They looked stunned. “What about Gemma dear? Imogene told me that Gemma was a shoe-in.” Lady Stratford, who looked quite dowdy in her plain but expensive black frock, said.

  I turned to Fiona. “Imogene?”

  “The Dowager Lady Falkirk.”

  I nodded.

  “In fact, I hear that Campbell and Gemma are going to Paris soon.” Lady Stratford said. “Come along, Campbell has moved inside. I do hope the food has been laid out. I’m up for a spot of tea.”

  I looked at Fiona who waved the back of her hand as if her mother was crazy. We started towards the front doors and as we started up the stairs, Nigel took my arm and led me inside. “You were wonderful Mags, so brave and daring as you marched up there and sang your heart out. You gave us a start when you began, but then you really did make us proud.”

  “Thank you, Nigel.”

  “Is my sister right? Are you going to stay with us in England and marry our Campbell? I thought you and Henry were an item.”

  “I’m so confused Nigel, I just don’t know. Speak of the devil.”

  Henry bounded over, reached out and shook Lord Stratford’s hand. “Lord Stratford.” He turned and smiled at Fiona’s mother, “Lady Stratford.”

  “Henry, it’s good to see you. We don’t see you anymore now that Fiona’s moved out.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry Lady Stratford, I’m afraid I’m just so busy with my practice and my darling Maggie.” Henry reached over and kissed me gently on the cheek.

  Lord and Lady Stratford gave each other a puzzled look. I’m sure it confused them that Henry was escorting me and yet Fiona was betting that I was going to marry the Earl of Falkirk. Frankly, I was as confused as they were.

  He turned and took both Fiona and me by the arm. “Darlings, I’ve had them put your things in my room. I understand we’re all bunking together for some reason. Something about you both batting for the other team?”

  Fiona frowned. “What makes you think we want to bowl with your balls?”

  Henry grinned.

  I blushed and stuttered. “We’re in with you?”

  He leaned in and raised an eyebrow, “Yes, is there a problem?”

  I was about to say something when someone grabbed Henry by his upper arm and literally dragged him away. It was only then that I was able to take in the hall that we had just entered. I tried not to look like a kid at Disneyland, but I felt small, really small. The hall was at least as long as a football field is wide and the ceiling went four stories high. The deep red damask wallpaper could hardly be seen behind the numerous portraits and pieces of art that hung along the entire length of the wall. I looked up at the ceiling in awe, immediately belying the fact that I was not part of the aristocracy. Studying the artful fresco work on the ceiling tiles framed by wide walnut beams, I must have looked like the tourist I was. The marble floors and high ceilings gave the room horrible acoustics with everyone’s voices reverberating and sounding like half of England was in attendance.

  Fiona touched my elbow to indicate that I should follow her into the reception. We went into what must have been the ballroom. It measured almost the entire length of the building and had three chandeliers hanging from 18 foot ceilings. There were chairs and a few tables for the older mourners. The rest were expected to graze the banquet table, grab a drink and either stand or find their own place to sit outside in the garden or in other rooms of the manor. My head kept swiveling on my neck as I gawked at the details of the architecture. There were sconces that hung between the large two story windows which were highlighted by the gold brocade wallpaper above the chair rail that reflected light from the chandeliers and windows. I was sure that during the night, the room must look like a scene from Cinderella.

  Campbell came over to Fiona and me and allowed himself a quick half-smile. He looked sober, but so incredibly handsome in his black suit, white shirt and black tie. The European Cut made him look taller and more sophisticated than I had ever seen him. He bent down and kissed my cheek. “You were wonderful in church today. My mother would like to see you.”

  He put his hand on my back and escorted me through the crowd. Several people turned, smiled and made a comment to me when we walked by, such as, “Well done,” “Lovely, dear,” “Beautiful voice.”

  Lady Falkirk was sitting down, her face clearly reflecting the stress and exhaustion she felt. Approaching her, I finally noticed that Campbell had her eyes. They were big, blue and serious, rimmed by the same thick, dark eyelashes. She interrupted her conversation with a very regal woman sitting next to her and turned to me.

  “Campbell, the Prince should be arriving soon, could you make sure that Walker is aware of this?”

  “Yes, mother, I will. You asked to see Maggie.”

  She smiled at me! It was a gracious, but not very warm, smile.

  “Maggie, I wanted to thank you for singing at the funeral. I must admit, I was somewhat upset at first and felt it was very out of place. But you did such a wonderful job that in the end I could only be grateful. Thank you. Have you met the Duchess of Hamilton? Duchess, this is Maggie McGee, a friend of Campbell’s.”

  Campbell knew that I had no clue what the protocol was so he whispered into my ear, “Just take the hand she offers and give her a little nod, say something nice.”

  I took her hand, nodded and blurted out, “Duchess, that’s a beautiful hat.”

  I learned later that I was supposed to simply say that I was pleased to meet her. She looked somewhat startled by my salutation, but then she put her hand on the brim of her hat and smiled broadly.

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it? It happens to be my favorite. Your rendition of Auld Lang Syne was very moving, dear. Well done.” She gave me the same gracious look that was on the face of Imogene Adair, Lady Falkirk.

  “Oh, thank you, Ma’ am.”

  Campbell put his long fingers on my arm. “We must go find Walker to give him the news.” Campbell led me away. “I haven’t seen the Duchess smile like that in years. She’s a pretty dour woman.”

  “How are you doing?”

  “I feel like my head is coming off. Come along, I need to tell Walker about the Prince.”

  “A prince is coming?”

  “Yes, the Queen always sends someone as a representative. Charles was going to come, but he’s giving the speech at a summit in Paris.”

  “Charles? You call him Charles?”

  He snickered at me, “Well, behind his back. When we’re in the same room, I call him Your Royal Highness. After all Mags, he will be the next king.”

  We found Walker, the butler, and warned him that the Prince was going to be arriving soon. Then we walked back inside and Campbell again steered me down the hall and around a corner. There were several doors. He opened one and we walked into the library, closing and locking the door behind us. I took a quick loo
k around at the thousands of volumes carefully stacked in the burl wood shelving. Campbell grabbed me up in his arms and kissed me as if hadn’t seen me in months. We broke apart briefly.

  “Take that hat off.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  He held his head back to take a look, “It’s lovely, but it doesn’t really make it easy for us to kiss, now does it?”

  I took it off and put it on the chair. He took my chin in his hand and leaned down to kiss me, his mouth slightly open. I closed my eyes as his entire mouth covered mine. His hand went down my back and we stayed close even after the kiss was done. I could feel his erection through the fabric of his trousers bulging and pushing into me.

  “Campbell? What’s this?” I reached down and stroked over the silk of his suit.

  “You see that desk?”

  I looked down the room and saw a large cherry desk with simple, but exquisitely carved legs and an ornately carved coat of arms on the front. He grabbed my hand and we walked quickly to the end of the room. Putting his hands on my waist, he lifted me, sitting me on the edge of the desk. Campbell reached up under my dress, caressing my thigh and kissing my mouth.

  I whispered into his ear. “Campbell, are you sure you want to do this here?”

  His voice was thick from his desire, “God, yes. I’ve been thinking about it every time I see you.” His other hand started traveling up my legs.