A Fragile Chain of Daisies: Flowers of the Aristocracy (Untamed Regency Book 4)

by Jackie Williams

  With the first course dishes removed, they prepared for a dinner of poached trout with a selection of vegetables and mashed potatoes. Armstrong looked on sourly as he took long strides around the enormous table to serve the food.

  “No cabbage?” The Duchess enquired sharply as she stared down at her plate, causing Armstrong to jump violently and drop the serving spoon back into the dish of buttery potatoes. A dollop of the mash leapt out and landed in a wine glass.

  Daisy lifted her napkin to her lips to hide her smile before raising her voice loudly enough to reach the opposite end of the table..

  “No, Jane. I did not ask my cook to prepare any. I am not fond of the vegetable and have expressly banished it from my menus.” She hadn’t, but her mother in law didn’t need to know that. She stabbed a floret of cauliflower.

  Lady Caruthers spoke up from halfway along the table.

  “Personally I prefer carrots.”

  The Duchess sniffed disdainfully as she prodded her fish.

  “Carrots are a most inferior vegetable, in my opinion. Lack the ability to hold gravy. A meal isn’t complete without a good rich gravy, don’t you think.? My own cook uses all the meat drippings.”

  Elizabeth stared down at her plate.

  “Er, with fish?” She was at a loss for words.

  Daisy wasn’t nearly so reticent.

  “I’ll confess that I have never been fond of a meat gravy with fish. I find that the flavours don’t mix well.” Daisy’s gaze caught her mother’s rolling eyes and she tried not to laugh. “In my opinion,” she added.

  “Well, obviously I didn’t mean with fish. That would be absurd.” The Dowager snapped back.

  Armstrong replaced the mash smeared glass and walked back along the table to present the wine. Daisy shook her head as he went to pour.

  “Thank you, but no. I have had a severe headache for most of the afternoon and I don’t want it to return, but by all means...” She waved her hand down the table towards her guests.

  The Duchess waited impatiently while Armstrong made his way back down the dining room. Glass filled, she sipped the wine, smacked her lips approvingly, and drank deeply.

  “At least my son kept a decent wine cellar. I hope you mean to keep it up, Daisy.” She didn’t wait for an answer but motioned for Armstrong to refill her glass while lifting her chin towards her companion. “So many dinners are spoiled by dreadful wine, don’t you find, Elizabeth?”

  Elizabeth waited until Armstrong strode to her and poured the pale vintage. She took a sip and smiled and nodded at the footman before raising her glass to the woman sitting several yards away.

  “Yes Jane, but as you so correctly point out, this has an excellent flavour. Perfect with the fish.”

  The Duchess emptied her glass for a second time and poked the trout with her fork again.

  “It is a pity that they have bones. One could so easily get one stuck down one’s throat. Doesn’t happen with jellied pork.” She glanced up and waved her napkin at Armstrong who now stood at the sideboard uncorking a second bottle of wine. “Would you fetch me some bread.”

  The man gave a swift nod and all but sprinted from the room. Only broken by the sound of scraping cutlery, silence descended until the door opened once again.

  Daisy glanced up as a dishevelled looking Pierce entered briskly, and immediately tripped over the edge of the carpet.

  “Bloody hell! That’s all I need.” He exclaimed as several of the rolls spilled out of the basket he carried and bounced across the floor.

  He had spent an exhausting afternoon tracking down his old bear. Jane Benedict had been long gone by the time they emerged from the wardrobe, but Pierce had guessed that she wouldn’t have carried it far. And he was right. As Daisy turned back towards the main staircase to go in search of her cook, he had walked in the opposite direction.

  The housekeeper and three maids scurried from one room to another, arms filled with dirty linen, clean linen, dusters, buckets filled with water, and long handled mops. It took him a few minutes to discover what the Dowager had done with the bear, but one maid was more helpful than the other. She had seen the bear dropped from her ladyships fingertips into the third maid’s cleaning pail, with express instructions for it to be destroyed forthwith. But the maid in question was not on her way back to the servants’ quarters. She had other chores to attend to and Pierce had spent longer than he wanted following her from room to room over the giant house, waiting for his opportunity to snatch the toy back, while trying to keep out of the Dowager’s sight.

