by Dilly Court
‘What about the Shipways and the Greens?’
‘All done, and Danny and Alfie want to come, too.’
Daisy eyed him warily. ‘All right, but you’d better behave. No larking about.’
‘Who, me?’ Jack said with a saucy wink.
‘Wait for me with the horses, Jack. I’ll just have a word with Abel, and we’ve still got the farms on the estate to visit, so it will take the rest of the day.’
It was late afternoon when Daisy dismounted outside the front entrance of Creek Manor. She handed the reins to Jack.
‘Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you, Jack.’
‘I can be useful at times.’
‘Take Cinders back to the stable, and don’t make me regret allowing your friends to attend the party. They’d better be on their best behaviour.’
‘You won’t know we’re there.’ Jack nudged his pony into a walk and rode off, leading Cinders towards the stable block.
Daisy sighed as she climbed the steps. It had been a tiring day and now she would have to face whatever had happened at the house during her absence. George let her in, his features impassive as always, and it occurred to Daisy that Marjorie must have chosen him to be her footman because of his height and extreme good looks. He was not very bright and he was grumpy at the best of times, but he looked the part. Daisy walked past him, but then she noticed a telegram on the silver salver. She picked it up and saw that it was addressed to her. Her heart sank: telegrams usually meant bad news.
Chapter Ten
‘When did this come, George?’
‘Not long ago, madam.’
Daisy opened it, fearing the worst and her fingers were shaking, but it was a reply from Toby and her relief was so great that she forgot to reprimand George. It was obvious that the delivery had completely slipped his mind. It was well-known below stairs, or so Hilda said, that George was sweet on one of the chambermaids, who in turn was only interested in James. The romantic triangle did not make for efficient servants.
‘Is there a reply, madam?’
‘It’s a little late for that, George. The messenger must have left ages ago.’ She tucked the piece of paper into her skirt pocket. It was good news. Toby and Minnie would be arriving in time for the party.
‘I’m sorry, madam,’ George said sulkily.
‘There’s no harm done.’ Daisy made her way upstairs to the small bedchamber. The austere setting reminded her of her time in Mrs Wood’s lodging house for young ladies. There had been scant comfort there, but she had enjoyed the friendship of the other residents, and especially Minnie. Daisy smiled as she thought of her friend, who would soon become her sister-in-law, and she was delighted that Toby and Minnie were able to attend the party. With that happy thought, she changed into a plain grey tussore afternoon gown, but a quick glance in the small fly-blown mirror made her change her mind. She looked like a drab and that was not how she wanted to present herself to the world. Her conversation that afternoon with Nick had brought back memories of the time when she had thought herself to be in love with him. The emotions she experienced then had been nothing compared to the way Jay had made her feel, and their brief months of marriage had been like heaven on earth, but that had made losing him even more painful. If she was wrong and he was gone for ever, she might end up a creature to be pitied, like Lavender Creedy, who was doomed to play the organ at festive occasions and funerals, but a spinster barely existed in the eyes of the world. As a widow Daisy knew that she would command some respect, but she had no desire to sink into obscurity, nor had she any intention of allowing Julian Carrington to gloat over her present position.
She undid the tiny pearl buttons on her bodice, frowning at her reflection in the mirror, and she allowed the gown to fall to her feet. She was not yet twenty-one, and she had the figure of a young girl. Jay’s memory was tucked away safely in her heart, but she was very much alive and she would take control of events. Marjorie must not be allowed to dictate terms any longer. Daisy went to the chest and selected another gown from the trousseau that Jay had insisted on purchasing for her, even though it went against tradition, but Jay had never been afraid to break the rules. She smiled as she selected a creation in emerald-green faille with a frilled skirt and ruffles at the neckline, which revealed a little more than Marjorie would think appropriate. It had been Jay’s favourite and Daisy knew that it suited her dark colouring and rose-petal complexion. She took out the small casket that contained her jewellery and selected a gold brooch and the gold drop earrings that Jay had given her as a wedding present. Satisfied at last with her appearance, she left her room ready to take anyone on, and she knew she had succeeded in making an impression when she met Mr and Mrs Woodward as they took off their outdoor clothes and handed them to a maidservant.
