The Best of Daughters (22 page)

She found her sleeping soundly, looking very small and almost child-like with her pale face and mouse-brown hair spilling over the white pillowcase. Daisy leaned over to tuck her in. Ruby was tough, but Daisy could only imagine what it must be like to suffer a miscarriage, and it wrung her heart to even contemplate such a terrible loss. ‘Sleep tight, Ruby.' She left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

In the kitchen the detritus left after the preparation and consumption of dinner was still waiting for her. Beatrice obviously had no intention of helping out and for that Daisy was grateful. She put her pinafore on and set about clearing up the kitchen and washing the dishes in the scullery. She found the dull routine oddly comforting and it took her almost an hour to have everything sparkling clean and the crockery stowed in its place. She rewarded herself with another cup of hot sweet tea, but she had no appetite for the plate of food
that Iris had left for her, and she tipped it into the bin reserved for scraps which would eventually be fed to the Gurneys' pigs. She took a seat at the table and sipped her tea, but a quick glance at the clock revealed that it was almost half past eleven. She knew that she would not be able to sleep until she had committed the sad little cardboard box to the ground. She was trying to gather the courage to get up and go out into the darkness when the door opened and Teddy breezed into the kitchen. He stopped short when he saw her, his jaw dropping comically. He gaped at her apron and her reddened hands. ‘What on earth are you doing in here this late at night?'

‘I might ask the same of you,' Daisy said sharply.

‘I – er – I was looking for Iris.'

‘Were you now? Why doesn't that surprise me?'

‘Don't take that tone with me, Daisy. I'm your elder brother, and don't you forget it.'

‘As if I could. You've reminded me of it enough times in the past. Anyway, I told Iris she could leave early as it's Christmas Eve. She wanted to go to midnight mass . . .' She broke off, staring at him. ‘That wasn't true, was it? She was going to meet you.'

‘That's my business.' Teddy's face flushed dark red and he scowled at her. ‘It's between me and Iris. I can see her if I want to. There's no law against it.'

Daisy rose to her feet. ‘But Jed Smith will think differently. You had a narrow escape on the night of the village dance, Teddy. Surely you don't want to end up with your good looks spoilt by a black eye or worse. She's his lady friend after all.'

‘She likes me and I like her. He doesn't own her.'

Daisy was too tired to argue. ‘Suit yourself, Teddy. But don't say I didn't warn you.'

‘I'm going out.' He turned on his heel and was about to leave the room when he paused, glancing over his shoulder. ‘You'll keep quiet about this, won't you, old thing?'

‘Of course I will,' Daisy said with a reluctant smile. ‘But please be careful, and don't let her run away with the idea that this is anything other than a bit of fun.'

His face fell. ‘Oh Lord, you don't think she hears wedding bells, do you?'

‘I don't know, but it's not fair to lead her on.'

‘You certainly know how to make a fellow feel like a toe-rag. Perhaps I'll give it a miss tonight after all.'

‘And leave her waiting for you out in the cold? Don't be a coward, Teddy. You have to let her down easily.'

‘Women,' Teddy said with feeling. He left without another word, closing the door behind him with unnecessary violence.

Daisy sighed, shaking her head. She could foresee Teddy's affair with Iris ending badly and even if Jed did not beat him to a pulp, he would have to answer to their father for his misdeeds. She took her old coat from its peg in the scullery and shrugged it on. The threat of snow had abated but there was a bitter chill in the air when she stepped outside into the yard, but she had one last duty to perform before she could go to bed.

With only the sound of the wind soughing sadly in the tree tops and the occasional shriek of a barn owl
hunting its prey, she buried the tiny cardboard coffin deep in the rose bed and said a prayer before filling in the grave. ‘Sleep well, little one,' she murmured and her hot tears fell on the cold earth.

A hard frost during the night had turned the grounds of Pendleton Park into a fairytale landscape, sparkling in the feeble rays of a wintry sun. Parkin drove slowly, allowing the family time to absorb the grandeur of the scene, and even Beatrice was silent during the short drive to the great house. Daisy could appreciate the view but she was still shaken by the events of the past evening.

