Daisy’s Betrayal

скачать книгу бесплатно


She looked at him with disbelief. ‘Honestly?’ She saw humour dancing in his eyes. ‘You’re mocking me. I’ve seen you drinking … and her.’

‘Well, I’ve already told you we’re not romantically linked, but you persist in asking questions as if we are.’

‘You might not be romantically linked,’ Daisy replied, aware that her jealousy was surfacing, ‘but she is.’

‘So you said before. Well, if she’s got such preoccupations, that’s her concern.’

She was happy to hear it. It confirmed that Fanny had no prior claim on him.

All too soon their dancing was interrupted. The New Year was about to be greeted and everybody was expected to link hands and sing ‘Auld Lang Syne’. They lost each other in the mêlée while everybody was hugging the person closest to them, shaking hands and giving their sincere best wishes for a happy and prosperous 1889. Daisy decided she must go and check on the soup that would already be heating up in the kitchen to be served later … until she realised in a blind panic that she had not finalised the arrangement to meet Lawson. She spotted him, shoved through the noisy crowd of revellers and tapped him on the shoulder.

‘I’m sorry, I have to go.’

‘You’re leaving already?’

‘I have to. Do you still want to meet me on Sunday?’ Maybe she was being forward, but she was desperate not to let him go now she had found him.

‘I’ll call for you. Just tell me your address.’

‘It would be better if I met you somewhere … You know …’ She wanted him to think it might be embarrassing with her family, or even frowned on to be seen going out without a chaperone. ‘Can we meet outside the police station?’

‘All right. Shall we say three o’clock?’

‘Three o’clock, Sunday.’ She turned and made her way to the kitchen, extraordinarily pleased with herself.

By the time they had cleared up after the party it was nearly four o’clock in the morning, but it had been a huge success for the Cooksons and a personal triumph for Daisy. She had met the man of her dreams and was euphoric. She couldn’t sleep, of course she couldn’t. She lay awake for what remained of that cold night thinking about him, going over and over in her mind every word they had spoken to each other. After she’d bid him goodnight she made it her business not to be seen again, staying in the kitchen till everybody had gone. It peeved her beyond endurance to know that Lawson must, out of etiquette, deliver Fanny back home and she imagined with resentment those big, soft pleading eyes, begging for a goodnight kiss. She tossed and turned imagining them kissing, imagining her trying to lead him on. How was a girl of eighteen allowed out, alone with him, without a chaperone?

Then she remembered her assessment of Fanny. Fanny was evidently not from polite society. Fanny was a working-class girl. It was even possible that her mother and father neither knew nor cared where she was, or with whom. But if so, what was somebody so obviously well bred and well educated as Lawson Maddox doing with her? She had to be a cousin or a niece whom he considered worthy enough to reward with such an evening out. Perhaps he had even invited her just to introduce her to Mr Robert. After all, they danced together quite a lot, and certainly seemed to laugh a lot. Daisy felt happier with this perfectly rational explanation.