Mr Woodward’s eyebrows rose at least an inch and his mouth dropped open. ‘G-good afternoon, Mrs Tattersall. Lovely day.’
His wife elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Harold. It’s just started to rain, which is why we hurried indoors.’ She looked Daisy up and down and her lips pursed with disapproval. ‘Are we dressing for dinner early today?’
Daisy smiled benevolently. ‘Only if you wish to, Mrs Woodward. But it is a little early.’
‘Yes, quite.’ Harold recovered himself sufficiently to give Daisy a smile. ‘You look remarkably well today, ma’am. If you don’t mind me saying so.’
‘Hush, Harold. It’s rude to make personal remarks. You, of all people, should know that.’ Letitia tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. ‘We would like to take tea in the drawing room.’
‘I’ll pass the message on to the parlourmaid, ma’am.’ Daisy glided off in the direction of the great hall, but was met by Julian and his colleagues from the Foreign Office.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Tattersall.’ Julian bowed from the waist. It was an exaggerated gesture and his friends chuckled appreciatively.
Daisy remained unruffled. ‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ she said, smiling at each one in turn. ‘I hope you’re all looking forward to the entertainment later this week.’
Edwin Flanders puffed out his cheeks, and his jowls wobbled unattractively. ‘Will the young ladies be present, ma’am?’
‘Of course. They’re counting the hours until the dancing begins.’
‘Dancing!’ Norman Jenkins flushed and ran his finger round the inside of his stiff collar. ‘I’m not much of a dancer, I’m afraid.’
Daisy laid her hand briefly on his sleeve. ‘Don’t worry, sir. There will be plenty of other entertainments to keep you occupied. For one thing,’ she added, improvising wildly, ‘there will be night fishing in the lake.’
Norman’s eyes shone with enthusiasm. ‘Oh! That’s splendid. I haven’t fished since I was a boy, but that sounds exciting.’
‘Night fishing?’ Edwin echoed. ‘Are you sure? Isn’t it dangerous?’
‘That only adds to the thrill, sir,’ Julian said casually. ‘Will you be joining us, ma’am?’
‘Maybe, or maybe not.’ Daisy smiled at each in turn. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have many things to do. Perhaps you would like to join Mr and Mrs Woodward for tea in the drawing room?’
Julian drew her aside. ‘I’m trying to avoid that woman. Did you know that she’s a distant relation of mine?’
Daisy smiled sweetly. ‘The guest list was compiled by Mrs Harker. I am merely her secretary.’ She walked on without waiting for a response, but she knew instinctively that Julian was staring after her and she could picture his bemused expression. In their past relationship she had been the one who waited eagerly for him to notice her – a governess did not put herself forward – but that was then, and now she was the lady of the manor, whatever Marjorie Harker might say to the contrary.
Daisy made her way to the kitchen and the heat from the giant range hit her like a physical blow as she entered the room. Both cooks were working, but far enough apart so that their paths did not cross, and the kitchen maids
rushed around, obeying the orders barked at them by their superiors. The aroma of baking filled the air and through the open door of the cold room Daisy could see fruit jellies shimmering like stained glass in the sunlight, and bowls of trifle studded with ruby-red glacé cherries and spiked with toasted almonds. It was obvious that Nell Pearce and Phoebe Salt had taken the challenge personally, each vying with the other.
Nell looked up from the mixture she was beating with a wooden spoon. ‘Did you want something, madam?’
Daisy shook her head. ‘No, I came to see how you’re getting on, but I won’t disturb you.’
‘We’ll be working until all hours,’ Nell said complacently. ‘You can’t rush this sort of thing.’ She shot a sideways glance at Phoebe. ‘Although some might try.’
‘I’m sure you are all doing your very best,’ Daisy said hastily.
‘We could do with more help.’ Phoebe raised her voice to make herself heard above the general hubbub and clatter of pots and pans.
