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Authors: Dilly Court

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BOOK: The Best of Daughters
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‘And who said that? It was very rude as well as unkind.'

Daisy shrugged her shoulders. ‘It was just the mechanic who's fixing Father's motor. No one of consequence.'

‘If you mean Barnaby Bowman then I should warn you that he's got quite a reputation with the ladies.'

‘He won't get anywhere with me.'

‘My dear, I wasn't suggesting anything of the sort. No, I meant your maid. He's broken a few hearts around here, so she'd better be wary of his charming manner.'

‘I think I can keep him in his place.'

‘I should hope so, Daisy.' Lady Pendleton glanced out of the window. ‘Ah, here's Parkin. I told him to pick me up at five. May we give you a lift home? It's on the way.'

Daisy was about to thank her politely and say she wanted to walk, but she saw Jed striding purposefully in her direction. ‘Thank you. That would be most kind, my lady.'

‘I think we've known each other long enough for you to call me by my Christian name. After all I am your godmother, and maybe one day . . .' Lady Pendleton left the sentence hanging in mid-air.

Daisy felt twelve years old again and suddenly shy. ‘Oh, I couldn't. I mean, it doesn't seem right somehow.'

‘We've left Victorian starchiness behind, my dear. I'm a modern woman, and although I don't openly support the suffragists, I'm with them in my heart.'

‘You are? I thought you would think badly of me for my involvement with the WSPU. Not that I've had a chance to do anything useful since we moved here.'

‘Well, I wouldn't approve of you throwing yourself under a horse's hooves like that heroic woman, Emily Davison, but I think peaceful protest will win the day in the end.' Lady Pendleton tapped on the window and beckoned to her chauffeur. ‘Parkin will carry the baskets,' she said as Daisy attempted to lift one of them. ‘They're much too heavy for a girl like you.'

Parkin dropped Daisy at the garden gate. She went inside the house and was immediately accosted by her sister. ‘Darling Daisy, my most favourite person in the whole world.'

Daisy hid a smile. ‘What do you want, Bea?'

‘Jimmy has asked me to go to the dance with him and I haven't anything to wear. Could I borrow your pink tussore with the blue satin sash and would you put my hair up for me?'

‘Have you asked Mother if you can go?'

Bea's face fell. ‘I was hoping you'd do it for me. She's got one of her heads.'

‘I know. That's why I did the church bazaar for her. But actually I quite enjoyed helping Lady Pendleton on the cake stall. She was so sweet to me, and guess what?'

‘I haven't a clue.'

‘She only asked me to call her Jane. Can you imagine that?'

‘Honestly? No.' Beatrice stared at her in amazement. ‘I don't think Mother would approve. But never mind that. Will you put in a word for me? And if she allows me to go to the dance, may I borrow your gown? And your pink satin dancing shoes?'

‘I suppose you'll pester me until I do.'

‘Yes. Absolutely.'

‘Then leave it to me. I can't promise anything, but I'll try.'

After dinner that evening, Daisy, Beatrice and Ruby set off for the village hall, escorted by a rather unwilling and grumpy Teddy, who had been dragooned into accompanying them by their mother. He chain-smoked all the way to the village, complaining bitterly that he was a hard-working man who wanted a bit of peace and quiet at the end of the day. ‘I never used to work on Saturday afternoons when we had our offices in the City,' he said, stopping to light yet another cigarette from the stub of the old one. ‘We used to leave it to Jeremiah and his minions to stay there until evening.'

‘Which is probably why you lost the business,' Beatrice said, dancing on ahead. ‘Hurry up and stop moaning, Teddy. You'll enjoy yourself when you get there.'

‘I don't mix with the peasants,' he muttered beneath his breath. ‘The village girls are probably fat and homely.'

Daisy slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.
‘Don't be such a pessimist, Teddy. I saw some of the local girls today and although they weren't very friendly, they were very pretty. You might be pleasantly surprised.'

Teddy tossed his cigarette onto the gravel as they came to a halt outside the village hall. ‘Here we go. It's a far, far better thing I do . . .'

‘Shut up and open the door like a gentleman,' Beatrice said, hopping up and down with excitement. ‘This is my first grown-up do, and if you spoil it I'll make your life hell, Edward Lennox. And I can do it, so don't glare at me like that.'

