For a Father's Pride (29 page)

‘You’ve got Tobias’s money. I promised to give you something every month towards his upkeep, and I’ll be true to my word.’ Daisy snatched the bucket from her
sister.

‘Aye, and that will only be a flash in the pan. You’ll not be able to keep paying me when you’re married to that simpering Sam. Besides, it’s all going on Tobias: look
how hungry he always is. Clifford will soon realize money is coming in from somewhere, other than us making it.’

Daisy glanced at young Tobias. He looked healthier now, and there was spare meat on his bones and more colour in his cheeks. ‘You’ll not say anything to Clifford, will you, Kitty? He
can’t go back to treating the lad like a dog, once I’ve left. And you’ll make sure Tobias can sleep in my old room, not back under the table?’

‘I’ll not say anything, but you are simple in the head to be wasting your hard-earned brass on his bastard, because that’s what he is: a whore’s bastard with no
prospects, as you would say. Aye, he can sleep in your old room, but I expect under the table will be warmer in winter. At least he’d have the heat from the kitchen fire.’

Daisy knew her sister was right. The lad would never be accepted in society, but at least for a while she could see that he was fed. She skimmed the cream from the top of the milk and added it
to the rest of the cream, before screwing down the metal lid that held the wooden panels and handle. She hated this job. Sometimes the cream would quickly turn into butter, and sometimes it could
take up to an hour of turning the handle that rotated the wooden panels that battered the cream. Her arm would ache by the time it was made, and then she’d have to add salt to the separated
butter and pat it into usable blocks with the butter-pats. Never mind. After she’d done this job, she was going to see Luke with the lemon cheese and, hopefully, some butter to sell him.

Kitty’s words rang in her ears as she turned the handle of the butter churn. The truth hurt, but Kitty was right: the Mattinson brothers hadn’t written to her since she had left
– she had just been another worker to them. And yet she was sure Jim had thought something of her. She was just a bad judge of men – that was the top and bottom of it – and she
only hoped she’d got it right with Sam.

The summer months were flying by. Daisy had never known the year pass so quickly. It had been a glorious summer, the sun had shone and she had been so busy. The house at Mill
Race was now nearly ready to be moved into. The only room that had not been touched was Daisy’s original bedroom, and she had not plucked up the courage to open the door and walk into what
had been her jail for the term of her pregnancy. Today she stood on the landing with her hand on the door knob, willing herself to open the door. Today was the day she would step back into her
bedroom.

‘Hello, hello, anybody here?’ A voice drifted up the stairs, just as Daisy was about to turn the door knob and enter.

She breathed a sigh of relief. She knew it was stupid, but she felt that once she opened that door, it would be like opening Pandora’s box and all the evils of the world would come
spilling out.

‘I’m here – coming,’ shouted Daisy, recognizing Sam’s voice. She looked back at the door and then lifted up her skirts, before running down the stairs to Sam, who
stood looking around the spotless kitchen.

‘By heck, lass, this spot gets better every time I come. You couldn’t live in a bonnier place. You’ve tidied the garden and all. I’m glad you’ve kept that old
rambling rose around the door – it smells so bonny.’

‘I’m shattered, Sam. I’m working here and working at Grouse Hall, and making your father various preserves. I’ve never been so busy in my whole life.’ Daisy sat
down in her father’s old chair.

‘Well today, my girl, make it a day off, because you’re coming with me.’ Sam grinned.

‘No, I can’t, really I can’t. I haven’t got time. I’ve got to tackle my old bedroom – it’s the last room to be done, and then I can move in before the
autumn. And, once that’s sorted, I won’t have much else to do.’

‘I’m not taking “no” for an answer. I’ve to take this lemon cheese and bramble jelly to my father – he’s got a stand at the Moorcock Show. So it’s
time you had a day off, for you’ve never stopped. Besides, I’ve some business to do there.’ Sam picked up the jars full of preserve and put them into his basket, which was
emblazoned with the name ‘Luke Allen’ on it. ‘Come on, get your hat on and lock that door. We’re off and no, I won’t let you stay here.’ Sam patted her bottom
affectionately while Daisy tried to protest. ‘Call it customer relations, because my father will be showing you off to everyone. He’s over the moon with his sales.’

‘But I’ve so . . .’ Daisy didn’t want to go, for she knew all the locals from the surrounding Dales would be there.

