Read Candles in the Storm Online
Authors: Rita Bradshaw
Tags: #Romance, #Sagas, #Historical, #Fiction
Candles in the Storm (43 page)
Daisy nodded. ‘The day before Christmas Eve. Apparently it’s a short laying-out because of its being Christmas and all the services arranged.’
Up until this moment in time Daisy had said nothing of what had occurred with Francis Fraser, but suddenly she felt the need to tell Kitty all of it including the part her parents had played in the proceedings. The other girl listened intently, and when Daisy finished with, ‘So I think you were spot on with your prediction we’ll hear nothing from your parents,’ Kitty stared at her, wide-eyed.
‘By, lass . . .’ The words seemed to have required all the effort Kitty was capable of, because now she sat back on the hard wooden saddle, her mouth still slightly agape and her head moving from side to side in disgust. ‘The old devil,’ she managed eventually. ‘To do something like that to another woman.’
Daisy nodded. She had no doubt that Gladys would make sure the door to Evenley House was now firmly closed to her. Suddenly what had been a temporary stay in the village was a permanent one, and it was a funny feeling. She loved her granny and her brothers and all the folk she had grown up with, but she didn’t feel a part of the community in the same way as before however hard she tried. And she
had
tried over the last days.
had
tried over the last days.
‘I’m going to go to Miss Wilhelmina’s funeral, Kitty, whatever anyone might say about it not being decent. I . . . I have to. Would you sit with Gran if Alf’s mam isn’t better by then?’
‘She will be. Constitution of a shire horse, has Mam. You sure you want to go, lass? You know they’ll all whisper about it not being right for a female to attend, and an unmarried one at that. It’ll be another nail in your coffin,’ Kitty added with unconscious dark humour.
Daisy inclined her head slowly. She had to say goodbye properly, she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t. And she hadn’t taken any notice of those who said it wasn’t seemly for females to attend funerals when Tom and her da died so she wasn’t about to start now. ‘I have to go, Kitty.’
‘Then I’m coming with you.’
‘Alf might not like it, lass.’
‘I’m coming.’ Kitty stared at her, still shaking her head. ‘You know, I wouldn’t have believed even Mam could sink so low as to set up something with that horrible man. By, I’m glad I’m out of it, lass. If the flow of the milk of human kindness depended on me mam it’d have dried up years ago. She’s knocked me from Monday to Saturday since I was a bairn, but her fists are nothing compared to her tongue. And she’ll think she’s got the upper hand now, that’s what gets me. Crowing like a rooster, she’ll be. I don’t know the Bible well enough to know if the devil had a mam, but if he did, rest assured she’s alive an’ well an’ living in Fulwell.’
‘Oh, Kitty.’ In spite of everything the ghost of a smile touched Daisy’s lips. Whatever else changed Kitty remained the same, and Daisy had never been so thankful for the stout, warm-hearted northern lass as she was at that moment.
The day of the funeral was one of high winds and bitter cold, but as Daisy sat shivering at the very back of Whitburn parish church next to Alf, with Kitty on the other side of the fisherman, her thoughts were on her mistress and not her own icy feet or frozen hands. Alf had insisted on escorting the two girls when he had realised Daisy was determined to go to the funeral, and Kitty was equally determined to accompany her, and in truth Daisy was glad of the big solid fisherman’s presence. There was something very comforting about being under her old friend’s protection when she felt so sad about Miss Wilhelmina and upset about her granny.
The congregation were waiting for the hearse to arrive, followed by the family. As a subdued stir announced its arrival Daisy closed her eyes. Oh, Miss Wilhelmina, I hope you’re able to run and dance and do all those things you wanted to where you are now. Forgive me for not being with you when you needed me most, she prayed.
When she opened her eyes the cortège was filing past. As she took in the sight of a young man on crutches next to Sir Augustus her heart actually missed a beat. He hadn’t seen her, all the family were looking neither to left nor right, but as her eyes followed his blond head she felt faint for a moment.
Kitty must have nudged Alf. Daisy was aware of him leaning towards his wife and Kitty whispering something, causing Alf’s head to shoot up as he glanced first towards the black-clad figures and then at Daisy. This was on the perimeter of her vision and Daisy didn’t turn to meet his eyes, not even when he kept them on her for some moments before looking to the front again.
