Debutantes: In Love (24 page)

Read Debutantes: In Love Online

Authors: Cora Harrison

BOOK: Debutantes: In Love
8.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘“
My dearest wish has been fulfilled,

said Lady Dorothy
,’ prompted Rose.

‘“
My dearest wish has been fulfilled,

Lady Dorothy told a close friend
,’ Joan amended and then waited, impatiently tapping her foot, while Chomondley took the words down.

‘Joan!’ exclaimed Lady Dorothy helplessly, but Joan, prompted from time to time by Rose, was on a roll, and was not going to be easily stopped. Baz had by now pulled off his shoes also, and together with Poppy danced noiselessly around the morning room while phrases such as
lifelong romance
,
stunning sensation
,
jazz geniuses
,
rumours are rife
drifted to their ears.

It’s true; it’s true, thought Poppy. Baz and I are going to get married. We are going to have the best jazz club in London and we will make a fortune and live happily ever after and have a large family of musical children who will be playing tin whistles and drums in their cradles.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Friday 9 May 1924

‘Ah, there you are, Morgan. I was just coming down to see whether the car was back. Could you fetch Lord Derrington from Victoria Station at three o’clock?’

Daisy’s heart stood still for a moment. So her father had been told about Poppy’s shock announcement last night. She felt very guilty. If she hadn’t rushed out to meet Charles, if she hadn’t gone to his mother’s house with him, perhaps she could have talked Jack out of informing her father so soon. Perhaps things could have been smoothed over.

‘I wish you had waited,’ she said to him in a low voice as he helped her out of the car. Who did he think he was? she thought resentfully. He had no authority over Poppy or herself. He wasn’t even a real uncle.

‘My dear girl,’ he said in those smooth tones that he used when he was really annoyed, ‘don’t you realize? It’s in every paper this morning – there are even boards up on Westminster Bridge – saw them when I went out for my early-morning walk. Your father had to be told. I had to explain that your sister consulted no one and took it into her head to do such a silly thing. The manager of the Ritz is most upset. “If it had only been our own band, Sir John,” he kept saying to me, “our bandmaster would have known better. Those Americans don’t understand. The young people there are all wild and out of control” – that’s what he said to me,’ said Jack running out of steam as Daisy glared at him angrily.

‘Well, I’m going to meet him at Victoria, not you,’ she said firmly, and was emboldened as Morgan gave her a grin from behind Sir John’s stately back. She stopped herself from saying that it was none of his business. After all, her mother’s husband did feel responsible for the girls – they were guests in his house, and Poppy should not really have made that impulsive announcement. ‘I think it will be best if I talk to him alone,’ she said quietly, trying to give the impression of being adult and in charge. ‘I’m sorry that you have been so troubled in this matter,’ she ended on a stately note and went into the house to speak to Elaine.

‘Why don’t you and Jack go out for the afternoon?’ she said when she had listened to all of Elaine’s self-justifications, which she was obviously practising on Daisy ahead of the arrival of her brother-in-law. ‘Go out straight after lunch, and by the time that you are back at dinnertime I may have calmed him down.’

‘But Jack—’ began Elaine.

Daisy quickly interrupted her. ‘Don’t let Jack talk to him before I have a chance to,’ she begged. ‘Please, Elaine. Tell him not to. Father will feel obliged to be even angrier if he sees that Jack is angry. It’s important to calm everything down now.’ She glanced out of the window and saw a quick flash of red hair as its owner bounced up the steps and put her finger on the bell.

‘Well, young lady?’ Jack was in the hall before Daisy had opened the door of the morning room.

‘It’s all fixed up,’ said Poppy, flashing a smile at him. ‘Lady Dorothy is delighted. Baz’s brother, Ambrose, is going to give him an allowance. And he’s got a house already so that’s all settled. And of course, once I am a married woman it will be quite respectable for me to play in jazz clubs, side by side with my dear old husband. I’d better go and get ready for lunch. Coming, Daisy?’ Rapidly she ran up the stairs before Sir John could say a word, and Rose followed, her cheeks pink with excitement.

‘In a moment,’ called Daisy after her. She could hardly prevent herself laughing. How like Poppy all of this was. She always managed to get her own way.

‘It will work out all right,’ she said reassuringly to Jack. It was, after all, good of him to concern himself so much about a pack of girls to whom he was not related. She was glad now that Lady Cynthia wasn’t going to make trouble for him.

‘The Pattendens are rich and very respectable,’ she added, and saw with satisfaction that he shrugged his shoulders with the air of a man who has done all that could be reasonably expected of him.

‘I’m afraid that Father is on his way up here,’ she said when she reached Poppy’s bedroom. ‘Jack phoned him.’

‘I’m glad,’ said Poppy carelessly. ‘I wouldn’t want to tell him myself as he would make such a fuss, but I don’t want it kept a secret.’

‘Secrets,’ said Rose wisely. ‘
Beech Grove Manor: A House Full of Secrets
– that may be the title of a book that I shall write this summer. Doubtless it will sell a million copies and then I shall be fabulously rich . . . Oh, Daisy, you don’t know one of the secrets, do you? Elaine had a governess called Lucinda . . . think of it,
Lucinda
!’ she said rapturously. ‘Anyway this poor girl, just like Jane Eyre and Agnes Grey and all those other governesses, fell madly in love with the son of the house, Robert, and was turned out into the snow by Great-Aunt Lizzie—’

‘Beg your pardon, your ladyships,’ said Maud, tapping on the door and putting her head around it, ‘lunch is ready.’