She had risen early in order to check on Ruby, and had found her attempting to dress herself but with little success. Having persuaded her to go back to bed, Daisy went downstairs. She had given Iris the day off and with Ruby unfit for work it fell to her to get the fire going and prepare breakfast for the family. She attended to Ruby first, filling a hot water bottle and carrying a tray of tea and toast up to the top of the house. Ruby was propped up against the pillows, pale and subdued but resolute in her determination to carry on as normal when she had recovered her strength. Daisy could only admire her bravery. She doubted whether she would be able to behave with such fortitude in similar circumstances. Although Ruby assured her that she would rather be left alone to rest, Daisy was unhappy about leaving her for any length of time, but she had no choice. Even now she wondered if she had done the right thing.

She turned with a start as Beatrice nudged her in the ribs. ‘You haven't been listening to a thing I said, Daisy.'

‘Sorry, I was miles away.'

‘That's obvious. I was just saying that I wish all this was going to be mine one day. You're a lucky cat.'

Gwendoline tut-tutted. ‘That's enough, girls. We're here, so don't you dare disgrace me by squabbling.' She turned her head to peer out of the rear window. ‘Your father and Teddy have just pulled up behind us. Thank goodness the motorcar is working properly again.'

‘Thanks to Ruby's boyfriend,' Beatrice murmured, winking at her sister.

‘Shut up, Bea. That's not funny.' Daisy climbed out of the Rolls and stood on the gravelled carriage sweep waiting for her mother and Beatrice to join her. The Humberette drew up and Victor proffered his arm to his wife, leading the family up to the imposing front entrance.

‘It always reminds me of Dracula's castle,' Bea whispered, giggling.

‘Be quiet, Beatrice.' Gwendoline shot her an angry glance as Victor tugged on the bell.

Almost immediately, the door opened and they were greeted by Warrington who ushered them into the great hall where Rupert was waiting to receive them. He had abandoned his uniform for a more casual tweed suit but he still looked dashing and almost too handsome for a mere mortal. His beaming smile encompassed the whole family as he welcomed them
to his home, and his blue eyes darkened with pleasure when he saw Daisy. She handed her fur coat to a waiting maidservant.

‘You look absolutely splendid, my darling,' Rupert said softly. ‘Merry Christmas, Daisy.' He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. ‘If you would all like to follow us, we'll go to the long gallery and I'll introduce you to the members of my family who quite regularly descend upon us like one of the plagues of Egypt.' He smiled at Daisy, adding in a whisper, ‘God help you all. It's like the Chamber of Horrors in Madame Tussaud's.'

She stifled a giggle. ‘Don't be mean, Rupert. I'm sure they're perfectly nice, ordinary people.'

‘I'd reserve judgement if I were you, Daisy Bell.'

They ascended the grand staircase to the first floor with its wide corridors hung with old masters and furnished with heavily carved Jacobean chests and monks' benches. She could hear Beatrice chattering to Teddy as they followed them up a second flight of stairs to the top floor of the house, most of which was occupied by the long gallery. They were met by a buzz of conversation and the resinous aroma of pine logs blazing up the chimneys in the fireplaces at each end of the oak-panelled room. The floorboards shone with the patina of centuries of wear and the application of beeswax and elbow grease by a succession of dedicated housemaids.

Heads turned to look at the new arrivals and Daisy could feel herself being closely scrutinised by young and old alike. Lady Pendleton rose from a throne-like
seat and glided across the floor to greet them. Lord Pendleton broke away from a group of gentlemen and joined her to exchange the compliments of the season, after which he wandered back to continue the conversation with his contemporaries. It was left to Rupert to introduce the Lennox family to the gathering.

Daisy had met some of the aunts, uncles and cousins in London, but as Rupert said when they snatched a few moments of relative privacy at the far end of the gallery, relations crawled out of the woodwork at this time of the year, eager to partake of free food and drink, and then disappeared again until the next festive season, family wedding or christening. As far as Daisy could see there did appear to be a hard core of portly gentlemen and their ladies who imbibed as much as they could before luncheon but contributed little to the general atmosphere of goodwill, and were less than effusive in their congratulations when she was introduced to them as Rupert's fiancée. His explanation for their reticence centred on the fact that these distant relatives were in line of succession to the title and estate, but their chances of inheriting anything would diminish significantly when he married and produced a son or sons. Rupert seemed to find it amusing but Daisy thought it somewhat sinister. She saw them darkly, like carrion crows hovering and waiting for something dire to befall Rupert in order to bring them closer to inheriting something they had done nothing to earn or even deserve.