  An exercise which proved to be more difficult than he had supposed. Five times he’d had to dodge into doorways, narrowly avoiding either the Dowager or Lady Caruthers. The pair were all over the place, though Lady Caruthers only seemed intent on finding her daughter, whereas, amid gasps of horror at what she saw, the Dowager examined every room far more minutely than expected.

  Lady Caruthers soon had enough of the task. The journey from London had tired her. She asked a passing maid where she might find any suitable room, and bade her friend farewell for the afternoon, but the Dowager seemed unwilling to do the same. It took Pierce some time to realize that the woman might be searching for more than somewhere to lay her head in perfect comfort for the night.

  Having overheard much of the conversation on the subject of any allowances in the drawing room that afternoon, for a long while Pierce thought she might be checking that Daisy hadn’t sold any of the splendid art that graced many of the walls. Or that she hadn’t decided to decorate other rooms in her own flamboyant style. Or perhaps the Dowager Duchess was eyeing up the good furniture before any new heir snaffled it away from her. But after hearing the woman’s disgruntled muttering after abandoning each room again, it soon became clear that this was a hunt for something more.

  After making sure that the maid was still occupied with her chores and unlikely to throw the bear into a pyre, instead of avoiding the Duchess, he had followed her. And when there was at last a room without its key still placed in the lock, was amazed at what he saw.

  On entering the chamber the Dowager had glanced about the room as if checking for servants before quickly shutting the door. Pierce, after peeking out from an alcove, slipped from his hiding place and bent to peer through the keyhole.

  The sight that met his eyes was the like of which he had never seen before. The woman conducted a search as thoroughly as any bloodhound he had ever seen rummaging for a downed bird in a thicket of hawthorn.

  On hands and knees she peered beneath the bed, then struggled back upright and rummaged through a chest of drawers. She stuck her nose around the wardrobe doors and lifted blankets from the ottoman, only to let out a small shriek when she came face to face with one of her son’s cases of exotic insects. Hastily throwing the blankets back over the distasteful specimen of a giant cockroach, she looked around the room once more.

  Her face became more and more flushed, her coiffeur more dishevelled, her language more florid. Then, in what appeared to be a final flash of inspiration, she stared hard at a picture on the wall before grasping the frame and sliding it down the wall to the floor. She took several seconds to turn the disgruntled looking gentleman in the picture to the wall, then examined the back of the picture. There was clearly nothing to find. The woman heaved a huge sigh before hefting the portrait back onto the wall.

  What is she hunting for? Pierce was plagued by the thought, but whatever it was, it didn’t appear to be in that bedroom, or any of those she had searched before.

  The hunt continued and the afternoon wore on, and though he was desperate to recover Daisy’s bear, the Duchess’ behaviour was so peculiar, it aroused his curiosity to the point where he couldn’t stop following her.

  In the rooms where a key had barred his view, he listened at the door. Muffled cries of fright led Pierce to believe that Portland’s ghastly, lifeless menagerie had spread to almost every room, but not even giant hairy spiders, foot wide furry moths, or the sight of arm thi
ck stuffed snakes seemed to deter the woman from her task.

  Pierce’s interest had grown by the minute as she ransacked each chamber. Why was she so determined to scrutinise every room in the place? She must have known them all in some detail since she once lived there, but as the hours passed and her frustration grew, it became apparent that the conclusion of her quest would remain unresolved.

  With his pursuit of the duchess, his chance to rescue Daisy’s bear hadn’t arisen until the by now exhausted Dowager had eventually picked an apparently satisfactory suite, and instead of looking under it, actually lay down on the bed, and immediately began to snore.

  Prepared to take a chance on the likelihood of the woman not stirring again before dinner, Pierce took off after the maid again, only to find, after a frantic search of the bedrooms, that she had obviously finished her chores. Fearing for the bear’s fate and Daisy’s subsequent distress, Pierce ran to rescue the stuffed animal before it was singed beyond repair.

