Chapter 14

The party at Lord Barnes’ was like nothing Andrew had attended ever before. For a start there were two policemen at the end of the drive on the street, checking everyone. That should have been his first clue. Well no, his first clue should have been that Moira was 1,000 miles away. Anyway. Andrew’s name was checked, twice, before a very suspicious constable let him through the gate. Someone took his coat once he was in the house, they had hired staff, and he was left standing in the hall of Lord Barnes’ house wondering what the hell he was doing there? Now there were people in trousers and a blazer just like him but there were also dinner jackets, a number of people wearing the kilt and a lot of suits. This was not Harry Strachan’s Hogmanay party. Now at Andrew’s height it was tough to hide so forcing his feet to work he headed through to the formal part of the house, the dining room and drawing room and the hubbub of chattering voices. When he got there Andrew stood against the wall, wondering if it would be rude to just bolt when a glass of beer was presented to him. He looked down and there was Mhairi’s fiancé Neil looking even more freaked out than Andrew felt. He knew it wasn’t charitable but knowing that there was someone hating this more than him, relaxed him slightly. Slightly.

“You look like you need that. Me, I think I need 10.”

Andrew shook Neil’s hand and laughed mirthlessly.

“As a card carrying member of neither the great nor the good I know what you mean. What the hell are we doing here? Do you think they would notice if we just stood out the back and chatted. I have never smoked a cigar in my life but I am willing to give it a go if it will get me out of this.”

“I would but Mhairi would kill me. She saw you come in and sent me over to stop you fleeing. I think she is the second youngest person here so guess what that makes you!”

“I got the impression that they weren’t expecting someone my age at the gate. The constable was reluctant to let me in. Okay then if we can’t do a runner and we are not allowed to hide out the back let’s talk tactics. Who are all these people? Are they all lawyers? What can you tell me?”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“This is a political as well as legal party Andrew. There are at least two or three junior ministers here, several of the judges of the Court of Session, I got briefly introduced to an Earl and there are a bunch of rich folk wandering around. Why do you think there are police at the gate? Did no one tell you about it?”

Andrew shook his head.

“No, I got asked by Barnes himself 10 days ago but no mention was made of the guest list. I am almost glad I didn’t know, I am not sure I would have had any sleep last night or if I would have even attended. Oh good, Brian and Mary are here.”

He saw Brian signal from the far side of the room.

“Looks like they are talking to your wife and her boss.”

“Six months yet, steady now.”

“Andrew.”

The prospect of a quiet night retreated over the horizon. Freya Moray bounded over in an elegant Scottish lady sort of way.

“Hello Freya, you look lovely. Thank you for inviting me to your party.”

“Have you been drinking? Calling me Freya without a fuss. We need to find Jim to see if it is universal.”

“Freya, have you met Neil Clark, a very talented artist, and the fiancé of Mhairi Connelly. Neil, this is our hostess, Mrs. Freya Moray, who once told me she works at the Scottish Office when what she meant to say was that she ran the Scottish Office.”

Andrew was now positive that women just liked hitting him.

“Neil how lovely to meet you. Jim talks very highly of Mhairi, he sees a long and distinguished career ahead of her.”

As so it began. The next thirty minutes were a kaleidoscope of names and faces including his MP Malcolm Rifkind, now a minister at the Foreign Office. He had been at Andrew’s party, both as a thank you for his help with the Department of Industry all those years ago, and because he and Brian were close. Andrew now got the feeling that Brian was much more in his element at these events than he had previously understood. Poor Neil was lost at some point but Freya wasn’t letting go of him just yet. Andrew saw Julian’s dad but could do no more than wave before being led to a group of three women, who were watching his arrival with amusement.

“Ladies, I would like you to meet Andrew McLeod, a remarkable young man and a friend of Jim and mine. Andrew, this is Her Grace the Duchess of Roxburghe.”

Holy shit.

“Her Ladyship the Countess of Inchcape.”

Beam me up Scottie I am dying here.

“And finally Lady Wylie.”

What no member of the Royal Family just to make the party complete?

“It is very nice to meet you all. Please forgive my ignorance but do I address you as Duchess, Countess, or your Ladyship? I am sorry but this is the first time I have ever met someone with a title.”

It was the Duchess who spoke, maybe it was her right as the senior member of the nobility.

“If we were at court then there are endless rules to follow and in formal settings it would be Your Grace but since we are at Jim and Freya’s party please call me Jane this evening.”

The Duchess was also the heavily pregnant.

“I am Fiona.”

This from the Countess.

“I am Jean.”

Lady Wylie.

“Thank you.”

After a few minutes of chit chat Andrew realised that they were all tilting up at him the whole time.

“Shall we find some seats for a few moments, I am used to people preferring to talk to me sitting down, it is better for the neck.”

Two minutes later they were gathered round a small table and Andrew felt like a favourite nephew being spoiled by his aunts. The frivolous nothings of polite conversation didn’t last long before the interrogation started

“I must say Andrew, you don’t disappoint. Freya has told us many stories about you. We have all heard the dinner story, some of us more than once, but would you mind telling it from your point of view.”

Jane, Duchess of Roxburghe, was clearly a woman who was used to getting her own way. Andrew looked over at Freya but she was no help.

