The Best of Daughters (33 page)

She went downstairs to help Beatrice in the kitchen. She found her deep in conversation with Donovan, the head groom from Pendleton Park. They stopped talking when she entered the room and Beatrice rushed over to her waving a piece of paper. ‘Darling Daisy. There's a note from Lady Pendleton. She's got the most marvellous surprise for you.'

DAISY OPENED THE
envelope. It was hard to imagine what Lady Pendleton could have to say that would make any difference to the terrible sense of loss that hung in a dark cloud over Rainbow's End. Nothing, other than time itself, could ease the suffering caused by Teddy's death. She unfolded the sheet of expensive hand-crafted writing paper with its embossed family crest, and scanned its contents.

‘Well, what does it say?' Beatrice tugged at her sleeve. ‘We could do with some good news.'

‘Rupert is in London,' Daisy said dully. ‘Lady Pendleton wants me to travel up to town with her tomorrow morning. But it's impossible.'

Beatrice shooed Donovan out of the kitchen with a murmured excuse. She came flying back and grasped Daisy by the shoulders, giving her a good shake. ‘Stop behaving like an idiot. Moping around here won't bring Teddy back; nothing will. He's gone, bless him, and he's hopefully in a better place, but life has to go on. He loved Rupert. They were best friends all through school and university, so you must go with Lady Pendleton tomorrow. You simply must.'

Daisy stared at her in astonishment. Where was scatterbrained, spoilt Beatrice who lived for the moment?
This forceful young woman with flashing eyes and a determined tilt of her chin was a virtual stranger. ‘You think so?'

‘I do indeed.' Beatrice gave her a hug. ‘Things have changed, Daisy. Nothing is the same as it was before the war, and we can all take care of ourselves, even Mother. Although of course she pretends to be helpless and a victim of circumstances, but beneath the silk and lace there beats a heart of pure steel.' She kissed Daisy's cheek. ‘Now sit down and write a note to Lady Pendleton saying that you'll be delighted to go up to London to see your fiancé.' She moved swiftly to the dresser and took a pen and a bottle of ink from the drawer. ‘Write it on the bottom of her letter; she won't mind. After all, there is a war on and we must save paper.'

Daisy sat down at the table and penned a few lines.

‘That's right,' Beatrice said, nodding with approval. ‘But where's your engagement ring? I've only just noticed that you're not wearing it.'

Daisy tweaked the gold chain which hung round her neck and pulled it so that the ring dangled between her fingers. ‘I've worn it round my neck for safe keeping.'

Beatrice frowned. ‘Your hands are in a worse state than Mother Gurney's, but you'd better wear the ring tomorrow or Rupert will think you don't love him any more.'

‘Of course,' Daisy murmured. ‘I wouldn't want to upset him.' She unhooked the chain and slipped the ring on her finger. ‘Are you satisfied now, miss?'

‘It's not me you have to please, Daisy Lennox.' Beatrice seized the letter and blew on the ink until it dried. She folded it and slipped it back into the envelope. ‘I'll give this to Donovan, and you can help me by peeling a few potatoes for dinner.' She hurried off without giving Daisy a chance to argue.

Lady Pendleton was in a high state of excitement as they sat in the back of the Rolls with Parkin in the driver's seat.

‘It's such a wonderful coincidence that Rupert has leave at the same time as you, Daisy dear.'

‘Yes, ma'am. It's quite amazing.'

Lady Pendleton turned her head to give Daisy a quizzical look. ‘You do look very thin and pale. Are you quite well? You must have endured so much in France.'

‘I'm fine,' Daisy said stoutly. ‘Just a bit tired after the journey, but otherwise I'm quite well.'

‘You must tell me all about it. I lead such a sheltered existence that sometimes I feel quite guilty, although I suppose we all have our part to play in the grand scheme of things. I myself am on several fundraising committees.'

‘I'm sure that's a great help,' Daisy said dutifully.

‘I hope so indeed.' Lady Pendleton relaxed against the soft leather upholstery, folding her gloved hands in her lap. ‘We send knitted garments to the troops and organise raffles. I also assist as much as I am able in encouraging young, able-bodied men to enlist in the army, but Henry fears that conscription might
become law if there aren't enough volunteers.' She frowned, shaking her head. ‘I abhor the practice of sending white feathers to men who for reasons of their own do not enlist, or have not yet plucked up the courage to do so. In my opinion it's a cruel and rather cowardly act. It inflicts pain and humiliation without giving the person concerned the opportunity to explain why they don't choose to defend their country.'