They entered the village hall, which had been transformed in a short space of time with Chinese lanterns hanging from the rafters and strategically placed swags of greenery. The vicar's wife was playing the tinny old piano accompanied by her only daughter, Cissie, on the violin. Daisy decided that Cissie could do with a few more lessons, but the music was jolly and there were several couples already on the dance floor performing something energetic.

Teddy was about to turn on his heel and leave when he caught sight of Iris and Flossie. They seemed to have been abandoned by the Smith brothers, who had joined the men at the refreshment table. Iris turned her head to give him an appraising look, and apparently liking what she saw gave him a dazzling smile. Seemingly drawn together by some invisible magnetic force, they walked slowly across the floor to meet each other.

‘Good gracious,' Beatrice said in a fair imitation of
their mother's voice. ‘Love at first sight.' She stood on tiptoe and waved. ‘Cooee. Jimmy.' Apparently forgetting that she was supposed to be a young lady, she picked up her skirts and ran towards him, leaving Daisy and Ruby standing by the door.

‘Since none of these gents are going to ask us,' Ruby said, grinning, ‘can I get you something to drink, miss?'

‘I'm tired of telling you that it's Daisy when my mother is out of earshot, and I'd love some fruit cup or whatever's going.'

‘Right you are then, Daisy.' Ruby sashayed off, leaving Daisy on her own and feeling distinctly out of place in her elegant silk gown. The young men were clustered around the table where beer was being served from a keg, and they were eyeing her up and down in a way that made her feel like a prize heifer at a cattle market. The girls who were sitting this dance out were also staring at her with a mixture of envy and hostility written on their solemn faces. Perhaps this had been a terrible mistake. She was beginning to regret the impulse that had led her to brave the unknown. She had never been to any kind of social function without a partner or a chaperone, and she wished she had stayed at home. She moved aside instinctively as the door opened.

‘So you decided to come after all, Daisy.'

Chapter Seven

‘GOOD EVENING,' DAISY
said coolly. She turned to face Bowman, hoping that he had not noticed the colour that suffused her cheeks, or the way her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. Spruced up and smiling, he might have stepped from the pages of a romantic novel. She tried to convince herself that he would have been the villain of the piece, but if anything the hint of danger made him even more attractive. A tantalising glimpse of his chest was revealed by a white shirt open at the neck, and his slim hips were accentuated by tight-fitting black trousers, quite different from the baggy overalls he wore for work. His appearance was strikingly at odds with the rest of the young men, who looked slightly uncomfortable in their Sunday best suits. She swallowed hard and was about to reprimand him for the use of her Christian name when he forestalled her by proffering his arm.

‘Would you like to dance?'

‘I – er – not really. Ruby is fetching me a drink.'

‘You did come here to enjoy yourself, didn't you?'

‘I'm not sure that dancing with you would be the answer, Mr Bowman.'

‘Surely you can't resist the Turkey Trot, even though it's being murdered by Mrs Sellars and young Cissie.'
His eyes twinkled mischievously, and he took her by the hand. ‘Let's show them how it's done.'

More accustomed to a sedate waltz or even a one-step, Daisy experienced a feeling of panic. Everyone was looking at them and she could see Teddy glaring at her from across the hall. ‘I don't know how to do it,' she murmured.

‘It's easy when you get into the swing of it.'

There was no escape. If she walked off the dance floor she would make a fool of him, and if she stayed she was in danger of making a fool of herself. But when he took her in his arms she felt suddenly as light as air. Mrs Sellars, the vicar's wife, was not the best pianist in the world and her daughter Cissie occasionally missed a beat as she scraped away on her violin, but the ragtime music was infectious and soon everyone was joining in. As the floor became more crowded Daisy began to relax, and to her surprise she discovered that she was genuinely having a good time. Bowman was a natural dancer. He moved with the grace of a panther and he made her feel as though she was the only woman in the room. She was almost sorry when the music stopped and he led her over to where Ruby was standing with two glasses of fruit punch in her hands. She handed one to Daisy with a disapproving frown. ‘You look as though you need this.'

