The Christmas Wedding. Dilly Court
been for him to charm her into believing his promises of undying love and devotion.
All these thoughts passed through Daisy’s mind as she lay in her bed with the covers pulled up to her chin and prepared for sleep. It came eventually, and she awakened to the sound of the wind rattling the branches of a tree close to her window, and the scrape of thorns on the windowpanes as the stems of a climbing rose brushed against the glass. It took a moment or two for her to work out why she was sleeping in a strange room, and then the memories of the previous day came flooding back. She sat up and yawned, but the chill in the room was even greater than that of her small bedchamber in Queen Square. Mrs Carrington had not allowed the governess to have the benefit of a fire, no matter how cold it was, and Daisy had often had to break the ice in the pitcher before she could pour the water into the washbasin. She reached for her wrap and was about to get up when someone tapped gently on the door.
‘Come in.’
The door opened and Linnet entered carrying a jug of steaming water in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. ‘I took the liberty of bringing this up to you. The mistress was asking why you wasn’t at breakfast.’
‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Linnet. Thank you.’ Daisy took the cup and saucer from her and sipped the tea. ‘It’s so cold. Is it snowing again?’
Linnet placed the jug on the oak washstand. ‘The east wind got up in the night. It blows in off the sea – straight from Russia, so my pa says. If it goes round to the north, there’ll be more snow.’
‘It feels much colder here than it does in London, but I dare say I’ll get used to it. Would you be kind enough to tell my aunt that I’ll be down soon?’
‘Yes, miss.’ Linnet bobbed a curtsey. ‘I could light the fire for you, if you so wish.’
‘Maybe this evening. We don’t want to waste coal.’
‘There are plenty of logs in the shed. I lit the fires downstairs and helped Hattie to get the range going. She’s still grumbling about it, but I dare say she’ll get used to it, given time.’
Daisy sipped her tea, which was still quite hot and more than welcome. ‘I’m afraid she might leave and return to London. It’s very different here in the heart of the countryside.’
‘There’s plenty who would be more than willing to take her place, miss.’ Linnet backed towards the doorway. ‘There’s not many jobs to be had in Little Creek and times are hard. We just hope that the doctor will stay, but people are saying he’ll go back to London.’
‘I think that’s up to Dr Neville.’ Daisy placed the cup and saucer on a small table near the window. ‘I must get dressed and I mustn’t keep you from your work, but it’s good to have you here, Linnet. We need someone young and capable like you.’
Linnet’s plain face flushed scarlet. ‘Ta, miss.’ She hurried from the room and her booted feet clattered on the bare boards as she hurried downstairs.
Eleanora was about to rise from the table when Daisy walked into the small dining room. ‘Your uncle has been up for hours,’ she said, sighing. ‘I hope he isn’t going continue like this or I’ll never get any peace.’
Daisy suppressed a smile. ‘Where is he now, Aunt?’
‘Goodness knows. He put on his hat and coat and went out muttering something about fishing, although he’s never shown any interest in such a thing before.’
Daisy took a seat at the table and helped herself to porridge, adding a generous amount of sugar and cream. ‘It would be good for him to have something to occupy his time. A man who’s worked all his life might find it hard to do nothing.’
‘I suppose so, and we could eat the fish he caught. At least it gets him out from under my feet and I have such a lot to do.’
‘I can help you.’
‘Thank you, dear, but I need to do things my way, and I’ll get the village girl to help. She has to learn our ways.’
‘You mean Linnet. She has a name, Aunt.’
‘I don’t want to be too familiar. Servants get above themselves in such a situation.’
‘You call Hattie by her Christian name.’
‘Hattie has been with me for twenty years or more, and I don’t want to lose her. Anyway, I know how to handle my servants, thank you, Daisy. Why don’t you wrap up and go for a walk? Get to know the area, and if you see your uncle tell him to keep away from the river-bank. He can’t swim.’ Eleanora left the room and Daisy was able to finish her breakfast in peace.
She was about to clear the table when Linnet appeared, carrying a tray. ‘I’ll do that, miss. Your aunt sent me.’
Daisy knew better than to argue. ‘Thank you.’ She hesitated in the doorway. ‘I seem to have nothing to do so I thought I’d walk to Creek Hall and fetch my brother. Which way is it?’
‘Creek Hall is on the edge of the wood overlooking the saltings. Just follow the creek.’
‘The saltings?’
‘It’s a salt marsh that’s covered by the sea at high tide. It’s not the place to go walking unless you know the area well.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not that adventurous, but I will take a stroll.’
Having left Linnet to do her work Daisy retrieved her bonnet and cape from the row of pegs in the entrance hall before setting off. The sun was shining and the threat of more snow seemed to have passed, but the bitter east wind made her eyes water. The ground was uneven and she had to take care not to trip over the ridges created by wagon wheels or to step into the ruts filled with snow melt. Despite the chill, the air was bracing and the sun’s rays reflected in the water, trapping the pale blue of the winter sky in the ripples, although as she approached the woods the shadows grew longer and the water lost its sparkle, appearing muddy and menacing. Daisy walked on, wrapping her woollen cape tightly around her. She quickened her pace and it was a relief to come out into the open where the saltings stretched out in front of her in a mass of vegetation growing haphazardly like a jigsaw puzzle tossed into the brackish water.
To her left she spotted Creek Hall, standing on its own at the edge of the wood with an uninterrupted view of the salt marsh. Sea birds circled overhead, mewing and crying like lost souls, while others waded in the shallow water, probing the mud with their long beaks in the search for food.
As she drew nearer she could see that the carriage sweep was losing the battle with couch grass and weeds, and some of the windowpanes in the upper floor were missing, but there was something about the warm red bricks of the Tudor house that spoke of permanence and solidity – two factors that appealed strongly to Daisy. She trod the gravel path, avoiding the patches of fast-melting snow, and went to knock on the door. After a while it was opened by a young woman who bore a striking resemblance to Linnet.
‘Good morning,’ Daisy said, smiling. ‘I came to see if my brother, Dr Marshall, is still here.’
‘You’d best come in then.’ The girl, who was probably a year or two older than Linnet, stood aside, staring curiously at Daisy as she crossed the threshold.
Daisy returned the stare. ‘Are you related to Linnet Fox, by any chance?’
A slow smile curved the girl’s generous lips. ‘I’m her sister, Dove.’
‘Dove?’
‘Yes, miss. Our mum loves birds. We all had such names.’
‘Dove, who is it?’ Nick’s voice rang out from somewhere at the far end of the entrance hall.
‘It’s Miss Marshall, Doctor. She’s come for her brother.’
Dressed for riding, Nick came to greet her. ‘Miss Marshall, this is an unexpected pleasure. I hope you weren’t worried when Toby failed to return home last night.’
Daisy