  Taking the steps two at a time, he charged down the narrow servants’ stairs and breathed a sigh of relief as he caught up with the maid outside the laundry door. He spent the next ten minutes wondering how he could reclaim his old toy without raising any suspicions while commiserating with her on the afternoon’s extra work. Then he wasted another ten minutes, in the hopes of keeping in maid’s favour by giving an amusing recounting of the afternoon’s events. With animated arm and leg movements, he re-enacted the Duchess’ apparent search for spiders beneath the beds, silverfish in the drawers, and moths in the wardrobes.

  His efforts appeared to work. With the bear peeping out of her pail of cleaning gear on one arm, and dust sheets on the other, the maid had giggled and laughed at him before Pierce offered to take her equipment back to the scullery. Fluttering her eyelashes and smiling far more than necessary, the blushing maid at last took the bundle of dirty linen into the laundry leaving Pierce alone with his prize.

  But where to put the bear until he could return it to its owner? It wasn’t as if he could be seen carrying it about with him. With no other options immediately available, he stuffed the animal inside his already over-tight jacket, making it almost impossible for him to move or breathe properly. Ignoring the sound of tearing seams, he picked up the pail and headed for the scullery.

  Unsure as to whether he should simply walk in, he hesitated too long. A furious Armstrong caught him skulking outside the door. Acutely embarrassed, Pierce then had to stand biting his tongue and breathing shallowly, while the man eyed the cleaning basket suspiciously and gave his new footman a lecture on his expected duties rather than encouraging infatuated maids, and loitering in the corridors.

  Dinner had given Pierce a brief respite, and some time, but then there had been the nightmare of trying to return the bear into Daisy’s room unseen. Armstrong might be out of the way serving dinner, but Pierce still spent ten minutes dodging the housekeeper and the maids before he at last accomplished his task. It was a close call. He hardly had time to straighten his jacket, smooth his hair, and race back down to the servants hall before Armstrong was there, bellowing for bread to be taken to the dining room.

  “Phew! Nearly lost the lot there,” Pierce exclaimed as he recovered from his near fall and straightened himself. He kicked three errant rolls beneath the table before smiling at Daisy. “You called for bread, your Grace?” He stuck out his bottom lip and blew a lock of from over his eyes before proffering what remained of the bread to Daisy.

  Daisy blinked and somehow managed to contain her giggles. She lifted her chin towards the opposite end of the table.

  “The Duchess fears something will become lodged in her throat.”

  Pierce bowed low and whispered close to Daisy’s ear.

  “Like what? Your fist?” He grinned at her.

  Daisy covered a snort of laugher with a pretend sneeze.

  “No, you idiot. Fish bones.”

  “Ah, well we can’t have that. The old trout choking on an...” He glanced down at Daisy’s plate and chuckled. “An old trout!” He gave her a wink.

  Daisy sneezed several times again as the Dowager Duchess peered around the candelabras at her.

  “What’s going on? Do you have a cold, Daisy? Hmff! I suspected as much. Two windows in a bedroom cannot be good for one’s health. Terrible draft. Don’t know what you were thinking taking that room. Perhaps we should call the doctor.” The ‘old trout’s’ voice echoed through the room.

  Forcing the laughter back down, Daisy put her napkin in her lap and tried without much success, to steel her face. Thinking it just as well that the Duchess sat at the furthest end of the table, Daisy made her excuses.

  “No, indeed. Just a little too much pepper. Everard is bringing you the bread in case of any stray fish bones.”

  Pierce took the long walk to the other end of the dining room and bowed to the Dowager.

  “Fish bones. Most uncomfortable, your Grace. It certainly wouldn’t do for anyone to choke.” He smiled obsequiously at the Dowager Duchess.

  Daisy kept her eyes on her food. Was Pierce deliberately trying to call attention to himself? Probably not. The man just couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

  The Duchess frowned up at him.

  “You are awfully outspoken for a footman. Pray tell me, has not Armstrong yet advised you that speaking to one’s betters in such an offhand manner is strictly frowned upon.”