‘Get a move on. I’ll be waiting in the trap. I’ll treat you to a ride in the swing-boats.’ Sam giggled like a small child.

‘We are too old for the swing-boats – they are for children.’ Daisy shook her head.

‘You’re never too old. I go on them every year.’

‘Oh! So I’m not the first woman you’ve led astray on the swing-boats.’ Daisy picked up her straw boater from the hat stand and secured it with a hat pin, while viewing
herself in the coat-stand mirror and smiling at Sam’s shocked face.

‘I go on them with my mates. I’ve never been on with a woman.’

‘Go on then. I suppose there will be plenty of wet days to tidy my bedroom out. I didn’t want to do it anyway.’ Daisy just hoped there would be nobody at the show from the
farms around Gearstones Lodge. They were bound to recognize her – she hadn’t changed that much. But, it was a day out with Sam, whom she now knew that she loved. Everything would be all
right if she was with Sam Allen.

The road up to the Moorcock Show was busy with farmers and their wives herding sheep and carrying wares to sell, and with couples and children eager to get to the big
show-field set in the bottom of Garsdale valley. It was the end of summer and almost the beginning of autumn, and it was time for Dales folk to show off their best sheep and sell surplus produce to
add to their meagre living.

Sam waved and talked to nearly everyone they met. They all knew Sam Allen, for his father owned the main grocery shop in Hawes and was one to count as a friend. The men tipped their caps and
bowlers, while the women looked at Daisy by his side and either smiled weakly or whispered behind gloved hands.

‘Come on, lass, let’s get this to Father and then we can have a look around. My mother’s come to help, so I can have an hour or two off.’ Sam climbed down from the trap
and walked with the horse, guiding it through the crowds while Daisy held onto the basket of produce.

‘Am I glad to see thee. I’m nearly out of bramble jelly, and my bread’s almost all sold. I suppose when it’s gone, it’s gone, but I could do with another few loaves
– nowt like making money when the sun’s shining.’ Luke wiped his brow as some more coins jingled into his hand.

‘You want nothing with more bread – we’ve enough here. You don’t half panic, Luke, just calm down. Hello, Daisy. Your lemon cheese, jam and jelly are selling well –
we’ll be needing more before the end of the week.’ Mary smiled at Daisy, before serving the customers bustling around their stall.

‘I’m going to tether the horse up, and then Mary and I are going to have a wander around. Is that all right, Father?’ Sam looked back at Daisy, whose gaze was wandering. She
was taking in all the people gathered at the show, along with the smells of cooking and the shouts of the stallholders, mixed with the bleats of the sheep being shown.

‘Aye. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do – that means tha can do owt tha likes.’ Luke belly-laughed as Mary scolded him.

Sam put his arm through Daisy’s and they meandered past the long skirts of farmers’ wives and children running along with their fraught fathers. Daisy felt as if all eyes were on
her, and that she was being talked about. Yet she knew it was her own mind playing tricks.

Sam leaned over a pen of Swaledale sheep and pretended to be judging them, until the dancing bear with its owner caught his eye and he dragged Daisy by the hand, to watch the poor creature doing
its trick for the awestruck crowd. The bear teetered on a red drum and was made to stand on one leg, as the crowd clapped and applauded. Its eyes were full of fear and pain, and it was made to clap
its paws together in recognition of the crowd.

‘I don’t like this, Sam. The poor creature’s being whipped and prodded. Look at the heavy chain and muzzle on its mouth.’

‘It’s better having the muzzle on than taking a chunk out of us.’ Sam smiled at Daisy.

‘It would be better freed and taken back to the wild, where it came from.’ Daisy closed her eyes as some children threw a stone at the poor creature, obviously leaving it in
pain.

‘Come on, Daisy, I’ll take you to the swing-boats. The bear will be all right – it gets a rest between shows, I’m sure.’ Sam pulled her through the crowds until
they came to the bright-red swing-boats. ‘Here, mister, there’s two of us.’ He pulled out some coins and gave them to the man in charge of the swing-boats, before climbing into
the bottom of the wooden gondola, holding onto the rope that made it swing as he helped Daisy into the other side of the boat. ‘Here, Daisy, pull at the opposite time to me, and then
we’ll see how high we can go.’

