The Flight of Swallows by Audrey Howard

spring and the grouse season in August kept him busy here on his own estate or on those of his many acquaintances, some up in Scotland. Elizabeth was no youngster and if she did not bear him a son he did not care since he already had five but he had noticed how she eyed Charlotte, nine years younger than herself, and to get rid of his daughter and ally himself to another prosperous county gentleman might be useful.
    ‘And the boys?’ Elizabeth had prompted, for Elizabeth Parker, who did not really know her fiancé at all, fancied having him all to herself without a ready-made family to interfere in her new life. Like Arthur, she was not in love but having reached the age of twenty-five without finding a husband to suit her she thought she had him in Arthur Drummond.
    ‘What about the boys?’ he asked lazily, not really caring, smiling inwardly at this woman who thought she could get the better of him.
    ‘Are . . . would they not be better at school? Surely one of the good public schools would prepare them for the future life of a gentleman. A governess is suitable for young boys but the older ones . . . er, Henry, is it and William would do far better among boys of their own age.’
    ‘And Robert, who is only six?’
    ‘Young boys from good families go away to school at the age of eight. It toughens them for what lies ahead. My father is governor at Woodlands in Northumberland and I’m sure that if he approached the board . . . after all the boy will soon be seven, you told me.’
    ‘True. What a minx you are, Elizabeth, or should I say a spider spinning away your fancy web.’
    ‘I prefer minx, my darling.’
    ‘Well, why don’t you come upstairs and prove it to me.’
    The children stood before him, their faces expressionless as he explained to them that the boys were to go to school the day after he and Miss Parker were married. Both Charlotte and Mr Armstrong and he and Miss Parker would be away on their respective honeymoons and so Thomas and Miss Price would accompany them to their new school and then, probably at Christmas, they would come home to spend the holidays with him and their new mother.
    His cold smile played over them but none of them spoke. It was doubtful that Robert even understood. He was aware that something stupendous was happening that concerned his brothers and sister, and himself, of course, but he could not quite get his mind round it. His hand crept into Charlie’s but his father saw it.
    ‘Let go of your sister’s hand, sir,’ he barked. ‘You are not a baby,’ and as though his words had unfrozen her heart and allowed the blood to race once more along her veins, Charlotte sprang into life.
    ‘I suppose this is her doing, is it? Our new mother. She doesn’t want us under her feet and so I am to be married off to the first man to ask for me and my brothers whisked off to school as far away as possible. Robert is too young and so is James and if you imagine I agree with all this you are mistaken. I will not marry Mr Armstrong and I will not allow my brothers to be sent away as though they had done something wrong. Mr Armstrong cannot be serious, Father. We barely know each other.’ She was beginning to breathe heavily now in her distress and fury. She leaned forward and placed both her hands on her father’s desk, thrusting her face into his so that for a second he reared back, but a snarl was beginning to shape about his mouth and his eyes were the icy colour of the lake frozen in winter. A dark, murky brown with what looked like glints of silver in them, a sign of his own rage.
    ‘That is enough, girl. You are to be married on the 23rd of June and Miss Parker and I will follow on the 30th. Your brothers will travel, by train of course, up to Newcastle upon Tyne on the Sunday following and then on to the coast at Whitburn where Woodlands is situated. They will be ready for a new term when it begins. That is my last word on the matter so if you will be good