The Letter

by Ruth Saberton

  At this Daisy had shivered. So she hadn’t been mistaken when she’d thought Dickon’s eyes were like chips of ice. What sort of person enjoyed watching another’s suffering? A dangerous one, was the answer. She would listen to Gem’s warning and be very careful. But it was so hard when she was drawn to Kit like a moth to a candle and when he made her feel so alive and joyful. Daisy was sure the returning strength in her leg and her new curves were down to him rather than the saltwater bathing and the fresh air.

  She mustn’t let her gaze drift over to Kit when she sat in church, his golden head three rows in front of her pew. Kit couldn’t look at her either but confessed he’d scratched a daisy onto the front of his pew, concealed behind his prayer book. He said that he often traced it with his fingers during the service as he thought about her. When Daisy had worried that this was blasphemous, Kit had just laughed and said that God was love, wasn’t He? And Kit was certain that his heavenly Father had sent Daisy to him. She was an angel fallen to earth, and holding her in his arms was the closest thing to paradise he could imagine.

  Kit was skilled with words but this had to be one of the most romantic things he’d ever said to her. Daisy had written it all down in her diary before kissing the words on the page and pressing the book against her heart. She was so happy she thought she might burst. She’d never imagined it was possible to feel like this!

  Still, just to make certain nobody suspected anything, she wouldn’t cycle past the Manor quite so often when she borrowed Nancy’s bicycle. That was quite a giveaway. She must also make sure that any new poems Kit wrote for her were hidden beneath the floorboards, along with the others. Kit, shy and self-depreciating, thought all his poems were mere scribbles and tried to throw them away, which Daisy couldn’t bear. Instead she kept them all. Early drafts in his beautiful cursive hand, peppered with crossings out, were tied up with a red hair ribbon and stored in the biscuit tin. However, the latest one, a sonnet about the sea, was still tucked inside her copy of Keats. Kit had been redrafting it for days, frustrated with the conceit. She must make sure she placed it in her tin just in case…

  “He’s just a bully,” Gem had said gravely, giving Nancy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t look so glum. Not all men are like him, Nance. I promise.”

  “They think they’re a cut above the rest of us, that side of the family,” Nancy had replied bitterly. “Just because they own a farm and land, they think they’re gentry now. Dickon even thinks he’s good enough for a doctor’s daughter.”

  Although Nancy was washing up with her back to Daisy, it had been obvious by the stiff set of her shoulders that she was fuming.

  “He’s set his sights on you all right, Miss,” Gem had agreed. “He’s been telling everyone so. I heard him boasting in the pub that you’re going to be his girl. He thinks it’s a done deal, so be careful.”

  Daisy had been about to tell them both that this was nonsense and that she didn’t think she was any better, or worse, than anyone else. However, at that moment Mrs Polmartin had interrupted, telling Nancy to hurry up, tutting at Gem for being inside with dirty boots on and shooing Daisy back to the drawing room to read to her godfather. Nancy had finished the washing up, Gem had walked her home and Daisy had forgotten the conversation amid all the excitement of falling in love with Kit.

  But now, standing outside St Nonna’s with the brawny Dickon towering over her, Daisy recalled every word and was immediately on her guard. Dickon might be handsome to look at, but something very ugly lurked beneath the surface. Thinking of soft scrabbling paws and pitiful meows, she swallowed nervously.

  “Thank you,” she said politely. What else was she meant to say to such a comment? Her eyes flickered to the gate. Just beyond, Kit was helping his mother into a smart carriage, but his attention was wholly focused on the task; he was unaware of Dickon. Daisy’s godfather was behind her in the church porch, deep in conversation, and Gem and Nancy were already strolling back to the village. Although Daisy was surrounded by parishioners, in effect she was alone with Dickon.

  “You don’t need to thank me when it’s true,” he said. “You’re a very pretty girl and I think we have a great deal in common.”

  Daisy couldn’t imagine what this could be. From what little she knew of him, Dickon Trehunnist was more interested in wrestling and drinking than he was in reading poetry or discussing literature. She craned her neck in Kit’s direction once again, but the carriage was heading away at a spanking trot and her heart sank. She was stuck.