William was here
. Why hadn’t she considered the possibility he might come to Miss Wilhelmina’s funeral? And then she answered herself. The last she’d heard from her mistress before her granny took bad was that it was going to be a long old haul before William was well again, and the doctors were insisting he take it very slowly. And, after all, he hadn’t bothered with the old lady in years.
. Why hadn’t she considered the possibility he might come to Miss Wilhelmina’s funeral? And then she answered herself. The last she’d heard from her mistress before her granny took bad was that it was going to be a long old haul before William was well again, and the doctors were insisting he take it very slowly. And, after all, he hadn’t bothered with the old lady in years.
Daisy could remember only parts of the service afterwards, although she was conscious of standing up and sitting down at all the right moments, and singing each of the three hymns that had been chosen, some with very poignant words. Her emotions were muddled during this twenty minutes. Part of her was aching to see William face to face, if only from a distance, and feast her eyes on the features she’d thought never to see again, but another part of her was saying, and with some bitterness, it would have meant far more to Miss Wilhelmina if her nephew had spared her just one visit in the last years, rather than making the grand gesture now when it was too late for her mistress. But over all the other thoughts one kept clamouring however much she tried to dismiss it: How could you just leave like you did, without saying goodbye?
When the service finished and the family filed out again, Daisy kept her eyes turned to the floor until the church was practically empty. Kitty and Alf said not a word as the three of them left the building, but they had stationed themselves one on either side of her, their arms through hers.
The wind was whipping round the gravestones, and by unspoken mutual consent the three of them paused some yards away from the other mourners who were standing at a respectful distance from the family gathered round the open grave. Sir Augustus was on one side of William and Francis Fraser on the other, and they were standing with their backs to the church, the parson of Whitburn church directly facing Daisy and the others. And then, as the parson began speaking, William turned, his eyes searching the crowd until they fell on Daisy whereupon they became still. And Daisy in her turn did not move a muscle. He must have seen her in the church. She acknowledged that thought as her mind said, He looks older, much older, but of course he would do with what he’s been through recently. And even more handsome.
It was with some difficulty that she broke the hold of the piercingly blue gaze but she managed it, lowering her eyes again as she struggled to take in what the parson was saying and to concentrate on the last few minutes of the funeral.
Goodbye, Miss Wilhelmina. As the first thick clod of earth hit the coffin which had now been lowered into the ground, Daisy winced. She hated that sound. God bless. I love you.
‘Let’s go.’ She turned blindly away, fighting back the tears, and Alf and Kitty moved swiftly with her, but then, as she heard her name called once, and then again, she was forced to stop, aware it was causing something of a stir.
She turned as William approached, willing herself not to betray her deep agitation and to conduct herself with dignity, and then, when he almost stumbled within feet of them, the crutches making him clumsy, her hands went out to steady him before dropping back to her sides as Alf caught him, saying, ‘Steady, sir, steady.’
‘Thank you.’ He was speaking to Alf but looking at Daisy, and now he was so close she found she couldn’t say a word. ‘I’m sorry to delay you, I just wanted to say hallo.’ His voice was tight, and she wasn’t to know it was embarrassment at his physical inadequacy to meet the occasion that was biting at him. ‘How are you?’
Daisy didn’t answer this directly. What she did say was, and stiffly, ‘I’m very sorry about your aunt, Mr William. She was a wonderful woman.’
Mr
William? Her emphasis on the division between them grated on him even as her presence made him light-headed. Never once in the time he had fought the doctors and his mother to come back to England for his aunt’s funeral, or since he had arrived at Greyfriar the day before, had the name Daisy Appleby been mentioned, but she had been on his mind constantly. When he had seen her at the back of the church as they had followed the coffin out, he had asked his father what she was doing here and why Lyndon had allowed her to come alone. ‘Lyndon?’ his father had replied. ‘What’s he to do with the fishing wench? Your aunt fell out with him years ago as I recall and the last I heard he’d married and moved to take a parish down south.’
William? Her emphasis on the division between them grated on him even as her presence made him light-headed. Never once in the time he had fought the doctors and his mother to come back to England for his aunt’s funeral, or since he had arrived at Greyfriar the day before, had the name Daisy Appleby been mentioned, but she had been on his mind constantly. When he had seen her at the back of the church as they had followed the coffin out, he had asked his father what she was doing here and why Lyndon had allowed her to come alone. ‘Lyndon?’ his father had replied. ‘What’s he to do with the fishing wench? Your aunt fell out with him years ago as I recall and the last I heard he’d married and moved to take a parish down south.’
