The Christmas Wedding. Dilly CourtЧитать онлайн книгу.
upset, dear,’ Eleanora said softly. ‘Think it over, but you really don’t have much alternative now that you’re not living in Queen Square. We wouldn’t think of leaving you on your own in the city, and you have no income to support yourself.’
‘I spent years at Miss Lonsdale’s Academy learning Latin and Greek and solving complicated mathematical problems. Are you saying that it’s all been a waste of time?’
‘Calm down,’ Toby said, chuckling. ‘I don’t know why you’re getting yourself in such a stew. You were only a governess, after all.’
Daisy knew that Toby had not spoken out of spite, but his words seemed to echo Mrs Carrington’s opinion of the girl her son had wanted to wed, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.
‘You’re right,’ she said slowly. ‘I was just a governess, but I’ll prove one day that I can do more than that. In the meantime,’ she added, turning to her aunt and forcing a smile, ‘I will come with you, of course, and I’ll find out if living in the country suits me.’
Despite the fact that Toby was at home for Christmas it was going to be a subdued celebration. Eleanora’s mind was obviously on the forthcoming move to the country, and she spent most of her time sorting through her clothes or packing up small objects that had some sentimental value. Sidney disappeared to the pub at the first opportunity on Christmas Day and Toby went with him, leaving Daisy to wonder how things had come to this. Christmas was supposed to be a joyous occasion, but she had been jilted by the man she loved and had lost her job. It was not so much the money, it was the fact that she had grown fond of young Timothy, and he returned the affection. She had looked forward to being part of the Carrington family – now that was never going to happen. She was emotionally bruised, and although she tried to be positive, she could not summon up any enthusiasm for life in the wilds of Essex.
But it was Christmas Day, and Uncle Sidney and Toby were in a merry mood when they returned from the Earl of Effingham, having imbibed rather too much rum punch. Aunt Eleanora was not amused, but the table was set and, as was their custom, Hattie and Jonah sat down with them to enjoy the roast turkey with all the trimmings. Uncle Sidney did his best to be jolly, but Daisy was very conscious of the underlying current of anxiety felt by all at the move. Jonah was sullen and silent throughout the meal, and Daisy could feel his eyes upon her although he turned away hastily when she glanced at him. Toby was in fine fettle and did his best to raise their spirits, but it was a relief when the last of the Christmas pudding and brandy butter was eaten. Toby left, having a prior engagement to meet up with friends, while Eleanora and Sidney retired to the parlour, no doubt to snooze by the fire. Hattie went to the kitchen to begin the washing-up, and Daisy was clearing the table when Jonah closed the dining-room door.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded. ‘I have to take these dishes to the kitchen.’
Jonah sidled up to her, grinning stupidly. ‘It’s a pity we got no mistletoe. I’d have an excuse to kiss you, miss.’
‘You’re drunk.’ Daisy stepped aside. ‘You’d best get on with whatever you’re supposed to be doing, Jonah.’
‘I’ve got money saved and Mr Marshall has persuaded the new owner to take me on. In less than a year I reckon I’ll be managing the business, and we could live here above the shop. I’d make you a good husband, Daisy.’ He moved closer and attempted to put his arm around her but she pushed him away.
‘It’s the wine talking, Jonah. I’ll excuse you because it’s Christmas, but you’re forgetting yourself.’
His smiled faded and his lips twisted into a grimace. ‘Not good enough for you, am I? What happened to the toff who was supposed to marry you?’
‘You’ve been listening at keyholes,’ Daisy said angrily. ‘It’s none of your business. I’m sorry if it hurts your feelings, but I don’t want to marry you and never will.’ She dodged round the table and opened the door. ‘Come one step closer and I’ll scream. My uncle wouldn’t take kindly to this sort of behaviour.’
‘You’ll be sorry. One day you’ll regret turning me down, Miss Marshall. I might have a twisted body, but I’m nobody’s fool. You’ll seek me out one day, begging for my help and see what you get then.’ He brushed past her and limped off, cursing beneath his breath.
Daisy sat down at the table and reached for her wine glass. It was still half full and she downed it in one gulp. At least Jonah had helped her to decide what course she would take. The wilds of Essex seemed much more attractive now.
Jonah did not bother her again, although she was very conscious of his presence every time she went through the shop, but she did her best to ignore him. The next two weeks were spent sorting out what they would take to the new house, filling even more packing cases and trunks. Each day Daisy hoped she might get word from Julian, and every time she heard a male voice in the shop below, she strained her ears, willing it to be the man who had professed to love her. But Julian Carrington had not had the decency to write and apologise for her sudden dismissal, or even to enquire if she had found another position. For all he knew she might be selling bootlaces on street corners or working in the nearby blacking factory. Daisy had to face the fact that he had gone to Paris to take up his new position, leaving her to break her heart and suffer the humiliation of being jilted.
On a bitterly cold day in the middle of January, Daisy and her uncle and aunt left their home in Whitechapel. Toby had not officially started his new position at the hospital, and as he had time on his hands he had decided to accompany them. Daisy suspected that his decision was motivated more by curiosity than anything else, but Toby had said vaguely that he had a friend who lived somewhere in that part of Essex and he might pay him a visit. Her gregarious brother seemed to have friends everywhere and Daisy had not questioned him further. It was good to have the family together again, no matter what the reason.
It was snowing again, but Jonah insisted on seeing them off. ‘You’ll return soon enough,’ he whispered as Daisy edged past him. ‘And I’ll be waiting.’
She did not look back as Toby handed her into the waiting hackney carriage, but even as they drove off she was aware that Jonah Sawkins was standing in the shop doorway, watching until they were out of sight.
‘Cheer up, Daisy,’ Toby said, grinning. ‘You might even enjoy living in Little Creek. Let’s hope it isn’t as dull as it sounds.’
As the train pulled out of Bishopsgate Station, Daisy’s last hope of seeing Julian evaporated like the great puffs of smoke and steam belching from the massive engine. Although she knew it was unlikely, she had thought he might have written to her. She had been tempted to return the ring, but she would not give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his cowardly behaviour. It was tucked away in her jewellery box, along with a few cheap trinkets and the rope of pearls that her mother had worn on her wedding day. Daisy sighed and settled down to gaze out of the window.
The train trundled through rural Essex, stopping at every station to disgorge people and livestock onto the platforms, and to pick up more passengers. Daisy stared out of the window at the countryside as it flashed past, but all that registered were the stark bare branches of the trees, stretching towards the grey sky like dead men’s fingers. Ploughed fields lay dormant, imprisoned by neatly trimmed hedgerows, and muddy rivers slithered like snakes, heading for the sea.
Daisy had seen little of Toby during the journey as he had joined a group of young men in another compartment and she could hear their raucous laughter above the clickety-clack of iron wheels as they crossed the points, and her uncle’s stertorous snores. Aunt Eleanora was supposed to be reading a novel, but she too kept nodding off, leaving Daisy alone with her thoughts.
When they arrived at Little Creek Station Daisy stepped out onto the platform, taking deep breaths of the ice-cold air, sharpened by the briny tang of the sea and the smell of brackish mud from the saltings.
‘Godforsaken place,’ Toby said as he hefted a couple of carpet bags onto the platform. ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing, Uncle?’
‘Take deep