For the Love of Scotland

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1868-1

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1868Julia climbed out of bed and then pulled back the curtains from her bedroom window.

It was wide open and at once the sun enveloped her in its rays.

She realised, as she expected, that it was a beautiful day and it would be very hot later on.

She glanced down at the garden which seemed to her to become more beautiful every day and certainly every summer.

Even as a small child she had been delighted when her Nanny had pushed her pram into the flower garden.

She would delight at the continual buzzing of the bees circling round the flowers and the butterflies fluttering above them.

She knew when she looked out now that she must go into the garden as soon as possible.

Hurriedly she then pulled on her clothes taking out the first dress that came to hand from the wardrobe.

She thought that it was not herself who would look attractive, but the flowers she was longing to see as well as swathes of spring blossom.

It only took her just a few minutes to dress and she brushed her hair without even looking in the mirror to see if it was tidy and neat.

Then she ran to the door and pulled it open.

It was so early in the morning that the servants had not yet drawn the curtains. The passage was in darkness with only a faint glimmer of light emanating from the hall below.

There was, however, no need for guidance.

She was only too anxious to be in the garden and to be surrounded by beauty.

She had lived at The Manor since she was born and to her it was the most beautiful house in the world without any exceptions.

She ran down the stairs, unlocked the door and let herself out.

Then, as the sunshine covered her, she ran into the flower garden.

She felt that the flowers were waiting for her and they needed her as much as she needed them.

*

It was three hours later that Julia went back to her bedroom to tidy herself for breakfast.

She had spent all those hours, as she so loved to do, amongst the glorious kaleidoscope of flowers.

She had walked down from the garden towards the lake.

She wanted to swim in the cool water, but she had promised her father that, as the lake was so old and deep, she would never swim there alone.

She would always have someone watching her just in case she got into trouble. It was a promise that she had always kept, because the lake was so much an integral part of her life.

Just as the garden and house were the background to everything she thought about and felt in her heart and soul.

Now the front door was open and the servants had already brushed and dusted the hall.

She went slowly up the stairs looking with pleasure at the magnificent pictures above the mantelpiece and on the walls on either side of it.

A great number of the pictures had been collected by her father’s family all down the centuries.

They were the great pride and delight of the family including Julia’s older brother, who would one day inherit them when he succeeded to her father’s title.

What her father had said and what she knew always lay at the back of his mind was that he himself was the only member of their illustrious family who had not been able to add to its marvellous collection.

Because life had altered so much over the centuries, the Westwoods were not as rich as they had been more than a hundred years ago.

In fact they now had to spend their money with the greatest care.

They most certainly could not add to the pictures or to the library as her father’s ancestors had managed to do so successfully.

In fact the library was often quoted as being one of the finest privately owned libraries in the country.

Just as his pictures were spoken of and admired all over the world.

‘If we had more money,’ Julia thought, ‘we could buy more horses.’

She forced herself to be content with the fact that the horses in the stables were excellent, but there was not the number she would have liked to have filled the empty stalls.

However, because she loved her home so sincerely, she forced herself not to criticise when a picture needed restoring or a book was for sale that should have added to their collection, but which they certainly could not afford now.

Although she well realised that her father longed to purchase them, he was forced not to bid for them for the simple reason that he could not afford it.

As she reached the top of the stairs, she then heard someone moving about below.

Glancing down she saw her stepmother coming out of the dining room where she had obviously just finished breakfast.

With a start Julia realised that, because she had so enjoyed being in the garden and down by the lake, it was far later than she had thought.

Her stepmother would have finished breakfast and would be extremely annoyed that she had not been present for the meal.

Hurriedly she went to her bedroom in order to tidy herself before she ran down the stairs.

Her stepmother heard her coming and turned round.

“Oh, so there you are, Julia,” she said sharply. “I suppose you realise that you are late as usual for breakfast and have just wasted your time, as you usually do, messing about in the garden, when you should have had breakfast with me.”

“I am sorry, Stepmama,” Julia replied, “but it was such a lovely morning and the sun was shining on the lake. I saw a large number of baby ducklings that were not there yesterday. It was so exciting to see them swimming behind their proud mother.”

She then realised, as she finished speaking, that her stepmother was not going to answer.

She was merely frowning, as she usually did when she came into contact with her stepdaughter.

Julia had no illusions.