‘I agree,' Daisy said earnestly. ‘No one can have any idea what it's like in Flanders unless they've seen the battlefields and the utter destruction of farms and villages for themselves.' She stared out at the green hedgerows in their full summer glory and the ripening corn studded with poppies, cornflowers and moon daisies. The flat Essex countryside looked so peaceful and serene that the war seemed a million miles away. She shot a sideways glance at Lady Pendleton's calm countenance and wondered what her future mother-in-law would say if she knew about her feelings for Bowman. Not for the first time Daisy suffered the agony of guilt. She was not worthy of Rupert. He deserved better.

They arrived in Grosvenor Square at midday and found Rupert waiting for them, but the young army officer who came to greet them was a shadow of the man whom Daisy had known for most of her life. Thin, gaunt and deeply tanned, Rupert said all the right things, but his manner although welcoming was slightly aloof, and there were deep lines radiating from the corners of his mouth. He seemed tense, and although
he was obviously trying hard to be sociable Daisy could tell that his thoughts were elsewhere. Pain was etched in his eyes, as though he had witnessed more suffering than was good for any man, and his haunted expression hinted at ghastly sights that he could not put from his mind.

He kissed his mother and then Daisy, but his lips were cold and he might as well have been greeting a maiden aunt for all the passion there was in his embrace. Daisy was at a loss to know how to treat him. She had been genuinely pleased to see him, but now she felt as though she was speaking to a stranger. A glance at his mother's face revealed that Lady Pendleton felt similarly baffled by her son's detached manner.

Luncheon was served in the grand dining room but conversation was stilted, and Lady Pendleton's attempts to coax Rupert to open up failed miserably. Daisy ate very little although the chef had excelled himself and there was little sign of food shortages in the Pendleton household. Rupert consumed everything on his plate but Daisy could see that he was hardly aware of the delicious morsels created to tempt a jaded appetite. He answered his mother's questions with monosyllables and drank rather too much wine with each course. Daisy was relieved when at last the meal was over and Lady Pendleton suggested that they might like to take coffee in the Japanese saloon.

Rupert rose to his feet. ‘If you'll excuse me, Mother, I would really like to get some fresh air. I find it quite stifling in London. It's never been my favourite place in the summer.'

Lady Pendleton managed a tight little smile, nodding her head. ‘Of course, I understand. Perhaps Daisy would like to accompany you. Green Park is quite lovely at this time of the year.'

‘A turn around the gardens in the square will suit me well enough, Mother.' Rupert glanced at Daisy. ‘Would you?'

She knew that she must face him alone at some stage, and she stood up. ‘Yes, that would be lovely. I'll just get my hat and gloves.'

In the quiet of her bedroom, the one she had always occupied when staying in Grosvenor Square, Daisy checked her appearance in the cheval mirror, adjusting her hat so that it perched on top of her hair, which Beatrice had put up for her earlier that morning. She felt slightly uncomfortable in a silk gown that was at least a size too large for her and had to be cinched in at the waist with a cummerbund, and her tanned face looked oddly out of place beneath a wide-brimmed hat trimmed with flowers and ostrich feathers. Perhaps Rupert found her too much changed now, and unattractive. The war had altered both of them. Rupert's boyish charm was gone, perhaps forever, and he seemed like a stranger. She left the sanctity of her room to join him in the vestibule.

He proffered his arm. ‘I won't keep you out too long, Daisy. I expect you're still rather tired after all the travelling you've done.'

She was inexplicably touched by this sudden show of consideration, and she felt tears stinging the backs
of her eyes. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to smile. ‘I'm tougher than I look, Rupert.'

Sedgwick, the Pendletons' butler in Grosvenor Square, hobbled forward to open the heavy double doors and Rupert thanked him with a warmth that had been lacking when addressing his mother or Daisy. ‘How are the rheumatics, Sedgwick? Not troubling you too much, I hope.'

