‘I’m not saying that’s why he’s marrying you, I merely meant . . .’
Laura jumped to her feet. ‘I know what you mean. You think we’re defined by our titles and the fact that we’re women. Thank God Emmeline Pankhurst formed the Women’s Franchise League two years ago. Soon women will be equal to men and allowed to vote, and it’s about time too. We’ve been regarded as appendages to our husbands, with not an original thought of our own, for too long. It’s time we stood up for ourselves,’ she added forcefully.
Her sister looked askance at her. ‘Here we go! Does Rory know you’re a secret suffragette?’
Laura burst out laughing. ‘Of course he does, and it’s no secret. That’s what he likes about me. Times are changing. Do you want to be like Mama? Letting Papa make all the decisions? At least we’ve now got a Married Women’s Property Act, but we need much more recognition.’
‘I’m happy with the way things are. I don’t want the responsibility of having to make all the decisions.’
‘So you’re content to live your life as a second-class citizen? A “Yes Woman” who does what her husband says?’ Laura countered swiftly, her hazel eyes glinting with intelligence.
Georgie, Beattie, Diana and little Eleanor came into the room at that moment and looked at them with curiosity.
‘What’s going on?’ Beattie asked.
‘What are you arguing about? We could hear you from the hall,’ said Diana.
Laura looked amused. ‘We weren’t really arguing. We were having a discussion about a woman’s role in the future. I believe we should have the same rights as men.’
‘How boring,’ Georgie exclaimed in disappointment.
‘Would you give up your title to make your husband feel less inferior?’ Lizzie demanded.
‘As my future husband will have a title already it won’t arise,’ scoffed Georgie airily.
At that moment they heard their father’s voice coming from somewhere outside the castle, yelling furiously at someone. Laura and Lizzie both rose to their feet and rushed to open the window, along with their younger sisters, so they could hear better.
‘If you come here again,’ the Earl was raging, ‘I’ll personally see you are flogged with a horsewhip, damn you! Do you understand? Keep away from here if you know what’s good for you!’
Then they heard another man’s voice, this time low and menacing. ‘As the Rowan tree is my witness, I curse the Fairbairn family from here until eternity.’
‘Go and be damned!’ yelled their father in response. ‘Get out of here or I’ll set the dogs on you.’
There was a skirmish of horses’ hooves followed by the clip-clop of someone riding away down the drive. Then they heard Lord Rothbury speak again in a calmer voice to the ghillie. ‘Linton, that man is not to be allowed on my land again. Call the police if you see him and have him arrested at once for trespass. On no account must he be allowed to come anywhere near me or my family. Now take Megara back to the stables. I won’t be going out again today.’
‘Yes, M’Lord.’ Linton sounded utterly quenched and unlike himself.
A moment later they heard their father cursing loudly as he stomped up the stone steps of the castle and into the great hall. ‘That bastard! I’d like to kill him.’
‘I’m going to find out what’s happening,’ said Laura.
Lizzie looked perturbed. ‘Do you think you should?’
‘I’m not afraid of Papa.’ Opening the library door, she stepped into the hall. ‘Papa? What’s the matter? Who was that you were shouting at?’ she asked calmly.
He shot her a furtive glance. ‘Mind your own damn business.’ Then he brushed roughly past her, almost knocking her down.
At dinner that night Lord Rothbury sat at the head of the long table, drinking heavily and refusing to speak. Only his wife’s ceaseless prattle broke the heavy silence and, as usual when there was trouble, she appeared as if she was unaware of it – that was her armour.
‘You haven’t forgotten, girls, that Mrs Armitage is arriving tomorrow?’ she asked brightly.
The sisters all perked up immediately and started talking at once.
‘What time is she arriving?’
‘How long is she staying for?’
‘Mama, I need a new coat . . .’
‘Two winter skirts . . .’
‘A smart day dress and . . .’
‘She can make my wedding dress, can’t she?’ Laura’s voice was the loudest. ‘And my going-away suit. I want a sapphire-blue velvet skirt with a matching jacket with satin revers.’
