Debutantes: In Love (31 page)

‘We thought that if his daughter Daisy here went into the witness box and gave the explanation to the judge – if you could call her – we thought that might influence him. What do you think, sir?’ Justin waited deferentially for his senior’s opinion.

‘Might work,’ said the lawyer after a moment’s thought. ‘How old are you, my lady, if I may ask?’

‘Eighteen,’ lied Daisy decisively, and saw that he looked relieved. It had occurred to her that there might be something against putting someone under eighteen in the witness box.

He nodded with a sudden air of cheerfulness. ‘We’ll do that,’ he said. He studied her again and asked her to take off her hat.

‘Yes, better without – a golden-haired innocent,’ said Justin with a grin, but Daisy did not smile back. This was no game. It would kill Michael Derrington if he was put in prison. Whatever happened, she must try to avoid that plight for him. There was one more card left in her hand.

When they left the lawyer’s office and went into the corridor, where barristers in wigs joked with each other, lawyers with worried expressions scurried around and frightened-looking members of the public paced up and down, she looked all around until she spotted Denis Derrington at the end of the long passageway. He had been talking to his lawyer, but now both sides’ lawyers had gone to talk in the privacy of a window alcove and he was alone.

‘Excuse me,’ said Daisy to Jack. Justin had been taken under the wing of their lawyer and was being treated by him as a junior colleague. She walked steadily in the direction of a notice marked LADIES, then glanced over her shoulder. Jack had taken a small pocketbook out and was making a note in it, so Daisy rapidly changed direction and walked purposely towards Denis Derrington.

He pretended not to know her, though she guessed that he had been aware of her presence at the court in Maidstone, and also seen her beside the lawyer this morning. However, she introduced herself briskly and went straight to the point.

‘My father is extremely unwell and cannot attend this morning.’ The words were crisp and to the point and she cut through his muttered expressions of regret with a decisiveness that pleased her.

She got straight to the point. ‘I want you to agree to a postponement of this hearing,’ she announced.

‘My dear cousin Daisy, we cannot waste the time of the court like this. Your father chooses not to attend; that’s for him to decide, but I don’t see why I have to go to all the trouble and expense of another hearing.’

‘There would be no trouble or expense if you withdrew,’ she pointed out.

His face darkened. ‘I’m not going to do that. Goodness knows what the man will do next – sell Beech Grove Manor House to an American.’

Clearly this man cannot be reasoned with, thought Daisy. She would have to go out on a limb and hope that she was right.

‘I would insist that you agree to a postponement or else . . .’ She purposely allowed the end of her sentence to dangle unfinished.

‘Or else what?’ Obligingly he rose to her bait.

‘Or else I will tell the court that you are a man of bad character and that the last time you were at Beech Grove Manor House you seduced a servant girl, and that the present scullery maid, Maud, is your daughter – the living image of you, I may add.’ She listened patiently to his splutterings, but knew, as she gazed up into the unusual green eyes and the winged eyebrows above them, that her guess had hit the mark. The housekeeper’s gossip about Denis Derrington’s visit sixteen years ago, which Morgan had told her about, had lodged at the back of her mind. Then inspiration had dawned yesterday when she was watching Maud sing. When she had seen Denis Derrington in Maidstone he had reminded her of someone, but she had supposed it must be some relative. Yesterday, in a blinding flash of certainty, she had realized that person was Maud.

‘I will also inform the court that, despite your wealth, you do not pay one penny towards her maintenance and that she was brought up in an orphanage and sent out to work at the age of twelve. Of course,’ she conceded, ‘I suppose all this will be ruled out of order, but I can assure you that I will get as much of the story out as possible before I am silenced. Are you willing to take the risk?’

And then she left him and rejoined Jack, who was still making notes.

‘Not nervous about speaking in front of the judge, are you, Daisy?’ he asked in a kindly way.

‘A bit,’ she said just to please him, ‘but I’ll be all right.’ She was feeling rather pleased with herself and added, ‘You’re very good to us all, Jack. I’m sorry that you’ve had so much bother.’

She registered that he looked touched, but most of her attention was on Denis Derrington. His lawyer had been talking with Denis and had now approached their lawyer.

A few minutes later Denis and his lawyer departed and their own lawyer, accompanied by the barrister, was back, with Justin beaming happily behind them.

‘Good news,’ said the solicitor rapidly as soon as he was beside them. ‘The other side have agreed to postpone the hearing for a month in order to give the Earl a chance to recover.’

‘They must have heard a rumour that we were going to put you in the box, Daisy, and they ran scared,’ said Justin with a grin.

‘It solves nothing though, just postpones the inevitable,’ warned the lawyer. ‘Unless the Earl can find some way to repay the money he obtained by the sale of timber and of a very valuable piece of woodland, then any judge in the country will bring in a verdict in favour of Sir Denis.’ He stopped for a moment and then said significantly, ‘There is, of course, another way, if you, Sir John, as the representative of the family, feel that, given the Earl’s state of mind, this should be pursued.’

Jack looked at him through narrowed eyes. ‘I think I understand what you are driving at,’ he said slowly. And then with a sudden change of tone he said, ‘Daisy dear, would you go back to the car and wait for us there. Here, take this,’ he produced a pound note. ‘Buy yourself a magazine and a newspaper for Morgan. ‘He took another look at the lawyer and then said to her, ‘We may be some time, but you will be quite comfortable in the car and Morgan will look after you.’

For a moment Daisy thought of refusing, but then decided against it. She made as if to walk briskly away, but stopped as soon as she had reached the corner and stole back to stand behind one of the marble pillars.

‘Get him certified?! A lunatic asylum!’ Justin’s voice rose up high and astonished. The lawyer said something inaudible in reply. Daisy moved closer to the shelter of another pillar.