  Dickon took her elbow and guided Daisy along the path, nodding to neighbours as they passed and holding court with the villagers. Daisy allowed herself to be swept along, even though the touch of his hand on her arm was repellent. At least it was only a short distance to the gate before she could turn to the Rectory and make her escape. A little like holding her breath beneath the water, she could do this. She just hoped he wasn’t expecting a conversation.

  Fortunately for Daisy, Dickon wasn’t interested in anything she might have to say. Instead she was treated to a monologue about how many bales of straw he could lift, how he’d won the steeplechase last season, his love of fox hunting and how many acres he would stand to inherit. All she was required to do was listen. She attempted this for a while but eventually drifted away on thoughts of Kit.

  They were due to meet at the cove that afternoon and she could hardly wait. Seeing him across the church and not being able to speak to him, barely being acknowledged save a polite nod as he passed her pew, was agony. All she longed to do was touch him, trail her fingertips along the ridge of his collarbone and slip her hand underneath his shirt to feel his warm skin. Daisy wasn’t sure how she could wait for two more hours to see him. She loved Kit so much it hurt.

  “So, as you can see, I have prospects and good ones too,” Dickon finished proudly. “I know there are a lot of girls in this village who would love to come to the dance with me but I’ve decided I want to take you. We’re perfectly matched in every way. I’ll come to collect you up next Saturday at six.”

  Daisy wasn’t quite able to believe what she’d heard.

  “I beg your pardon? You’ll collect me for what?”

  “The summer dance at the village hall,” Dickon repeated. There was a flicker of something in his expression that looked a lot like impatience, but he squashed it quickly. Again, the image of drowning kittens darted through her mind’s eye. “There’s one held every month. I’m going to take you, Miss Daisy.”

  No, he wasn’t!

  “Thank you for the kind invitation, but I’m afraid I won’t be going to the dance,” she said politely.

  “What? Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you will. It’s a big event. Everyone from the village will be there.”

  “Not me,” said Daisy firmly.

  “Of course you’ll be there. It’ll be great fun. You’ll see.” His grasp on her elbow tightened and Daisy pulled away sharply.

  “I’m not going to the dance with you,” she said.

  Dickon’s brows drew into a scowl. “Has somebody asked you already? Don’t worry about that. I’ll have a word with them. It isn’t a problem.”

  “Nobody’s asked me. Thank you for the kind invite but I don’t want to go to the dance. Not with you or anyone.”

  Except Kit, Daisy added silently. How wonderful would it be to feel his arms around her as they danced cheek to cheek beneath a sleepy harvest moon? Imagine if they could court openly like Nancy and Gem. How marvellous would such openness be?

  Dickon looked stunned. “I’m asking you to go with me. As my partner. Lots of girls would be pleased.”

  “Then you must ask one of them,” Daisy told him. “As I’ve said, I’m very flattered to be asked but I don’t wish to go to the dance with you.”

  Dickon’s mouth was swinging open on its hinges.

  “But I’ve told everyone you’re going to be my partner,” he spluttered when he eventually recovered himself.

  “That was rather presumptu
ous,” Daisy replied, irritated by this.

  Dickon’s face was red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. It must have been the first time in his life that a girl had refused him.

  “There’s someone else, isn’t there?” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t bother to deny it. I can tell just by looking at you. Who is he?”

  “There’s nobody,” Daisy insisted, but Dickon shook his head and for a moment she thought he was going to shake her until Kit’s name rolled from her tongue. There was certainly power in those bunched biceps and Daisy didn’t doubt that Dickon would use it if he thought he would get away with it.

  “You’re lying,” he declared. “There’s someone else. You’d have said ‘yes’ otherwise. Who is he? I’ll deal with him. No one makes a fool out of me.”

  “I think you’ve done a very good job of that by yourself,” Daisy snapped.