Lady Rothbury threw up her hands with a girlish gesture. ‘Goodness me! You’ll work the poor woman to death. She’s only staying for three months. May I also remind you that before she does anything else she has to make my winter wardrobe.’
Georgie immediately looked rebellious. ‘We can plan what we want, though, can’t we?’ she asked defiantly.
‘You’re way down the pecking order,’ Lizzie observed bossily. ‘I’m the first who needs new clothes, then Laura and then Beattie. Anyway, you’re not going anywhere special.’
‘Then when do I get new things?’ Diana wailed. ‘I want to have a new jacket.’
Suddenly Lord Rothbury rose to his feet; his face ruddy and bloated, his height and breadth dominating the room and making Diana cower back nervously. He raised his crystal wine goblet in his hand and then with great force threw it down into the fireplace. There was an explosion of glass splintering as it hit the old bricks, causing the dogs to jump to their feet with fright.
‘Let me remind you,’ he boomed above the din of screeching daughters and yelping dogs, ‘that “I want” doesn’t mean “I get”.’ With that he turned and stormed out of the room with Megan at his heels, her tail between her legs.
Little Eleanor couldn’t get to sleep that night. Something strange was happening below her bedroom window, where an ancient and rather magnificent Rowan tree grew. She’d always loved its scarlet leaves and the bright red berries that hung in the autumn like magical rubies from the branches. Nanny had once told her that the berries were the blood of the tree, and those who shed its blood would be for ever cursed. That was why no one was allowed to cut branches to bring into the house to enhance an arrangement of flowers. It was also why everyone regarded the Rowan tree with awe and great respect.
So why was someone standing under its branches with a lantern in the middle of the night?
Eleanor managed to open her window a little wider so she could see better. Nanny had also said the Rowan tree was the protector and guardian of the family, and if anyone harmed it the tree would become malignant, harnessing powers of evil it would use to harm the family for eternity.
Shivering in her thin nightgown, as if the wind coming from the west was ice-laden, she peered down, trying to see what was happening. A sudden movement below startled her as she saw a man in a long black cloak raise the lantern up among the jewel-laden branches before putting it on the ground. Then she saw his hands, pale in the dim light, resting on the trunk of the tree.
She heard the man’s voice, low and rumbling and full of vengeance. It filled her with fear, for she knew instinctively that something terrible was about to happen, something fatal that she wished with all her heart she could prevent but knew she couldn’t.
The voice rose threateningly. ‘May God desert you. May each and every one of you suffer as I suffer. May ruin beset you and destruction fall upon your heads for the injustice you have shown me.’
The voice had risen higher, full of anger and anguish, spite and venom. ‘Damn you all in the name of the Almighty. May you rot in hell.’
The lantern went out. The empty silence that followed was even more frightening than the cursing. Eleanor blinked into the darkness but she could see nothing now. Trembling, she closed the window tightly and crept back to bed and pulled up the blankets. Her head ached and she’d never felt so cold. Most of all, she was filled with terror.
‘Mrs Armitage, can I
have long, tight sleeves with smart cuffs, please?’
‘I’m dying for a pin-tucked blouse, like this one in the magazine.’
‘I’ve drawn a picture, Mrs Armitage, of the jacket I need so badly. Please can you make it for me?’
Lizzie and Laura with Beattie, Georgie and Diana were quietly driving the dressmaker mad. They were all talking at once and they all wanted their new garments to be made first. They reminded her of a flock of hungry birds, all trying to peck at one morsel of food.
Mrs Armitage’s tired face broke into an indulgent smile as she looked at the Fairbairn girls, who were renowned for their beauty, their slender figures and long legs. She enjoyed their creative input and stylish ideas, but there were moments when she felt overwhelmed by their demands.
‘I think it would be a good idea if you each gave me a list of what you require, then I can show it to Her Ladyship. I’m sure that once I’ve completed her winter wardrobe I’ll be able to start on yours,’ she said diplomatically.
‘When will that be?’ Georgie asked impatiently.
A glint of annoyance flickered in the dressmaker’s eyes. Georgie was her least favourite. ‘I believe we should do what we always do,’ she replied smoothly. ‘I will start with the eldest of you and work my way down to the youngest.’