  Pierce stood straight and looked deeply affronted.

  “Really, your Grace? It was only an observation, but I do beg your pardon if my words were in any way offensive. Pray let me be plain and rephrase myself.” He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully before holding up a finger as if an idea had just struck him. Which it clearly had. “Perhaps this sounds better. I hope the bread helps you when you do choke.”

  The woman turned almost purple as, with a gloved hand, Pierce dumped a roll at the side of her plate. The Dowager finally took a deep breath.

  “Well really! My daughter in law has some strange ideas of progression in her staff.” The Dowager exclaimed and began a muttered tirade between mouthfuls of food.

  Pierce ignored her and turned away. He walked along the other side of the room to where Daisy’s mother sat staring at him with her fork poised half way to her mouth.

  “Bread, your Ladyship?” He proffered the basket.

  Elizabeth pressed her lips together and raised an eyebrow as she reached out and took a roll.

  “I imagine that you were always outspoken, even as a child. Is that not so, Mr. Everard? Up to all sorts of tricks and mischief, no doubt.” She spoke quietly.

  Pierce bowed and smiled down at her.

  “No indeed, my Lady. You are quite mistaken. I was the epitome of good behaviour. Until I was led astray by a delightful form of distraction.” He whispered back as he glanced along the table at Daisy. “Never been the same since.”

  Keeping her eyes forward, Elizabeth put her fork back on the plate.

  “And do you find this form of distraction to your liking still, or have you discovered that you have you out grown it in recent years?” She lifted her wine glass and took a sip.

  Pierce smiled again.

  “Never. I’d never out grow it. Was just a little slow in realizing how much I would miss it, if it were not so readily available.” He had never spoken truer words in his life.

  Elizabeth kept her eyes on her glass.

  “And in view of this previous lack of judgement, would you make such a mistake again? Or would you, if you could regain such a delight, treasure such a distraction for the rest of your life?” She glanced towards her daughter.

  Daisy stared down the table at Pierce as he whispered quiet words to her mother. What was the man saying? Her mother’s head suddenly lifted a fraction and she glanced in Daisy’s direction. Their mutual gaze held for a mere fraction of a second, but it was long enough to speak volumes. Daisy’s heart thumped hard at the meaningful look.

  Heat rising into her cheeks, Daisy dropped her gaze. H
er mother knew! She knew the new footman was Pierce. Probably had done all afternoon. But what was she saying to him now? Daisy immediately regretted the length of the table and her mother in law’s continued grumblings which blotted out all other conversation.

  ‘Such outrageous manners! He wouldn’t be tolerated in my house for longer than five minutes. The whole day has been appalling. First my son’s bedroom! All those boxes of dead creatures. Ugh! Not a thing left for his mother to treasure. Not even a stitch of his clothing. Was it too much to ask to see his personal things one last time? No! If his portrait didn’t still hang in the gallery it would be as if he hadn’t existed. Then there are all the rest of the rooms. All filled with junk and any manner of beasts that I have never seen. In the bedchambers! Whoever heard of such a thing. And now such a desultory dinner. Trout! Good grief! How is one meant to outlast starvation until morning? I shall need a good slice of fruit cake before I retire to bed.’

  Daisy tried to tune the woman out but Pierce had already left her mother’s side and was on his way back towards her.

  “Bread, your Grace.” He stood close by her side and held out the basket containing the last roll.

  Furious with him and the risks he took, Daisy shook her head.

  “What have you done? Are you mad? My mother knows who you are.” She hissed from between clenched teeth.

  Pierce appeared to ignore her.

  “No bread? But her Grace thinks it just the thing for fish bones.” He spoke loudly before lowering his tone and proffering the basket again. “I have done nothing untoward, believe me. It seems that she knew anyway. And it is better this way. She won’t say a word and might even be able to help me as she has the ear of your mother in law.”

  Daisy suddenly noticed that the room had grown very quiet. Her mother in law’s eyes were upon her. Daisy quickly took the roll from the basket and broke it as she raised her voice.