“There was a girl in the year ahead of me, the smartest person in the year, who ended up being the Dux of the school. Her name is Allison. Allison and I went out for three or four months, but only once a month or so. We were both serious about our studies and our night’s out were a reward. We were both defined by our intelligence rather than looks or athletic prowess or anything like that. Like a lot of young women Allison was concerned about her appearance, her looks and her body. She was very lithe and slender and was self-conscious of that. So I decided, as a present to her, to buy her a dress that was not just flattering to her figure, it accentuated it. However much I told Allison that she looked amazing she always had doubts. Now Allison is also brave and stubborn, so when I asked her to go out with me wearing an outrageous dress, to walk into dinner and cause a sensation she plucked up the courage and agreed. My friend went with her and they got a wonderful dress, extremely deep ‘V’ front and back, above the knee but with a long thigh slit. I mean she could have worn it on the red carpet at Cannes, as opposed to the dining room of the North British in June. She looked fantastic and totally owned it. But without doubt it was the most outrageous dress I have ever seen.”

The three of them were captivated and Andrew could see one or two more listening behind Freya.

“Now this is where Freya and Lord Barnes join the story. Our host had forgotten to make a reservation for dinner and so just as we get to the Maître de I come face to face with Lord Barnes, who I had met 18 months earlier while I was tutoring his daughter in mathematics. We are all introduced and Allison whose father is a lawyer, you know how small Edinburgh can be at times.”

A lot of pronounced nodding.

“Well Allison recognises Lord Barnes from conversations around the dinner table. Quick side note, Allison’s parents are often at the North British dining room on a Saturday night. So Allison, without a word to me, asks Lord Barnes and Freya if they would like to join us. They had just been told there was no available tables but we could accommodate them at ours, and so they joined us. Allison walked in there like she owned the room, it was like one of those westerns where the good guy walks in and the place goes quiet. Absolutely owned it. The dinner was delightful; as someone who is quite shy and introverted it was fascinating to watch two people very good at holding and maintaining conversation. I learned a lot that night from both Lord Barnes and Freya. The crowning moment of course was that Allison’s parents were there, and not only were flummoxed by their studious daughter turning up looking like a movie star, but that she was also dining with a Court of Session judge. I am sure there must be other aspects of the story that I have overlooked but that is the gist of it.”

The three ladies were looking at him so intently Andrew thought he had something in his teeth.

“The motivation is the part of the story that is missing. It is fascinating to hear that part of it.”

This was Lady Wylie.

“Do you mind me asking a question? It was a not quite 17 year old and an 18 year old playing dress up. We had a wonderful evening and I had the opportunity to reconnect with Lord Barnes and to meet Freya. I know it is a good after dinner story because everything came off perfectly but I have always been surprised that it is talked about so much. Can you tell me why?”

This time it was the Countess that spoke.

“There are two things that stand out about your story. It was an utterly random Saturday night in June, no big occasion and there is your youth, as you say two teenagers dressing up for a night out. But the reason that Freya tells this story so much and we have all shared it as well, is because it was Allison’s night. You made it all about her, you let her invite two more people to dinner and didn’t care. Freya tells me you walked slightly behind Allison in the restaurant so that she was front and centre. Andrew, it is so rare for such things to happen, that people talk about it. You know there is the common phrase ‘behind every successful man there is a woman’?”

Andrew nodded.

“Far too often successful women have a man blocking their way. At only 18 years of age you have a reputation as someone who is not threatened by women, and is the opposite in fact. There are numerous examples of your behaviour. You overlooked the point that Allison was on the hockey team that you coached. A schoolboy coaching the first eleven hockey team. What was their record last year?”

“The team had a record of 22-2 I believe.”

“We know. Our granddaughter is at Erskine’s and we heard all about the Heriot’s team and their male coach. Their young male coach. There is a crazy rumour about you doing push ups with the team on your back.”

Andrew’s blush gave him away.

“It is true?”

A Countess should not be this giddy.

“I held tackle practice at the end of every training session. Any player that could tackle the ball off me got to sit on my back while I did five push ups. If five players managed it I had to do push ups with the whole team. That is why the team were demons in the tackle, they had all practiced on me for weeks.”

Andrew knew what every woman with large breasts felt like right at that moment. His eyes are up here ladies! Just then the Duke of Roxburghe turned up to check on his wife. So here Andrew was standing face to face with Guy Innes-Ker the 10^th Duke of Roxburghe. He could not help smiling at the absurdity of it all.

“Andrew, why are you smiling like that? What is so funny?”

Freya was going to be the death of him.

“Excuse me your Grace, I have a friend at Cambridge named Helena Innes, whose father is inordinately proud of a, how do I say this delicately, tenuous connection to your family. According to Helena neither he, nor any members of the family, have ever met you. I stayed with them for a couple of days before Christmas and I was just looking forward to the moment when I could tell him I had met you, if only briefly. He will be crushed especially as he called me a bloody Jacobite.”

The Duke laughed and extended his hand.

“Please to meet you Guy Innes-Ker.”

“I am Andrew McLeod, please to make your acquaintance Your Grace.”

The Duke looked at Andrew sharply.

“You are Andrew McLeod?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer that so went with the safe.

“Yes.”

“Douglas Somers was telling me about this young man he knew who was trying to make a difference. You are the same man, yes?”

“I know Doug well so I suspect he is talking about me.”

“I would like to have a word with you later, if you don’t mind.”

All Andrew could do was nod. The arrival of the Duke allowed him to escape from the group but for all of five seconds. Lady Wylie put her arm through his and steered him off to the side again. Andrew knew how the sheep feel.

“You do seem to laugh a lot Andrew, at apparently nothing.”

She was not critical, in fact she seemed to be having a fine time.

“I was merely mentally comparing myself to a sheep, Lady Wylie.”

“What are you saying young man, all the sheepdogs are female are they not?”

Wile E. Coyote was still running in mid-air but gravity was about to exert an inevitable influence. Andrew stammered in a frantic incoherent flustered manner for several seconds until she patted his hand and winked at him. Bloody woman.

“Too easy Andrew, too easy. I know you didn’t mean it that way, forgive me for having some fun.”