Rose felt a lump in her throat when she saw Daisy attired in her wedding finery. She had paid for everything – the gown, the reception and the flowers to decorate the church. Rose was glad she had been left that legacy which enabled her to pay for the wedding arrangements. She was to act as bridesmaid. Her gown was of pink silk with white lace panels and a high-boned lace collar. Her cartwheel hat of Leghorn straw was decorated with large pink silk roses.
Matthew Jarvis entered to say that Captain Cathcart had arrived to take them to the church.
Harry was driving his Rolls, looking very handsome in morning dress. He drove very slowly towards the City, not wanting the ladies’ hats to be blown off as they sat in the open car.
“You haven’t heard from your family,” said Rose. “I do hope they got their invitations.”
“I’m sure they’ll all be at the church,” said Daisy, knowing full well her family had not replied because they could not write and had probably found someone literate to read out the invitation to them. The Hadshire servants had all been invited and were following the car in the earl’s carriages.
“Becket still insists he has no family,” said Rose. “What is his background? Where does he come from?”
“He never speaks about it,” said Daisy. “He talks about having been a soldier once, but that’s all and he gets angry if I try to probe further.”
Bouquets held in silver holders had gone out of fashion. Daisy carried a spray of lilac and hothouse roses.
The church was a small one off Cheapside. Crowds began to gather on the street outside to watch the wedding party. Harry was best man, so he parked the car and told one of the earl’s footmen that he would pay him if he stayed outside the church and guarded it. Then he hurried inside so that he could take his place at the altar with Becket and leave Daisy and Rose to make a slow and stately entrance.
“What’s that awful smell?” whispered Becket when Harry joined him at the altar.
Harry was sure the smell was coming from Becket’s prospective in-laws, whom he had spotted crowded into a pew. “Must be drains,” he whispered back, not wanting to alarm Becket about Daisy’s family.
The service was somewhat marred by Daisy’s father bawling out the hymns in a loud drunken voice. I wish I had never urged her to invite him, thought Rose miserably. He’s drunk already. What’s he going to be like at the reception?
But when the service was over and Rose walked down the aisle on Harry’s arm behind Daisy and Becket and heard the bells pealing out and the organ playing, she felt a rush of gladness that, despite the drunken singing, everything had gone smoothly.
¦
She had a nervous moment at the reception when Daisy’s father, Bert Levine, insisted on making a speech. “I’d like ter say – ” he began.
“Sit down, Dad,” yelled one of Daisy’s small brothers. “You’re as pissed as a newt.”
The father rumbled round the table to where the offender was sitting and clipped him on the ear. Then he staggered back to the top table. Rose counted Daisy’s brothers and sisters: three boys and four girls. Mrs Levine must have a hard life, she thought. Daisy’s mother was a vast woman dressed in a purple velvet gown showing patches of wear.
“As I was sayin’,” said Bert, “our little Daisy ‘as done us proud. As I was sayin’…” He suddenly looked around the room in a dazed way and then slowly keeled over, to be caught by Kerridge just before he hit the floor. Kerridge waved to two of the footmen, who rushed forward and pulled Bert into a corner, where he lay throughout the rest of the wedding breakfast, snoring loudly.
At the end of the proceedings, Daisy, followed by Hunter, retired to the cloakroom to be changed into her going-away clothes. Harry was paying for the honeymoon: two weeks in a grand hotel in Brighton.
They all trooped out to the car and carriages to see Daisy off Harry took the wheel to drive them to the station. Rose hugged Daisy and whispered, “Come and see me often. I’ll miss you so much.”
Daisy and Becket got into the car. The guests cheered. The car moved off. Scruffy children ran after it, shouting, “Hard up! Hard up!” and Becket grinned and tossed pennies to them.
Rose watched until they were out of sight. Then Matthew Jarvis escorted her to one of the earl’s carriages. Madame Bailloux and Hunter got in with her. What am I going to do without Daisy? wondered Rose and tried not to cry.
¦
Later that day, Matthew called on Rose brandishing a telegram. “Lord and Lady Hadshire are returning, my lady. They will be here in two days’ time.”
When Matthew had left, Madame Bailloux, who was sitting with Rose, said, “I may as well make my preparations to return to Paris. You will not need me any more.”
“I am now in need of a companion,” said Rose. “Would you consider the position?”
The Frenchwoman wanted very much to return home, but the thought of preserving her savings while she enjoyed free board was too tempting. “If your mama, the countess, agrees, I will stay for a little. Perhaps we should go to a theatre or some amusement tonight to lift the spirits. We have been confined to the house for quite a while.”
Rose brightened. “My parents have a box at the opera. We could go there.”
“Excellent. I will ask Mr Jarvis to arrange a carriage for us. We will go
The opera was
She lowered them and said, “So many people are staring at us. Why is that?”
“I am considered scandalous,” said Rose. “They have no doubt read in the newspapers about the events in Paris. I am afraid my parents will really have to send me to India now. I have become unmarriageable.”
“The good captain seems taken with you. He is not what I would call conventional.”
“I do not think he wants to marry me,” said Rose. “We were engaged, but only in name. We arranged it to stop me being sent to India.”
“If Captain Cathcart agreed to such a scheme, then he really must care for you.”
“I think I irritate him, madame.”
“You may call me Celine. We are friends,
“I hope so,” said Rose and felt a little of her feeling over the loss of Daisy dissipate.
As they stood outside the opera house after the performance, waiting for their carriage, Rose felt the same frisson of fear she had experienced on the quay in Paris and looked wildly around.
“What is the matter?” asked Celine.
“Just a feeling,” said Rose. “I had the same feeling in Paris just before I was pushed in the river.” She could see the earl’s carriage inching through the press of cars and carriages. Rose scanned the crowd. Apart from the people leaving the opera, there were crowds of onlookers, come to gaze at the fine gowns and jewels of the ladies.
She sighed with relief when at last they were safely in the carriage. “Probably my imagination,” she said.
When they arrived at the town house, the first footman told them that Captain Cathcart was waiting for them in the drawing room.
“Don’t tell him anything about my fears,” said Rose to Celine, as they mounted the stairs. “I do not want to be sent away to anywhere nasty again.”
“Why did you go out?” demanded Harry as soon as they walked in.
“I was restless,” said Rose. “It is miserable being confined here.”
“Someone tried to kill you in Paris and that someone has probably followed us back to London. I wish we knew the real identity of Dolores Duval. I wonder if she was English, but then why would she turn up in Brittany?”
“My parents are due back,” said Rose. “What am I to do? They will either send me to India or back to that convent.”
“I will discuss matters with them when they return. You must be sent somewhere safe.”
“I am dreading their return,” said Rose in a small voice. “What if they send Madame Bailloux away?”