It was a relief when at last luncheon was announced and everyone trooped downstairs to the dining room.
Daisy was surprised to see that Iris was on duty but it was not her business to ask why, although she was quick to notice that Teddy made a point of speaking to her whenever the opportunity arose. She could tell by the looks that Lady Pendleton was giving him that she disapproved of the familiarity between the two of them, and she made up her mind to warn her brother yet again that such conduct was unacceptable. She could only hope that their mother had not seen anything untoward, but Gwendoline seemed to be conversing happily with Rupert's Uncle Joshua, who quite obviously had an eye for the ladies. He was leaning unnecessarily close to her, twirling his mustachios like a villain from the silent screen, and her mother seemed to be revelling in his attentions.

Daisy was relieved to note that her father did not appear to have noticed. He was chatting amicably to the Dowager Lady Pendleton, who was eighty-nine and affected to be slightly deaf but somehow managed to hear the softest whisper if it happened to relate to herself or any of her close family. Daisy was a little afraid of the redoubtable old lady, but Rupert assured her that his grandmother was a darling despite her caustic tongue and acerbic wit.

After luncheon the party seemed to fragment. The elder family members opted to sit in the library and drink port or nap by the fire, and Lady Pendleton invited Gwendoline and some of the other ladies to retire to the crimson and gold saloon for a game of whist. Rupert marshalled the younger family members together and suggested a brisk walk in the grounds to
brush away the cobwebs. Warrington sent a maid for the guests' outer garments and soon they were strolling across the deer park, breathing in the ice-cold air and enjoying the soft kiss of the winter sunshine. Rupert and Daisy walked on ahead of the others, and he held her hand in a firm grasp. He stopped beneath an ancient oak tree, gazing up into the gnarled bare branches. ‘Do you remember this, Daisy Bell?'

‘Of course I do. You leapt upon us from a great height and frightened me half to death.'

‘I was a little beast then. I apologise.'

She squeezed his fingers. ‘No you weren't. You were a high-spirited boy and we were just children. Although Bea had nightmares about it for weeks afterwards.'

He glanced over his shoulder. ‘She seems to have recovered now.'

Following his gaze, Daisy saw her sister flirting outrageously with one of Rupert's younger cousins. ‘She does seem to have taken a shine to Sebastian. Jimmy Gurney would be furious if he could see them now.'

‘The farmer's son from Long Wheatley?'

‘That's right. Bea told me only yesterday that they were stepping out together. Her words, not mine.' She tightened her hold on his arm and they walked on, distancing themselves from the rest of the noisy party. ‘She's much too young to think of such things.'

‘But we're not, darling.' Rupert drew her to a halt as they reached the edge of the spinney. ‘Why don't we name the day? Who knows what's going to happen in the next few months. If there's a war I'll be the first
to be sent into active service. I want to go away safe in the knowledge that you'll be looked after should anything happen to me.'

She shivered as icy fingers clutched at her heart. ‘Don't say things like that. You make it sound as though war is inevitable.'

‘I'm afraid it is, although of course I hope I'm wrong, but we can all see it coming. What do you say, Daisy? Why wait? Let's get married as soon as possible.'

It would be so easy to fall in with his wishes, but she was taken off guard. ‘This is a bit sudden, Rupert. You can't expect me to give you an answer right away.'

He frowned. ‘Why not? We're engaged. You've said you love me and want to be my wife. Why wait?'

‘Because there are other people involved. There are your parents and mine. Getting married is a huge step and it needs planning.'

‘Then we'll elope to Gretna Green.' He chuckled and bent down to place a kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘I'm joking, of course. But seriously, darling, I want to name the day, even if it's in the middle of next summer or early autumn. You'll want a wedding dress and trousseau designed in Paris, and all the things that girls love to have before they tie the knot, but all I want is you. If and when I go to war I want to have someone waiting for me on my return. Is that too much to ask, darling Daisy?'