Daisy took it from her with a breathless smile. ‘Thank you.' She drank deeply. It was lemony and sweet with slices of apple floating on the top, but it was refreshing. There did not seem to be any alcohol content, which was just as well as Daisy could see her
sister downing a glass as if it were tap water. She turned to Bowman and was about to thank him politely, but he was staring at Ruby with an appreciative gleam in his eyes. He reached out and took the glass from Ruby's hand, raising it to his lips and tossing it back in one gulp.

‘I needed that.' He placed the glass on the windowsill. ‘How about a dance, Ruby?'

Her face was suddenly wreathed in smiles and she walked into his arms. ‘It's a waltz. I ain't too good at this one, Barnaby.'

In answer, he whirled her onto the crowded dance floor.

Daisy stood motionless, clutching her empty glass in both hands. So he had just been playing a game and flirting with her. She could not believe that she had allowed a man like Bowman to treat her as if she were a common shop girl, and now he had abandoned her to work his charms on another victim. She felt as though all eyes were upon her. Everyone must have noticed the way Bowman had used her to show off his prowess with women. How they would laugh at the posh Miss Lennox who had been passed over for someone who, to all intents and purposes, was her maidservant.

Daisy was tempted to slip out of the door and run all the way home, but pride made her stiffen her back and hold her head high. If only Rupert were here. He would look after her and treat her like a lady. Bowman had proved what he was, a philandering wretch who thought that he was God's gift to women. She spun round as someone tapped her on the arm and she came
face to face with Jed Smith. He was sweating profusely in an ill-fitting black suit which must have been bought when he was younger and slimmer. His bulging biceps strained at the wool worsted and his face was flushed above the starched white shirt collar.

‘Want to dance, miss?'

She tried not to wrinkle her nose as she caught a whiff of sweaty maleness, and she was about to refuse when she caught sight of Bowman and Ruby dancing cheek to cheek. ‘Thank you,' she said, casting a wary glance at Iris, the young woman he was alleged to be courting. ‘That would be nice, Mr Smith, but won't your lady friend mind?'

His sandy eyebrows lowered, almost meeting together above his large nose. ‘It looks as if Iris has taken a fancy to your brother, miss.' He grabbed her round the waist and seized her hand. ‘Seems like a fair swap.' He dragged her into the milling crowd of dancers and began pushing her round the floor, apologising profusely as he trod on her toes.

She bit her lip in order not to cry out with pain. Her cream satin dance shoes would be ruined, but she forced a smile. She would not let Bowman see that she was suffering or allow him to think that he was the only man in the hall who wanted her as a dance partner.

When the music stopped Jed mumbled his thanks and shambled off to join the men, who raised their pint mugs as if in a toast, slapping him on the back and roaring with laughter. The suspicion crossed Daisy's mind that he had only asked her to dance for a bet. She shifted from one foot to the other, wishing that she
had not agreed to come. Being stuck in a prison cell crowded with angry women was a picnic compared to the humiliation she was suffering now. She wanted to tell Teddy that she was leaving, but he seemed reluctant to disentangle himself from the arms of the luscious Iris, and Ruby was still clinging to Bowman's arm, gazing up at him as if he were her hero. This evening had been a huge mistake. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, and the combined odours of cheap perfume, sweat and beer were making her feel sick and dizzy. She opened the door and made her escape.

Outside the air was cool and fresh and fragrant with the aroma of damp earth and newly mown grass. Moonlight illuminated the forecourt of the village hall and stars twinkled in the black velvet sky. The tinkling sound of a nearby stream was far sweeter music than that played by Mrs Sellars and her untalented daughter. Daisy paused for a moment, taking deep breaths in an attempt to overcome the humiliation and anger that made her want to go back inside and tell Bowman what she thought of him. Hot tears burned the backs of her eyes and her throat constricted painfully. She must not cry. She had shed no tears when they lost their home and the way of life she had been brought up to expect. She had kept the family together during the past year, taking on tasks that were alien to her without complaint. But then she had allowed herself to be taken in by a man who was completely different from anyone she had ever known. She had succumbed to the animal attraction that exuded from every pore of his body. How he must be laughing now.

BOOK: The Best of Daughters
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