‘It’ll work out all right,’ said Morgan on their way to the station. ‘To be honest, I was a bit afraid of . . .’ He gave her a sidelong glance and then said, ‘Well, you can probably guess. Now that it is all out in the open, and as long as the wedding isn’t delayed too long, then it should all work out. He’s a nice little chap and they’re like a pair of bluebirds together – very much in love. How’s the money situation with the Pattendens?’

‘Not at all like us,’ said Daisy promptly. ‘They’d be quite rich, really.’

‘They’ll probably be all right then,’ he said. ‘He’s a bit young for marriage but he’s a gentle fellow. Will make her a good husband. She’ll be the boss of course. She has a lot of determination for one her age. But I still think that eighteen is too young for a wedding – for a man anyway. Women grow up more quickly. Still, it can’t be helped.’

‘So how old do you think that a man should be for marriage?’ asked Daisy, watching his face.

‘Twenty-three, twenty-four,’ he said promptly, and she chuckled.

‘So you’re just the right age,’ she observed.

He made no comment, just steered the car carefully into the station car park, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. When he had parked, she got out without waiting for him to come around to the passenger door. She had an odd feeling of being rebuffed, almost as though the happy, confident feeling that she had always had in his presence was now a thing of the past and that he was putting up a barrier between them.

In silence they walked towards the platform for the Kent trains. They were in good time and it was five minutes before the train pulled in, snorting and puffing, the steam billowing from the funnel. It seemed a long five minutes, thought Daisy, looking up at the station clock and then down the platform at the people pouring out from the train.

‘He’ll probably wait until everyone else gets out of the carriage,’ said Daisy eventually, as there was no sign of the Earl. It was odd, she thought, and she began to worry a little. Only a few stray figures were still on the platform, and one by one the carriage doors were being slammed closed by the railway staff.

They waited another five minutes, but by then no one was emerging and the train was beginning to fill up with passengers for the return journey back down to Kent.

‘We’d better go home,’ said Daisy eventually. ‘Perhaps he missed his train.’ She didn’t believe it though. Michael Derrington was meticulous about matters like this. Morgan was worried also, she thought, as she took her place beside him. His eyebrows were knitted in a frown and his lips compressed. Neither spoke during the journey back, and it was a relief when he drew up in front of number twelve.

‘Come up with me,’ she said. ‘Something is wrong; I’m sure of it.’

And so he was beside her when she went into the hall and when Jack came out from the small sitting room that he and Elaine liked to use after lunch.

‘I’m afraid we’ve had bad news; your great-aunt rang just after you left.’ His voice was formal and businesslike and Daisy was grateful for that. She could not have stood it if he had fussed or prevaricated.

‘Tell me,’ she said.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the chauffeur, but then faced her honestly. ‘It sounds to me as though he has had some sort of breakdown,’ he said. ‘According to Aunt Lizzie, he was all ready to come to London when a letter arrived in the post.’

‘The lawsuit,’ said Daisy instantly and he nodded.

‘Yes, nothing to do with young Poppy and her antics. Apparently the heir, Sir Denis, has heard of the sale of one of the woods and has brought an action against your father – what they call a stay of execution. It will be heard in London on Monday the twenty-sixth.’

‘What’s wrong with him?’ she asked, and then when he didn’t reply immediately, she said impatiently, ‘Tell me the truth, Jack.’ She was conscious of Elaine coming forward and placing her hand on her daughter’s arm, but Daisy kept her eyes fixed on Jack. ‘Aunt Lizzie used the word “catatonic”,’ he said reluctantly. ‘Do you know what that means?’ Without waiting for an answer he rushed into an explanation. ‘It means that he is sort of frozen – not able to talk; apparently he is just sitting there, gazing straight in front of him, and blind and deaf to all around him.’

Daisy turned to the chauffeur. ‘How long will it take us to get to Beech Grove at this time of day?’

‘An hour and a half – two at the most,’ said Morgan. ‘You should pack an overnight bag. Do you want to go now? There’s plenty of petrol in the car.’

‘Yes, please,’ said Daisy. She thought of going upstairs to pack and realized that it might involve her in explanations and queries. She didn’t want to talk to Elaine, nor to Poppy and Rose. ‘Let’s just go now,’ she said, and looked an appeal at him.

‘Fair enough,’ he said readily and held the hall door open for her without a single glance in the direction of Sir John.

As they went out, Daisy heard his voice calling her back, but she took no notice. Sir John Nelborough might be a big chief in the Indian Police, but he had no control, no authority over her. She knew the right thing to do and she was going to do it. She thought briefly about Violet – perhaps she should collect her on the way, but then she rejected the idea.

I’ll see for myself first, she thought desperately. Perhaps he will be fine by the time I arrive.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Friday 9 May 1924

‘Darling boy, you and dearest Poppy can’t possibly live in this tiny little house – in a mews!’ Lady Dorothy’s plucked eyebrows rose to their utmost height as she kissed Baz. She shuddered artistically as she looked around, and Poppy bit back a smile wondering what her future mother-in-law would have said if she had seen the house before Maud and the boys had scrubbed it and before the recent painting and decorating.

‘Come and see the cellar, Lady Dorothy,’ she coaxed.

‘Dear child, don’t call me Lady Dorothy – I’m determined that you shall be my little daughter. Call me . . .’

Poppy stiffened. She didn’t often allow herself to think of her dead mother, but an image of herself sobbing the word ‘Mama’ had just shot into her mind. She clenched her hands, digging the fingernails into the palms.

‘You could call her Bazmama,’ put in Rose. ‘You know;
Baz’s mama
.’

Other books

It's A Crime by Hansen, C.E.
Encore! (Tudor Saga Book 1) by Salisbury, Jamie
Masters of Doom by David Kushner
Princess Play by Barbara Ismail
Mercaderes del espacio by Frederik Pohl & Cyril M. Kornbluth
Fields of Fire by James Webb