Georgie’s scowl deepened. ‘I need new things more than the others,’ she grumbled.
‘No, you don’t,’ Diana argued. ‘You and I don’t need much. Lizzie, Laura and Beattie need things more, especially Laura.’
Mrs Armitage turned to Laura, her favourite in the family. ‘I hear you are to be married, Lady Laura? May I wish you every happiness.’
‘Thank you.’ Laura flushed with pleasure and her eyes shone with excitement. ‘You will make my wedding dress, won’t you?’
‘It would be a great honour and nothing will give me more pleasure. Have you thought about what fabric you’d like?’
Laura nodded, running her fingers through her long dark hair, which she still wore hanging down loose on her shoulders. ‘I’d like it to be made of ivory duchess satin. Mama says I can wear her Brussels lace veil and she’ll lend me a diamond tiara.’
‘How splendid. I imagine the rest of you will be bridesmaids?’
The girls all nodded, with the exception of Lizzie. ‘Laura isn’t getting married until next year so I may well be getting married first,’ she announced importantly.
‘You’re not even engaged yet,’ Georgie protested. ‘Talk about counting your chickens.’
Lizzie raised her chin. ‘I shall most likely become engaged any minute now.’
‘Oh, rubbish, Lizzie! You’ve been talking about marrying James Fraser since you were fifteen!’ Beattie mocked good-humouredly. ‘Has anyone told James what’s expected of him?’
‘They are practically childhood sweethearts,’ Diana pointed out loyally.
Mrs Armitage rose to her feet. Any moment now hostilities were about to break out, and from experience it was better to be out of the way when that happened.
‘I must go to Her Ladyship now. There’s a lot of work to be done and I must attend to your mother’s needs first.’
Beattie looked over at Eleanor, who’d been sitting silently in the corner, her presence unnoticed by the others. ‘You’ve been very quiet, sweetheart? What’s the matter? You want some pretty new clothes too, don’t you?’
Eleanor had dark shadows under her eyes and she looked troubled. ‘I suppose so,’ she replied listlessly, ‘but what’s the point?’
‘What do you mean?’ Lizzie demanded. ‘You’ll soon be eleven and able to wear almost grown-up dresses.’
Eleanor shook her head. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’
‘I could try.’ Beattie spoke gently. It was unlike her younger sister to be so withdrawn.
‘Forget about her – let’s get on with making lists of the clothes we want,’ Georgie intervened. ‘If only there weren’t so many of us. When I get married I’m only going to have one daughter and I’ll make sure she gets everything.’
Freddie pushed his chair away from the dinner table. ‘I’m not staying with a bunch of empty-headed girls who talk about nothing but clothes,’ he said rudely. ‘Come on, Henry. I’ll give you a game of Whist,’ he added, as if he was bestowing an honour on his younger brother.
‘You need four people for whist,’ Henry pointed out as he slid from his chair.
Freddie’s tone was lofty. ‘I’ll rope in Hamish and Joe.’
Lizzie looked shocked. ‘You can’t play with the stable lads,’ she protested. ‘Mama, tell them they can’t do that.’
Lady Rothbury smiled indulgently at her beloved son and heir. ‘You don’t gamble for money, do you, dearest?’
‘With marbles,’ he replied rather too swiftly. ‘We gamble with marbles. What’s the harm in that?’ Then he swaggered out of the dining room and Henry followed sheepishly.
‘You shouldn’t allow it, Mama,’ Georgie said.
‘It’s just boys being boys.’
‘It’s more than that,’ Lizzie pointed out. ‘For one thing it’s not fair on Joe and Hamish. They’re not in a position to refuse Freddie anything, and I don’t believe they only have marbles for betting any more than I believe it when he says they’re drinking a pint of water! Freddie is only thirteen, for goodness’ sake! And Henry is just nine. He ought to be in bed by now.’
Her mother looked pained. ‘You must allow your father and I to decide how to bring up the boys,’ she replied stiffly, although everyone knew William couldn’t control his dogs, far less his sons.