  The words flew from her mouth before she could stop them. Mama had always said her redhead’s temper was going to get her into trouble, and now it seemed that she’d been right. Dickon stepped back. His eyes were dark with fury.

  “You’ve made yourself very plain, Miss Hills,” he hissed. “Don’t trouble yourself any longer. I won’t be asking you again. There are no second chances with me. Ever.”

  And with this parting shot he spun on his heel and marched away, every line of his body rigid with indignation. Even his hands were balled into fists as he fought to keep his temper, although she guessed he itched to hit her. There was rage and menace there and a low cunning too, Daisy thought, and her heart sank when she remembered Gem’s warning.

  I’d hate you, or anyone else, to be on the wrong side of him. I reckon he could be right nasty.

  As she watched Dickon slamming the churchyard gate behind him, Daisy feared she’d made a very dangerous enemy indeed. She and Kit would need to be doubly careful from now on.

  Chapter 7

  Daisy, July 1914

  July was a hot and hazy backdrop to falling in love. The days were dappled with sunshine and the nights were warm enough for Daisy to leave her window open so that salty breezes lifted the curtains and cooled the attic. She had never known a happiness like it and Daisy knew she would remember this time for the rest of her life; she would always look back upon it as the most perfect summer. She and Kit snatched every moment they could together, and whenever they were apart they longed for one another. Sometimes they met at the cove, other times on the clifftop and occasionally even in the woods at the far side of the village. The more time they spent together, the more intense their feelings grew. Daisy knew beyond all doubt that she had found her soulmate.

  Yet as perfect as all this was, Daisy had an uneasy feeling that something was hovering just over their horizon. Sitting beside Kit on the clifftop, watching the seabirds plunge and the waves roll to the shore, it was easy to forget that their time together wasn’t infinite. It was even easier to allow herself to weave dreams for the future – dreams that she knew in her heart could never come true.

  “What’s wrong?” Kit asked, catching the wistful expression on her face.

  Daisy shrugged. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on or explain, more of a feeling that time was running away from them. Whether it was the tense headlines she read across the breakfast table or the nagging unease since Dickon Trehunnist had asked her to the dance, Daisy couldn’t tell; she only knew that knots were starting to tighten in the pit of her stomach. Like intense heat before a thunderstorm, these sunny days felt as though they were a prequel to something momentous. This bubble of happiness couldn’t possibly last forever. At some point, Kit would have to embrace the life he was born for, and where would that leave her?

  Broken-hearted. That was where.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, but Kit wasn’t fooled.

  Putting aside the daisy chain he’d been fiddling with, he drew her against him and pressed his lips into her sun-warmed hair. “I don’t believe that for a minute,” he said quietly. “Something’s worrying you, Daisy. Tell me what it is.”

  Daisy wasn’t sure where to begin. “This?” she said, spreading her hands.

  “But this is good, isn’t it?” Kit asked. A lock of hair fell over his face and she smoothed it away tenderly. As she did so, he caught her hand, pressing a kiss into the palm and then closing her fingers as though sealing it in. “Isn’t it?” he repeated.

  “Yes, this is wonderful, Kit, so wonderful that it frightens me. How can something so good last?”

  He laughed. “Because it’s meant to be. It’s written in the stars. It’s fate!”

  Daisy, recalling Romeo and Juliet, didn’t feel encouraged. There was something about the idea of fate that terrified her; it made her feel like a puppet and as though any sense of control was merely an illusion. Rather than allaying her fears, Kit’s words had exacerbated them. What if this growing sense of unease and the creeping dread of her dream weren’t mere fancies at all but premonitions of something darker?

  “I know things aren’t straightforward for us,” Kit said, leaning his forehead against hers so that even their eyelashes kissed, “but I’ll find a way around that, I promise. I’ll make my father understand.”

  “How?” Daisy asked. She doubted that Colonel Rivers, a stern man who even on a Sunday and seated in the family pew bristled with disapproval, would ever countenance a humble doctor’s daughter marrying his son.