She well knew that her stepmother disliked her.

She had done so since she had come to the house thrilled and delighted at being the bride of the sixth Earl of Westwood.

They had met in France where she was, at the time, living with one of her relatives as her parents were both dead.

Mildred Fernway had been totally thrilled at having outwitted all her pushing contemporaries by making such a brilliant marriage.

She had not anticipated or even thought about the fact that he had children by his previous wife.

The Earl had been extremely happy with the girl he had married when she was very young.

She had given him two sons and a daughter besides being, in every way, exactly what one could have expected of a Countess.

She was adored by all the people on the estate and by those in the villages owned by her husband and there were quite a number of them.

The only blot on their complete happiness during their marriage was the fact that the Earl found it more and more difficult to keep the house and his large estate in the perfection he always desired for them.

Expenses grew greater and greater every year and the money which he had inherited from his ancestors grew smaller.

In fact, when the boys were old enough to go to Eton where their father had been educated, the Earl had found it difficult to pay for their fees.

Also to give a big ‘coming out’ ball, which he fully knew was anticipated of him, for his daughter.

Somehow he and his wife had really struggled to give her the balls that were expected in the country and in London.

They knew that the whole of their family would be horrified if what had taken place all down the centuries was ignored and Julia had to be content with a luncheon party or perhaps a tea-party down by the lake with just a few of her contemporaries.

Although it was impossible for the Earl to sell any of the treasures that ornamented the walls of The Manor, because like everything else they were all entailed onto his eldest son, although he did in fact sell a necklace which his grandmother had contributed to the family jewels.

He hoped fervently that no one would realise that it was missing.

Julia, therefore, was able to be given her official coming out ball in London.

It was not held in the house in Park Lane which had been let for ten years to someone who could afford the very considerable expenses it entailed, but in the house of one of her father’s aunts.

She had been fortunate to marry a rich man and this was accepted without much comment.

But the huge ball in the country which everyone of importance in the County expected to be invited to, was an occasion that could not take place anywhere else but in the ballroom of The Manor.

It was large and, as it had not been used for some years, it required a great deal of hard work before it was useable.

But the ball had certainly been an unprecedented success.

Julia had been acclaimed by all those present as the most beautiful debutante besides being the most successful one of the year.

It was shortly after this that the Countess, who had never been especially strong since her second son had been born, died unexpectedly.

It was an undeniable shock to her family, especially her husband.

He had been extremely happy with his wife and he had often thought that he was the luckiest man in the world because he had a wife he loved and who loved him.

He also had an heir to his ancient title, which he was inordinately proud of.

He owned a Manor House filled with treasures that made everyone who looked at them exclaim how fortunate he was in a way which told him clearly that they envied him for being the possessor of so much wealth.

What they did not know, he thought bitterly, was that it was difficult to give his treasures the background to which they were entitled.

There were parts of The Manor that were very old and long overdue for repair.

The staff attending to the house and family had to be reduced year by year simply because he could not afford their wages.

The garden that gave Julia such happiness was very spectacular where it could be seen, but sadly it was in need of attention in so many other parts, which fortunately were hidden from visitors.

Only Julia knew just how difficult it was for the few gardeners they could afford to keep such a large area from running completely wild.

She admitted to herself that the kitchen garden was a disgrace except for a small portion of it which provided the fresh vegetables needed by the family.

But, because she loved it just as it was and would never criticise it even to herself, she refused to face the fact that a great part of the family assets were falling into rack and ruin.

But she was content because it was her home which she loved.

It was two years after her mother’s death that her father was invited to France.

As the good friend who invited him was paying all his expenses because they were to be travelling together, he accepted the invitation.

He not only wanted to visit France but his doctors informed him that he needed a change of air and they had no wish to have him as an ill patient.

He had to admit to himself that he enjoyed being with his friends and being abroad.

What no one expected, especially his family, was that he would marry again and return home with his new bride.

‘Just how could he possibly want to marry anyone,’ Julia had asked herself, ‘when he was so happy with Mama and so utterly miserable when she died?’

It was a question which was answered when she met the bride.

She was the one daughter of a distinguished French Nobleman and her mother had been an American. She had inherited very much more from her mother than from her father.

In fact it was difficult for anyone to think that she was anything but an American.

She was attractive and was always very generous with her money.

That she was in love with the Earl was obvious.