‘I could use young Judy,’ Nell added eagerly. ‘She knows how I work and I don’t have to watch her every minute in case she does something wrong.’
Marjorie had made it clear that she did not want Mary, Hilda or even Judy interfering with the running of the household, and Daisy had been forced to agree, but now things were different. The servants had received the wages they were owed and Daisy had taken charge.
‘You shall have Judy and Hilda, and Mary will come back to make sure that the housekeepers work together.’
Nell pulled a face. ‘Begging your pardon, madam, but Mrs Ralston and Mrs Jones won’t like it.’
‘Old rivalries and differences must be put behind us,’ Daisy said firmly. ‘We must all work together to make this party a great success. It will be the talk of the county for years to come. Well done, everyone.’ She hurried away to check on the housekeeping arrangements and to inform Ida Ralston and Dorcas Jones that Mary Tattersall would be in charge from now on. Daisy had expected a rebellion, but to her surprise both housekeepers seemed to be quite relieved to think they had a superior to turn to when things did not go to plan. Daisy left them discussing the turn of events quite amicably, and her last call was on Molesworth, whom she found in the cellar. It was while she was in the stuffy, dank atmosphere below ground level that the suggested treasure hunt came to mind. She had posed the idea without giving it any serious thought, but what could be better and more exciting than a lantern-lit walk through the secret tunnel, culminating in a romantic moonlit stroll on the beach.The prize could be hidden in the undergrowth. The traffic in contraband had come to an abrupt end after the death of the old squire, and there was no reason now to keep the passageway a secret. That particular episode could be consigned to the history books.
Daisy emerged from the cellar, and was walking through the maze of corridors back to the main part of the house when she almost bumped into Patience, who, judging by the windswept state of her hair had just returned from a ride.
‘Where were you this morning when we needed you?’ Patience demanded. ‘I can dress myself, but Charity was in a state because she wanted to look her best for Julian Carrington, although I don’t like him. I think he’s sly.’
‘I had business in the village,’ Daisy said casually. ‘It’s all for your mother’s party. You will be attending that, I hope.’
‘I doubt if I have much choice.’
Daisy smiled. ‘Probably not, but I have a job for you and your sister, which I think you will enjoy.’
‘Really?’ Patience eyed her curiously. ‘What is it? Do tell.’
‘Let’s find Charity and I’ll take you somewhere you’ve never been before, but it’s a secret and you mustn’t tell a soul.’
Patience’s eyes sparkled with excitement. ‘I promise.’
They found Charity in the drawing room seated beside Julian on the sofa, but she ignored her sister’s attempts to draw her away. In the end it was Daisy who had to summon Charity, telling her that the seamstress had arrived with her new gown. Charity responded instantly, but Daisy did not answer her questions until they were out of earshot.
‘I know you don’t have a new gown, Charity,’ Daisy said patiently. ‘We’re going on a secret mission and it wouldn’t be a secret if I had told you in front of everyone.’
Charity’s sulky expression was wiped away in an instant. ‘Really? What are we going to do?’
‘I’ve fetched your shawls; you’ll need them because it’s very chilly where we’re going. Come with me.’
With the two sisters chattering away behind her, Daisy led them outside, taking the path beneath pergolas covered in cascades of mauve wisteria and a shower of pale pink roses. She stopped when they reached the summerhouse.
‘Is this it?’ Charity demanded crossly. ‘Have you dragged me away from Julian when we were just getting to know each other to visit this old pile of bricks and mortar?’
Daisy ignored this remark and mounted the steps. She bent down to lift the trapdoor and felt inside for the lantern and the matches she had had the forethought to place there earlier. Having lit the wick Daisy held the lantern above her head.
‘Who’s brave enough to follow me?’
Patience was the first to rush forward, followed more slowly by Charity.
‘Is it a cellar?’ Patience demanded eagerly. ‘What’s hidden down there?’
‘Come with me and you’ll find out. It’s perfectly safe, although it might be a bit slippery. Just do what I do and you’ll be fine.’
Charity peered into the darkness. ‘I’m not sure I want to.’