  “I’ll talk to Father and tell him how I feel about you. I’ll make my parents understand. Trust me.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  A determined expression stole across Kit’s face and his jaw clenched. “Then it’s their choice. They can disown me, disinherit me. They can do whatever they like but I won’t give you up, Daisy. I can find work to support us. It will all be fine, I promise.”

  His hands tightened on hers. Daisy knew he meant every word he said, but Kit had never had to support himself. He was clever and brave, but he had scant experience of the world beyond the Manor.

  “I know you’re thinking that I’m spoiled and privileged and have no idea,” he continued. “Don’t deny it, Daisy! I can see everything in those beautiful brown eyes of yours! But I can do this. I can write, so maybe I could become a schoolmaster? Or a curate? Or even, and here’s an irony, join the army? Whatever it takes, I’ll take care of you. I swear it.”

  “I know you will,” Daisy said.

  There was a “but” hanging over her words, like the heat haze that hung over the water. Before she could say any more, Kit pulled Daisy close and kissed her.

  “Never mind how. All that matters is that I love you,” he said firmly. “And you love me. We’re meant to be together and nothing can keep us apart. I love you so terribly, Daisy Hills, and I cannot be without you.”

  She nodded and was going to reply when Kit looked straight at her. It was a look that made Daisy feel as dizzy as she sometimes did when she stood a little too close to the cliff edge. Her words evaporated.

  “I love you and I want to marry you,” he told her softly. “I want you to be my wife, Daisy Hills. I’m sorry if this isn’t the most romantic proposal, and I know I should have spoken to your father first and I should be on one knee and with a ring and all that, but I don’t think there’s much time to waste, truth be told.” He looked out to sea for a moment before turning back to her. “Times like these make a man think about what counts.”

  “There’s going to be a war, isn’t there?” Daisy whispered.

  Kit nodded. “I think so, yes.”

  An image of blackened skeleton trees and scorched earth flashed through Daisy’s mind. Her stomach lurched. Was this what her dream had shown her?

  “Would you fight if there was?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer. The Rivers were a military family and nothing else would be expected.

  Kit exhaled wearily. “Of course, I would. And if that happens then I want to know I’m fighting for something that really matters. All this,” he jerked his he
ad towards the green cliffs and glittering sea, “and you, Daisy. Most of all you. I love you, you know that.”

  She nodded, even though her mind was still stumbling through the remembered remnants of her nightmare dreamscape. “I love you too.”

  “So, do I take that as a yes? Will you marry me?”

  Daisy flung her arms around him and covered his face in kisses. Her heart was racing.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes! Of course it’s yes!”

  “In that case we need a ring.” Reaching for his abandoned daisy chain, Kit wound the delicate strand around the third finger of her left hand and regarded it critically.

  “It’s hardly a diamond but it will have to do for now.”

  “I love it!” Daisy cried. “I don’t need a diamond. I’ll keep it forever!”

  Kit grinned. “I should hold you to that and save a fortune. Besides, I’d be surprised if that daisy chain lasts until suppertime.”

  “You wait! I shall press it and keep it with all my treasures. I’ll still have it even when I’m a very old lady. You’ll see!”

  Kit held up his hands. “I believe you! I’m not going to argue with my beautiful fiancée!”

  Daisy’s heart skipped a beat when she heard this said out loud. She was Kit Rivers’ fiancée! She really, truly was! How was it possible to be so happy? At this moment his parents, her godfather and even Dickon Trehunnist couldn’t have mattered less, because Kit was kissing her and nothing else registered at all. He was her world and Daisy wanted nothing more.

  The afternoon slipped into the early evening and, after many kisses, she and Kit parted company. As she walked back to the Rectory, Daisy turned the afternoon’s events over and over in her mind. The daisy chain was safely pressed inside her volume of Keats and, except for a smile on her face, lips swollen from Kit’s kisses and a head full of dreams, there was little to show that she was an engaged woman. When the time was right, Kit was resolved to break the news to his parents and then Kit and Daisy could make their plans. Until then, this was their wonderful, delicious secret. The practicalities didn’t matter a jot. All that mattered was that they were engaged and in love.