Chapter 5
1585
Mama swept into my chamber, looked me up and down, then sighed.
“Why are you wearing that green gown, Lilias? I thought your sisters told you to wear the blue one, it becomes your fair hair more. It is not just a baptism we are attending. You are about to meet your future husband for the first time. Everyone will be looking at you.”
“You know I hate to be centre of attention, Mama. And I don’t see why he isn’t marrying one of my sisters. He is ancient and I am not even fifteen.”
“You will be fifteen in a month and your fiancé is only thirty. And he has never been married before, so you have the most perfect match. It’s unusual for a gentleman of his age and standing. Besides, your younger sisters are not yet of age. And though it’s unfortunate that Catherine’s fiancé has just died, we will find another suitable union for her and…”
“If you and Papa would stop choosing fiancés who are twice our age, this might not happen,.”
She flicked her hand at my interruption and continued. “But as for you, dear child, your father and I have been working on the alliance for some time now, since the days we were close neighbours of the Setons in East Lothian.”
I adjusted the lace at my neck and looked at my mother. I knew what she going to say next. I’d heard it all before.
“And now we live up here in the north, it is even more perfect that Alexander has just bought Fyvie Castle. You will be Lady Fyvie after the wedding and live in that most beautiful place. It’s 27 the talk of Aberdeenshire, you know. He has transformed the castle from dour Scots to classic French in style. It was so clever of him to employ an architect from France. The results are quite stunning. They say it is like a château on the Loire.”
“So I’ve heard,” I muttered, while pulling an errant strand of hair behind my ear.
“Here, let me do that. Can your maid never manage to fix your hair neatly as I continually ask her to?” Mama yanked my locks up and I winced as she pushed the clasp in tight.
She headed for the door. “We leave presently, Lilias. Please do your best, we have invested a lot in this espousal. Be charming. Smile. Pay attention to the baby with the other ladies. That will make your future husband even more interested in you.”
“You know I love babies. In fact, I’d far rather stay here with my own baby brother. But you won’t allow that, I suppose?” I smiled, anticipating her response.
“On no account. Sweetheart, your father and I are delighted with your betrothal. It’s not as if you are our first daughter, with the pick of beaux. Now, shoulders back. Remember you hail from the illustrious family of Lord Drummond of Drummond Castle!”
With that, she flounced out. I love Mama, truly I do, but sometimes she puts outside appearances, rank and nobility above everything else. And now she had eight children to consider, she hardly had much time for us individually. But we always felt cherished. We all craved her attention as she was both warm and affectionate, but Papa expected her to tend to him too. So we children have always been far down her list of priorities – and, for the six of us girls, even more so.
I bent down in front of the glass to check my hair; it would just have to do. I picked up my shawl from the bed and followed Mama down the stairs to the front door to prepare for the journey to Fyvie Castle. 28
I will never forget my first sight of Fyvie. Whereas Drummond Castle is an ancient dark fortress built in cold grey stone purely for defence and certainly not beauty, the stonework of Fyvie Castle seemed to be bathed in a hazy pink, rosy hue, against the brilliant blue January sky. There was a magical air about it, and as we trotted up the slope towards the entrance, I marvelled at how elegant it looked, not at all what I was used to.
Mama stole a glance at me and smiled. “You see what I said, Lilias. Isn’t this castle something else? It’s the French, you see, they have such style.”
I had to admit she was right.
Grooms rushed out to help us down from our horses, which were then taken through the open portcullis, clip-clopping through the pend over the stone cobbles into the courtyard beyond. I walked forward and looked up at the stone arch high above the dark oak of the open entrance door. Underneath this triumphal arch were three windows and each had a coat of arms beneath, presumably belonging to the families who had previously owned the castle. I then looked to either side of the entrance way where there were two tiny narrow windows.
“These are the two guardrooms, Lilias. Fyvie would have required considerable fortification in the past.”
Looking at the heavy portcullis and solid door studded with iron bolts, it certainly seemed secure to me.
“I think I told you it was also a royal residence in the past. Princess Matilda, daughter of Robert the Bruce, lived here. And though our own dear Queen has not visited – and sadly is unlikely to do so now – the Setons are perhaps her most loyal Lords. She depended upon them so much after those treacherous noblemen abandoned her. And your husband-to-be is of course her godson.” 29 Mama beamed, delighted at our impending royal connection. “As I said, this castle has a long and glorious history.”
I nodded. My sister Jean was fascinated by all Mama’s tales of grandeur, and indeed had she been my age instead of only twelve, I would have insisted she marry this Alexander. I did not care for any of this, certainly not marrying someone so old.
“Mama, remind me again about the baptism. Why is it here and not at Rothes?”
She pointed over her right shoulder at a red sandstone building with a belfry, adjoining a stone wall that surrounded a beautiful garden.
“The chapel here is small but splendid. Any noble family nearby would be happy to have their child christened here. But in this case, James Leslie, the Master of Rothes, and his wife Margaret wanted the baby christened here while their chapel is being renovated. It’s too cold in January with an open roof for a newborn, even well wrapped up. They are old friends of Fyvie. Their connection to the castle goes back a long way; their family is of good stock. In fact, if the Master was not married to his own wife, I would have been delighted for one of my girls to marry him.” She tilted her head to one side and smiled. “I hear she is always poorly, so who knows what may transpire.”
“Mama! You must not say such things!”
She leant in close as we were about to enter the castle. “But do remember the other reason we are here is not the baby or its parents; it is for you to meet your future family and to stay awhile. I hope they will, as suggested, extend the invitation for you to reside here for a few weeks. That is why we have packed an extensive wardrobe.”
She turned to check the luggage was being unloaded as she had requested.
“I believe Alexander’s aunt Marie Seton is here at the moment. 30 You will enjoy her company. She is not only a striking woman – the same height as our Queen – but a formidable character. She is leaving in a few weeks for France to take the veil at the convent run by the Queen’s aunt. She is a woman dedicated to service – first of all, for all those years, to her Queen, and now to God.”
I wrapped my shawl tight around my shoulders as we stood in front of the dark entrance before stepping over the threshold on the tiptoe of expectation.