‘Of course, a man who is out of his wits cannot be deemed responsible for his actions,’ came Jack’s voice, measured and considering, with none of the horror that had sounded from Justin. ‘It is a point.’

‘The Earl could always recover,’ said the lawyer, ‘and then of course there would be no problem with reversing his certification. At least the house and such income as there is would be retained for his dependent daughters, for the moment.’

‘Worth trying,’ said Jack.

‘Let’s just step into this room – we’ll be undisturbed here. We need to make a few notes of occurrences and things said by the Earl – anything to back our case.’ The lawyer sounded his usual self, urbane, sensible, businesslike . . .

Daisy could not bear to listen to any more. She wanted to confront them, to shout at them, but she was shaken by sobs and knew that she would just be put aside as a hysterical child. She had to think what was best to do. Far, far better to give up Beech Grove than to have her father imprisoned in a lunatic asylum. That would kill him. He was not insane, just depressed and shaken by fits of nerves. She would look after him, she decided – just as he and his wife had looked after her when her own mother did not want her. Stifling her sobs, Daisy ran down the steps and flew towards the narrow side street where the Humber had been parked. Morgan saw her coming and got out of the car instantly.

‘What is it?’ His hands were on her shoulders and as she threw herself against his chest she felt his arms tighten around her.

‘Oh, Morgan.’ She could say nothing more. Sobs were choking her.

‘Try to tell me.’ His voice in her ear sounded hoarse.

‘They’re plotting to have my father declared a lunatic, to have him put in an asylum.’ She choked over the words. ‘The only thing that will save him from that will be for him to give up Beech Grove Manor.’

There was a silence for a moment. She stood there with his arms around her, her cheek resting against his broad chest. She could hear his heart hammering against her ear and somehow the sound soothed her. After a minute she raised her head. He dug a large clean white handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her, but still kept his other arm around her. She dried her eyes and nestled into his warmth while her thoughts moved, sifted themselves and clarified inside her head.

‘Once Elaine and Jack go back to India,’ she said after a minute, ‘I’m going to get myself a couple of rooms in London – they’re not expensive out near where the film studios are. I’ll keep Father with me, and Violet can look after Great-Aunt Lizzie – though she’d probably prefer to go to her cousin. Rose can spend her holidays with Poppy, Lady Dorothy and Joan.’ She was pleased to hear how firm her voice sounded, but when Morgan said nothing she looked up at him a little defensively.

He was not looking at her, just gazing ahead with a strange frown on his face.

‘Father will be just as well off without the responsibilities of Beech Grove Manor,’ she assured him, ‘and you know that Baz and Poppy will want to employ the band in the club. Lady Dorothy is very rich, you know. There’ll be money for everything to do with the jazz club now.’

‘I’m not worried about that; I’ve had an offer from the Savoy Hotel for the post of drummer for three nights a week. That will be enough for me to live on – enough to get married on too,’ he added softly.

‘Married?’ Daisy let the word fall.

He said nothing and she forced herself to go on. ‘Have you found someone that you would like to marry?’ she asked.

He hesitated for a moment, looking around the deserted street. She moved back into the shadow of an archway and he followed her. In a second his arms were around her again, holding her very tightly and his burning lips were on hers, not a tentative kiss, but passionate and demanding, sending excited ripples running through her. They stood there for a long moment, locked in each other’s arms, until the sound of newspaper boy crying the evening papers made them break apart.

‘I may be a nameless nobody,’ he smiled, ‘but if you marry me I’ll love and cherish you for all of your life. You will never want for anything while I have a breath in my body.’

Daisy lifted her lips to his and, oblivious to the grinning newspaper boy, they kissed again.

‘I, Daisy Carruthers, do take thee, Morgan the Impresario, as my lawful wedded husband,’ she said softly.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Wednesday 4 June 1924

It’s been nine days, thought Daisy as she and Morgan walked silently towards the vicarage, nine days of contrasts. Bliss and deep contentment whenever she thought of Morgan, whenever they stole a moment together and discussed their future home and their plans. And frantic worry when she thought of Michael Derrington. They had decided to tell no one of their engagement. It was essential that no word of it should come to the Earl’s ears while his mental state was so precarious. Now he was lying in his bed and obstinately refusing to eat. The doctor had talked of removing him to a mental hospital where he would be force-fed, but Daisy had argued strongly against it. His momentary flicker of interest in jazz had given her hope, but that had fizzled out, and when Poppy had bravely taken her clarinet into his bedroom he had shouted at her to go away and to stop tormenting him, before drawing the bedclothes over his head.

It was lucky that Rose had gone back to school. The sight of her father in this very much worse state would have deeply upset the child. Now she was happily back with her friends and writing outrageous letters about ‘
The Case of the Mysterious Disappearance of the Mad Maths Teacher
’, which amused everyone at breakfast table, making Jack laugh so much that he choked over his coffee.

But Michael Derrington only turned his face to the wall when Daisy offered to read Rose’s latest epistle to him.

She sighed, averted her mind from the unsolvable and went back to Morgan. She tucked her arm into his and steered his reluctant feet towards the vicarage.

‘I wonder what we will find out,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you might be the son of someone married to a rich American. Who knows? Perhaps you might be Morgan from New Orleans after all.’

The vicar was surprisingly young – and harassed. There was the noise of a baby crying loudly upstairs and of a toddler scampering around overhead. He gave one glance upward but then ushered them into his study.

‘I’ve prepared for your visit,’ he said. ‘I’ve got out the church baptismal records.’ He pulled out a heavy, thick, leather-bound book and placed it on the table. ‘Now let me see . . .’ he said and looked expectantly at them.

Morgan pulled from his pocket the birth certificate he had received from Somerset House and silently held it out to him.