THE SCOTTISH SEAT
Beth Arbuckle put the finishing touches on an exquisitely laid table. Rain was falling again on the lush green garden of Larbert House. Beth sighed as she thought of her home in South Africa, where the sun shone freely. She'd chosen Scotland for her working holiday because of a fascination with her Scottish roots. The waitressing job at Larbert House helped fund some sightseeing and research.
She walked over to the sideboard where her friend Mandy was hard at work polishing the silverware to a sharp shine. Beth picked up a soft cloth and joined in. "Don't you get tired of all the rain?" She asked, I was hoping to take a walk in Larbert Woods later."
"Well, don't let a little water stop you,"Mandy smiled."Round here we'd never go anywhere if we bothered about the rain."
"You're right, Mandy. I need to toughen up a bit. I'll just take my brolly."
******
She enjoyed the solitude as she walked. Sharing a flat often necessitated going for a walk in order to have a quiet time. She prayed as she crunched through fallen leaves. She prayed that she'd find what she was looking for and she prayed for purpose. A bench invited her to sit a while and watch the children play beneath the trees.
Her illustrious ancestor had been born in Larbert. He'd lived here up until the age of ten, at which time, he and his family had emigrated to South Africa. Sir Alastair Arbuckle. In noble tradition, he'd become a wealthy farmer and landowner in his new home. Now, several generations later, Beth was piecing the Arbuckle family history together. Larbert had been the seat of the Arbuckle family, that much she knew. But could that seat still be standing?
******
At lunch the following day, Beth helped her friend Mandy to serve a table of six. The three course meal included freshly caught trout and was rounded off with locally baked shortbread. Odd, thought Beth, how in far away South Africa, shortbread was something her family baked each Christmas. Once the diners had left, Beth was sent to the laundry for a fresh batch of perfectly ironed serviettes. Portraits, antiques and bookshelves lined the hallway where she walked. Beth had never been in this section of the mansion. She stopped before the largest portrait and gasped when she read the name: Sir Alastair Arbuckle! Her ancestor. She hurried back with her load, anxious to tell Mandy about her discovery.
"Fancy that!" Exclaimed Mandy, "so you're related to Sir Alastair? I thought you were an ordinary Arbuckle," she giggled. She took the serviettes from Beth and curtsied. "Where would you like tea served milady?"
"I'm afraid the title disappeared somewhere along the way," she laughed. "So it's just Beth Arbuckle, ordinary waitress at your service." She said, curtseying back.
******
Her shift was over, but Beth wanted to have another look at the portrait of Sir Alastair. How regal he looked, posing in front of Larbert House with his hunting dogs by his side. Beth found it hard to believe that she was related to this nobleman. Back home, Beth had studied in college to be a personal assistant. Serving and assisting people was what Beth liked doing best. As she walked back towards the restaurant and out through the wide front door, Beth felt God's peace fill her heart. She'd come all the way to Scotland and had found her famous ancestor, but most importantly, she'd found her purpose.
The End.
DISCLAIMER:
"A Scottish Seat" is a work of fiction. Although Larbert and Larbert Woods are real places in Scotland, the characters and restaurant are fictional. Any resemblance to real people is unintentional. This story was inspired by Arbuckle/Lawrence family history.
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