‘Stuff and nonsense,’ Patience said crossly. ‘You are such a baby. I’m going with Daisy and you can do what you like.’
‘Oh, all right. I’ll come, but if I don’t like it I’m turning back.’ Charity edged her sister out of the way. ‘I’ll follow you, Daisy. You do know what you’re doing, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do. I’ve been this way several times, and I thought it would be a wonderful end to the treasure hunt. The guests will all be provided with lanterns or candles and the prize will be at the other end. Let’s see what you two think of the idea.’
Daisy climbed down the steps with Charity following so close behind that she could feel her hot breath on the back of her neck. Daisy held the lantern in one hand and picked her skirts up with the other. Maybe she ought to have changed into something more sensible, but the guests would be wearing their best gowns, so it was important to judge whether or not they would appreciate getting their party shoes wet. Charity grumbled at first, but her protests died away as they neared the end of the underground passage, and Patience uttered squeaks of pleasure and excitement.
‘This is wonderful,’ Charity breathed, as they emerged on the foreshore. ‘I had no idea we were so near the creek. How did you discover this, Daisy?’
‘By chance,’ Daisy said casually. ‘Anyway, what do you think, girls? Would this make an exciting treasure hunt?’
‘Oh, yes.’ They spoke in unison, ending up giggling like a couple of schoolchildren.
‘What will the prize be?’ Charity asked after a pause. ‘It will have to be something that either a lady or a gentleman would appreciate.’
‘A bottle of champagne,’ Patience said excitedly. ‘You must ask Molesworth if he has one in the cellar, Daisy.’
Daisy smiled at their enthusiasm. ‘That’s a good idea, but who will organise the treasure hunt on the night? I’ll be too busy to do it myself.’
‘I will.’ Once again Charity and Patience spoke at the same time.
‘Then I think you should both do it,’ Daisy said seriously. ‘I’ll leave it to you, and I want you to make it as exciting as possible. Remember that it will be almost dark by the time the guests set off, so you’ll need to find enough lanterns to light their way.’
‘There are plenty of them in a cupboard next to the tack room. I saw them only yesterday.’ Patience glanced up at the sky. ‘I hope it will be a fine day. It’s going to
be so exciting.’
‘We’d best get back.’ Daisy checked the lantern to make sure there was enough oil in the chamber. ‘But remember, don’t breathe a word of this to anyone. It’s our secret.’
After dinner that evening, Daisy found a quiet spot in the morning room and was writing a list of things to be done next morning. Everything was going reasonably smoothly thus far, but her heart sank when Marjorie burst into the room, her cheeks flushed and her expression one of near panic.
‘Is anything wrong?’ Daisy rose to her feet.
‘Major-General Tighe-Martin has been asking questions about the guest list for the party. I tried to put him off but he was very persistent, and I haven’t received any replies to my invitations. I can’t think why.’
‘Don’t worry. It’s all in hand. Your party will be remembered for years to come.’
‘What do you mean, Daisy? How can we have an elegant assembly without guests of a certain calibre?’
‘Do you consider Dr Neville a person of the right calibre?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘And my brother, Toby, who is a doctor at the London Hospital?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘They are but two of the guests I’ve invited. All the preparations are in hand, so I suggest you enjoy the rest of your evening, and leave everything to me.’ Daisy folded the list and put it into her pocket. ‘I’m going to the cottage now, but I’ll be here first thing in the morning.’
‘Thank you, Daisy,’ Marjorie said meekly. ‘I do appreciate what you’re doing, and my husband will be grateful, too. I just hope that Major-General Tighe-Martin and his wife enjoy themselves tomorrow. Roland’s promotion depends upon good relations with his superior.’
Daisy smiled and left the room. She had done all she could for now, and she was tired. It was a long walk to the cottage, but she had good news to pass on to her little family. It was a fine evening and the air was heady with the scent of bluebells that carpeted the nearby wood, and with the fruity fragrance of damp earth. When she reached the cottage she found Mary and Hilda waiting for her with the kettle bubbling on the range, and the aroma of baking filled the room.
