“She’s being crushed between the ship and the dock,” screamed Rose.
But Becket was already running down stone steps cut into the dock. As Daisy surfaced, he leaned out over the water and grabbed a handful of her clothes and dragged her onto the lower steps.
The duchess’s footmen nipped down the stairs and helped Becket carry Daisy up.
On the quay, Daisy was promptly sick again, throwing up what looked like a gallon of salt water. The duchess joined Rose. “Drunk, I suppose,” she said crossly. “We’ll need to stay at the Calais Hotel for the night. What a bore.”
¦
Daisy was in disgrace. She was told to stay in her bedroom that evening while the rest had dinner. A tray would be sent up to her.
She picked miserably at her food. She could tell somehow that the duchess felt she had behaved like some low-class creature.
There was a soft knock at the door and she called, “Come in.”
Becket entered. “What happened?” he asked.
“If I tell you, promise you won’t say anything.”
Daisy told him about the belladonna and Becket laughed and laughed until Daisy began to laugh as well.
Finally Becket said, “Were you able to eat anything?”
“Yes, I made a good meal. I like those little birds’ legs in garlic butter.”
“Those would be frogs’ legs.”
“What? I’ve eaten frogs’ legs!” Daisy put a handkerchief to her mouth.
“You are not going to be sick,” said Becket severely. “There’s nothing up with frogs’ legs. I had some in the kitchen. You’ll need to act like a cosmopolitan lady if we’re going to run this salon.”
“Oh, Becket,” sighed Daisy, lowering the handkerchief. “We’re really going to be free at last.”
“It’s going to be a funny sort of freedom,” said Becket. “We’ll need to be responsible for our heating and lighting bills, the rent, our food, our clothes – all those things that servants don’t need to worry about.”
“But we’ll be able to get married.”
“That’s a plus. What about a kiss, Daisy?”
They stood up and Daisy put her arms about him. Then they stiffened as they heard an autocratic voice coming along the corridor outside. “I’m just going to see if that tiresome companion of yours has recovered.”
“Her Grace!” hissed Daisy.
Becket dived under the bed, just as the door opened.
“So how are you?” demanded the duchess.
“Much better, Your Grace.”
“I was going to send you back, but Lady Rose told me how brave and courageous you’ve been in the past. I admire that in a girl. But do try to brace yourself. We leave tomorrow. Be down for breakfast at six. Good night.”
“Good night,” echoed Daisy.
As the door closed, Becket began to ease himself out from under the bed.
Then, as the door opened again, he slid himself back under the bed.
Harry walked in. He stood in the doorway. “Are you feeling better, Daisy?”
“Yes, thank you, Captain.”
“Then we shall see you at breakfast. I assume those are Becket’s boots sticking out from under your bed. Come along, Becket.”
Becket emerged again, looking sheepish. “We weren’t up to anything, sir. Honestly. I came to see if Miss Levine was all right and heard Her Grace approaching and knew it would look bad.”
“Don’t do it again. You should know better. Follow me.”
Daisy scowled when they had left. When she and Becket were married, they could do what they wanted and see each other as much as they wanted, and no amount of expensive meals and pretty clothes could compete with that.
¦
They arrived in Paris at the Gare du Nord the next day and got into carriages to bear them and their mountain of luggage to the Hotel de Crillon. The hotel had originally been the home of the Comte de Crillon and was built by the most famous architect of the day, commissioned by Louis XV. The hotel was seized during the French Revolution and the statue of Louis XV on the Place de la Concorde outside the hotel was pulled down and later replaced by a 3300 BC obelisk presented by Sultan Mehmet Ali in 1831.
As they were led up to their suite, Rose glanced in at the salons on the first floor and began to feel like a country cousin for the first time in her life. The ladies were so beautifully gowned and elegant.
Rose was tired after the train journey from Calais and Daisy was feeling exhausted after her adventures. They were both dismayed when the duchess visited them to say she had employed a maid for them and they were to be in their finest, for they were going to dine at Maxim’s.
“Why Maxim’s?” asked Rose plaintively. “We are tired and hoped to have a simple supper in the rooms.”
“Nonsense. Captain Cathcart says that the French lawyer won’t give us the direction of this Madame de Peurey. All the famous belles coquettes go to Maxim’s. Someone is bound to have heard of her.” She stood aside and ushered a petite little woman into the room. “This is your lady’s maid, Odette. We shall all meet in Le Salon des Aigles on the first floor in two hours. But not you, Miss Levine. After your recent adventures, I feel sure that you would be better remaining quietly here.”
“She means I’m not good enough,” said Daisy when the duchess had retired. “I may as well tell you, Rose, that I have spoken to Becket and we’re going to set up that dress salon with Miss Friendly. We’re going to get married and we’ll be our own bosses.”
Rose was dismayed. She realized in that moment how much she relied on Daisy’s chirpy company. “I shall miss you,” she said. Then she rallied. “Of course I shall buy all my gowns from you.”
Odette turned out to have some words of English and Rose had learned enough French from her governess to communicate with her. She felt lowered by the look of dismay on the maid’s face as she pulled out gown after gown. “What about the Worth gown?” she asked.
“Too, how you say, out of fashion. But I work quickly.” She pulled out a long white satin gown and then a blue one. She opened a large sewing box and got busily to work, cutting and pinning and sewing.
Daisy began to worry. Was Miss Friendly really that good?
As Rose and Daisy watched the little maid working away, they were unaware that Rose had been in the society pages of the
But Harry got the news from Becket and swore under his breath. Becket had found some English newspapers in the front hall of the hotel. Harry decided he would need to be sure that he was with Rose at all times and that she did not wander off. He knew she had bought a guidebook to Paris at the station and had voiced a desire to see Notre Dame, among other places.
When he entered Le Salon des Aigles later to meet the rest of the party, he decided not to tell Rose she had been featured in the newspaper. She would only worry. The salon got its name from the medallions depicting Fortitude, Truth, Wisdom and Abundance, each flanked by large eagles.
He stood up as Rose entered the room, thinking she had never looked so beautiful. Her white gown was cut low and clung to her figure in the new long, soft line. It was decorated round the neck and down the front with blue fleurs-de-lis. A collar of pearls set off the whiteness of her throat, and pearls were woven into her brown hair. Over one gloved arm, she carried a ruffled chiffon cape of the same blue as the fleurs-de-lis. She moved gracefully towards him over the Aubusson carpets.
He kissed her gloved hand. “I have never seen you look so fine,” he said.
Rose smiled but reflected she had never felt so uncomfortable. Odette had lashed her tightly into a long corset and she wished she could escape somewhere and loosen the ties.
The duchess made her entrance. She was wearing a grey silk gown laden down with jewels. Again, she had so many diamonds on her head, her neck and about her person that Rose wondered how she could even move. Her jewels sparked fire from the Bohemian crystal objects which decorated the room.
“So we are all present?” said the Duchess. “Good. We’re off to Maxim’s.”