Now, as Alf moved back in between the two women, his hand cupping Daisy’s elbow and that of Kitty, a new thought struck William. The action had been distinctly protective, even possessive. Was this rugged, good-looking individual the reason Daisy’s romance with Lyndon had come to nothing?
Before he could think of a way to broach the subject, Daisy said, ‘You know Kitty, Mr William, and this is Alfred Hardy.’
The two men nodded at each other, Kitty giving a little curtsey as the years of training kicked in. Now Daisy’s voice expressed nothing but cool politeness when she said, ‘I am pleased to see you are on the road to recovery after your accident. It must have been a trying time for you.’
‘Yes.’ He stared at her, his mind racing, adding as an afterthought, ‘Thank you.’
After the rush of emotion Daisy was feeling slightly numb and not at all herself, but she welcomed the anaesthetising effect on her feelings. He had probably felt obliged to come across and speak to her, might even have experienced a slight sense of guilt at the way he had behaved when he’d left England without warning, but the last thing she wanted was him feeling sorry for her. She could stand anything but that. He had known she . . . cared about him - at this moment she could not bring herself to acknowledge the word love - and he had led her on. Oh, yes, he had, she reiterated as though someone had challenged her. And when he had tired of his fun he had taken himself off to Paris to one of his fancy women.
She feasted her eyes on him one last time, knowing she was taking in every detail because there was little chance their paths would ever cross again, and then she turned her body slightly into Alf’s in an action that deliberately hinted at intimacy as she said, ‘We have to go, I’m afraid, my grandmother is not well. It was nice to see you again after all this time, Mr William. Goodbye.’
Say something. Stop me. Make everything all right somehow.
William was standing stiffly now, and his face, too, was stiff when he said, ‘Goodbye, Daisy.’ That was it then, she was with this fellow. Well, looking at her, in the full bloom of her beauty, he would have been a fool to expect her to stay unattached, wouldn’t he? Nevertheless he felt sick as he watched the three of them walk away after Alf had nodded at him and Kitty had given another little bob. Sick to his soul.
That had shown him she didn’t need any grand gestures on his part, that her life was fine without him. Daisy’s head was high and her back straight as she walked away, and she was willing herself with all her strength not to turn round for one last glance at him.
‘You all right, lass?’ Kitty’s voice was soft, and in answer to her unspoken sympathy Daisy’s pride rose up again, enabling her to look round Alf at her friend and smile as she said, ‘I’m fine, Kitty. It was a good turn out, wasn’t it? Miss Wilhelmina would have been pleased so many people wanted to come.’
Kitty hadn’t been asking how Daisy felt regarding Miss Wilhelmina’s funeral and she knew Daisy realised this, but taking her cue from her friend she made a suitable reply and the three of them walked on.
It was much later that night, when Daisy was alone apart from the sleeping form of her grandmother and there was only the sound of the sea washing the shore outside the cottage, that she finally allowed the hot tears to fall.
Chapter Twenty-three
‘I knew you would suffer for going, and your aunt would not have expected it. Now please, darling, let me spoil you a little. You look perfectly dreadful.’
‘Thank you, Mother, that is most encouraging.’ William’s voice was wry but there was a quality to his smile as he glanced at his mother which would not have been there some months before. He had found, much to his surprise, that since her arrival in France he had felt altogether differently about her. But then
she
was different, he told himself. It was as though, having shaken off her marriage and more especially his father, she had taken on a warmth and lightness of spirit which made her a changed woman. All his life he had believed his mother was a social butterfly with little real substance - and he had to admit she had entered with gusto into the whirl of French society - but he had discovered over the last weeks and months when they had been together much of the time that she was more like her sister Lydia than he had previously given her credit for.
she
was different, he told himself. It was as though, having shaken off her marriage and more especially his father, she had taken on a warmth and lightness of spirit which made her a changed woman. All his life he had believed his mother was a social butterfly with little real substance - and he had to admit she had entered with gusto into the whirl of French society - but he had discovered over the last weeks and months when they had been together much of the time that she was more like her sister Lydia than he had previously given her credit for.
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