‘Not too bad, sir. I'm always better in the warm weather.' Sedgwick returned his smile with the indulgence of a much older man speaking to a favoured child. ‘It's good to have you home again, sir.'

‘It's good to be home, Sedgwick.' Rupert put on his peaked cap and stepped out into the sunshine with Daisy on his arm. They descended the steps and crossed the road to enter the gated garden, which seemed to slumber in the hazy afternoon heat. There were a few nannies pushing their charges in their coach-built prams, and some more elderly residents seated on benches in the shade of the London plane trees. It was cool and green and peaceful with the smell of newly mown grass filling the warm air and birdsong wafting on a gentle breeze. They walked in silence for a while. There was so much that Daisy wanted to say, but she could not find the words to express her feelings.

‘I'm afraid I'm not much company,' Rupert said at length. ‘Can't quite get used to being back in London where nothing much seems to have changed.'

‘I know what you mean,' Daisy said softly. ‘I feel the same.'

He stopped and for the first time he looked her in the eyes. ‘Do you really?'

‘Yes, I do. No one here can imagine what life is like across the Channel, or the true suffering of the men in the trenches.'

He dashed his hand across his eyes. ‘It's hell. Sometimes I think I'm a coward because I can't stand the mindless carnage and loss of life. It all seems so bloody pointless.'

She squeezed his hand. ‘I know, and you're not a coward. I won't let you say that about yourself.'

He snatched his hand away and she noticed that it shook as he took a silver cigarette case from his pocket. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?'

‘Of course not, but that's something you never did before.'

‘Almost everyone does over there. It helps to calm the nerves, or so I'm told.' He took a cigarette and held it between his lips while he attempted to strike a match, but his hands trembled so much that it went out and he threw it down with an exclamation of annoyance. Daisy peeled off her gloves and tucked them into her pocket, and taking the matches from him she struck one and lit his cigarette. He inhaled deeply before exhaling a stream of blue smoke into the foliage above them. ‘Thanks.'

She dropped the dead match onto the dried earth beneath the tree. ‘You're the one who needs to rest, Rupert. I've never seen you like this.'

He sucked smoke into his lungs, shaking his head. ‘I'm not fit company for anyone just now. I think I'd like to go on alone, if you don't mind.'

‘But I do mind. Why won't you talk to me? I've seen something of what you must have endured in the trenches. I understand how you must be feeling.'

He turned his head to give her a stony stare. ‘No you don't. Nobody does, least of all a woman. I don't want to hurt you, Daisy, but I'm not the man I was. I don't think I'll ever be that person again. Leave me before I ruin your life.' He walked off, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake.

Daisy stood still, hardly daring to breathe. This was not how she had imagined their meeting, and she could not simply allow him to walk away. She experienced the sudden need to bring everything out into the open, including her own fall from grace. She ran after him, clutching at his sleeve. ‘Wait a moment. What are you saying, Rupert?'

He came to a halt, staring straight ahead and avoiding her gaze. ‘Isn't it obvious? I've changed, Daisy. You don't want to tie yourself for life to a man who can't hold a cup without spilling it down himself; a man who cries in his sleep like a baby.'

She touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I'm so sorry, Rupert. I don't know what to say.'

He removed her hand gently, staring down at the diamond ring as it sparkled in the sunlight. ‘Release me from our engagement, Daisy. I doubt if I'll survive much longer anyway, and you'd be a widow almost before you were a wife. The chances are that very soon I'll be joining Teddy in heaven or hell, wherever the poor chap is now.'

‘Don't say things like that,' Daisy cried, choking on a sob.

‘I'll instruct my solicitor to settle an annuity on you so that you'll be independent for the rest of your life, but let me go with as good a heart as you can, and forgive me.'

Blinded by tears, she tugged at the ring and thrust it into his palm, closing his fingers around it. ‘I do release you from your promise if that's what you want, but please allow me to help you. I've seen men suffering as you are now, and you shouldn't go back to the Front. There are places . . .'

‘You mean a convalescent home or a mental institution. They're for cowards who want to get away from the fighting. I've risen to the rank of major and I'm not going to disgrace my family name by taking the easy way out.' He strode off and she ran after him, causing heads to turn but she did not care. She could not bear to see him in such a distressed state.