Laura remained silent, lost in her own rainbow thoughts. It wouldn’t be long before she finally left Lochlee as Rory’s wife, and the rest of her life would be with him, in their own home, doing only what they wanted to do as they created their own family in the happiest of atmospheres.
How she longed for it all. It was cold and gloomy in the castle and the only fun they had was of their own making, such as playing croquet or following the guns or reading. Once she was married to Rory she vowed never to return.
‘Rory says he’ll often take me up to town,’ she confided to Diana during one of their evening chats when they crouched by a log fire, rubbing their hands to keep warm. ‘We’ll go to concerts at the Royal Albert Hall which Queen Victoria has named after her late husband. Then we’ll dine at the famous Café Royal in Regent Street where the cuisine is French. Apparently Oscar Wilde goes there a lot. Oh, we’re going to have such a marvellous life, Di! I’m counting the days until we get married.’
She spread her left hand to look for the thousandth time at her ring, a symbol of Rory’s love and her key to the future.
As the days dragged on Laura’s longing to get away increased and out of boredom more than anything she started to sit in Mrs Armitage’s suite of rooms to watch her making clothes for all the women in the family. At first she enjoyed their conversations, but gradually she became fascinated by the way the dressmaker cut the cloths and tacked the seams for the first fitting. Then she watched, spellbound, as Mrs Armitage worked at a machine that did the stitching for you, saving hours of work – and the result was neater, too.
‘Can I have a go?’ she asked excitedly one day. She’d watched how Mrs Armitage used a foot pedal to turn the wheels that made a special needle do the stitching, and it didn’t look difficult to work.
‘Certainly, Lady Laura. I’ll give you a piece of flannel to practise on,’ she replied, amused.
After a few false starts Laura suddenly shrieked, ‘The machine’s running away! How do I stop . . .! Oh, goodness, this is fun.’
It wasn’t long before she’d mastered the machine and learned to control how much pressure to apply to the pedal. Then Mrs Armitage showed her how to refill the spool with cotton thread. Laura was enchanted.
‘One could do pin-tucking by machine,’ she exclaimed, ‘and hemming, couldn’t one?’
Mrs Armitage nodded. ‘It cuts the hand stitching I used to do by eighty per
cent, too. To be a really good dressmaker there are three things it’s vital to do.’
Laura looked at her curiously. ‘And they are?’
‘Press. Press and press again. As soon as you’ve done a seam it must be thoroughly pressed, or the seam will show when the garment is worn. If the sewing machine is a dressmaker’s best friend, then a hot iron is her very best friend.’
Laura looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Do you suppose . . .’ she hesitated, then the words came out in a rush. ‘Will you help me make my own wedding dress? I mean, really make it? I’d design the style. Cut the cloth. Tack and stitch it, although you’d have to help with the fittings?’
The dressmaker smiled. ‘I don’t see why not,’ she said slowly. ‘I’ve always thought you had a talent for design and you’ve just proved you’re willing to learn. It would be a real novelty for a bride to design and make her own dress.’
Laura’s face glowed with delight. ‘Thank you. I’ll work on some designs right away and you must tell me how many yards of satin I’ll need.’
Mrs Armitage laughed. ‘Lady Laura, you’ll be doing me out of a job if you’re as talented as I think you are.’
‘Can I be your apprentice, then? Can you give me simple things to do on all the others’ clothes? Please say yes. It would help me pass the time until I get married.’
‘It would be a pleasure to have such a willing student.’
‘You’re going to do what?’ Lizzie asked when she heard the news. ‘It’s a bit infra-dig, isn’t it? Wearing home-made clothes?’
‘We’re already wearing home-made clothes,’ Laura retorted.
‘Yes, but made by a professional seamstress! Running up your own wedding dress is an appalling idea. I’m sure Mama won’t let you.’
‘How can she stop me? It’s my wedding and my dress, and I’m sure Rory will approve when he knows.’
‘Don’t think you’re going to be allowed to even put a pin in my wedding dress when I get married,’ Lizzie said loftily.
‘I’ll be living it up in England by the time you get married so I’ll be far too busy.’
Lady Rothbury came into to room at that moment. ‘What’s going on? What are you quarrelling about?’
The Fairbairn Girls Page 3