The man in charge of the swings gave them a push and then they were off. The iron rods that held the boat in place groaned as the couple laughed and pulled on the rope, making the swing-boat go
higher and higher in the air. ‘Stop it, Sam, stop it! I’m worn out, I can’t get my breath.’ Daisy squealed as the boat lurched downwards again, and Sam grinned at her from
high above. She really hadn’t wanted to go on the swing-boats, but she had enjoyed every minute on the fair ride.

‘All right, Daisy, we’ll stop now.’ Sam slowed his pulling on the rope and, with shaky legs, they both climbed out.

‘I’d better put my hat on straight. I bet I look a right mess.’ Daisy straightened her skirts and tucked a piece of stray hair back underneath her boater.

‘You never look a mess to me, Daisy – you are always perfect to me.’ Sam squeezed her hand. ‘Come and sit down by the beck with me; let’s have a bit of quiet time
together.’ His face looked serious as he held her hand tightly. They walked through the crowds to the edge of the field where the beck ran. There he took his jacket off and laid it on the dry
grass of late summer. Both sat quietly, listening to the bubbling of the beck and the distant sounds of the fair.

‘Daisy, since early spring I’ve begun to think more and more of you.’ Sam held her hand. ‘I’ve never felt like this before. My mother was right: this is serious,
for me anyway. What I’m trying to say . . .’ Sam put his fingers into his shirt pocket and pulled out a box. ‘What I’m trying to say, Daisy, is: will you marry me?’
Inside the box a delicate diamond engagement ring shone and glittered in the sunshine.

Daisy gazed in disbelief. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it, but it still came as a shock. And she knew her feelings for Sam were growing every day. Her heart
missed a beat when he flashed his cheeky grin her way, and when his hand touched hers, it felt like being hit by a lightning bolt. She knew she loved him, but dare she marry him? It felt too good
to be true. He was everything she had ever wanted, everything Bob had never been. Her eyes filled with tears.

‘Daisy, say yes; come on, say yes. I’ve plenty of money, and the business will be mine after my father’s day. I’m a good catch.’ Sam’s hand began to shake, as
the ring within the box was not taken.

‘Oh, Sam, I’m frightened. You don’t really know me; there are things . . .’ Daisy looked at him. She loved the lad – she couldn’t say no.

‘Will you be quiet. I’ve heard all the talk and I’m not bothered. I know you, and I want you to be my wife. Besides, what’s my father going to do when he runs out of
lemon cheese? He’s cancelled his order with Mattinson’s. Say yes, Daisy. I love you, and you know it.’ Sam held out the ring, waiting for Daisy to slip it on her finger.

Through tear-filled eyes she nodded her head and held her shaking finger out. ‘I love you too, Sam. I just hope you don’t live to regret marrying me.’

‘And why in the world would I ever regret marrying you. I know exactly what I’m getting: a grand Yorkshire lass, who’s a better cook than my father. I win all round.’

Daisy smiled and gazed at the sparkling ring.

‘I love you,’ cried Sam, putting his arms around her and squeezing her tightly, before kissing her passionately on the lips, then on her neck and down to her breasts. ‘I love
you, Daisy, and I’ll always be there for you.’

‘I love you too, Sam. I’ll not let you down.’ She raised his head gently to look into his eyes. ‘My mother always said we’d be a good match, but I never listened
– that was before I knew you. But she was right for once, and you are everything I’ve ever wanted.’ She kissed the smiling Sam and lay down by his side on his jacket.

Sam ran his hand up the inside of Daisy’s leg, battling with her layers of skirt and petticoats while kissing her passionately. He placed his leg over her and whispered into her ear,
‘Go on, Daisy, let me, you know you want to. And now we are engaged, it’s all right.’

Daisy wanted to cry. She wanted to feel him within her, but her head was saying no. A ring meant nothing until you were married, but, God – she’d waited so long for Sam and her to be
like this.

‘Go on, Daisy.’ Sam had his hands in her drawers, and every inch of her body was saying,
Please me – please me in a way I’ve never been pleased before
.

She nodded. She couldn’t resist, and tears filled her eyes as Sam entered her, passionately stroking her hair, her face and her most intimate parts. So this was what proper sex and love
were – not rough and hateful, but sensuous and pleasurable. The couple entwined their bodies, forgetting the fair and the people gathered there, enjoying the pleasure of one another until
they were exhausted.

‘I love you, Daisy. I just want to say that to you all the time – I can’t help myself.’ Sam lay on his back with Daisy next to him.