A Chance Meeting in Glasgow

Chapter 32

“Tell me about the estate – but understand that Lady Torrington wrote me a letter about visiting there so I’ll be comparing what you each have said.”

“Well, first, don’t believe anything Anne said.”

“She said it was beautiful.”

“That - you can believe that.”

“She said the Hall was run down and there weren’t enough servants.”

“Hmm, well, that’s true too.”

“She said there are two little lakes – lochs, that are full of fat, stupid trout.”

“Ha!  That’s wrong. You’ll find the Torrington estate trout are remarkably intelligent.”

“Really?”

“Well, why not?  They spend so much of their time in a school.”

There was a brief silence as their eyes met.  Andrew began to howl with laughter.

She pursed her lips.  “You’re just patronizing me.  It wasn’t that funny.”

Andrew wiped his eyes.  “No, but the surprise of you saying it was!”

“Now you’re insulting me.  I can be clever.”

“I’m sorry, dear Katherine.”

She rolled her eyes.  “You’re forgiven.”

“‘Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.’”

“I…uh…”  She tilted her head as she considered him, mouth slightly open.

“So, Katherine, who are some of the people I’ll meet at the estate?”

“Oh, ah…at this time of year only Anne and her son.”

Andrew chuckled.  “They run the estate and keep the house all by themselves?”

“Right.  You’re not British upper class; you can actually see the human beings around you.  The butler is named Moore and the head housekeeper is his wife, curiously named Mrs. Moore.  They came as teenaged servants with my mother and have worked their way up.  They raised me after my mother’s death, Andrew, and I’m happy that you’re not upper class and I can freely admit that I love them dearly.”

They sat down with the little pot of porridge between them and two spoons.  Andrew seemed unfazed by this, but Katherine thought it was terribly romantic.  She began to imagine that they were the two lovers – from warring clans, no doubt - that met at this little place…

Argh.  I thought I got all that out of my head last night.

“This is good.  It’s different from the oatmeal in America.  Hmph.  Salt.  So tell me more about the people I’ll meet.”

“There are only a small number of other people you are most likely to interact with.  My brother will not be there this time of year.  Parliament is in session and he’s down in London with his personal secretary and valet, Mr. Clark.

“There is a governess, of course, for Robbie.  She’s a French woman about Anne’s age named Sabine Molyneux.”

“A French governess, up in the wilds of Scotland?”

“Oh, everything is connected somehow; she’s a younger, distant cousin of someone my brother was at Eton with or something like that.  There was some scandal in Paris last fall and her family shipped her off to the ends of the earth to do penance.  She’s actually smart and sweet and funny, and a really good governess in all matters except English language – if you can imagine, she was taught English by a Hungarian instructor for a little more than a year as a child.  She acts as a companion to Anne as well.  Even allowing her deficiencies in English, the family feels fortunate to have her.”