Snobbery With Violence - M. C. Beaton [75]
Becket nodded.
“Going to leave the captain?”
“Never. What about you? You could buy a shop.”
“No, I’ll stick with Lady Rose. She needs me. If we’re going to run away to London, she’ll need some money and so will I.”
“Thank goodness you had those corsets on.”
“She’d just given them to me, too. She hates them, but I felt so grand even though they were uncomfortable. Choc?”
“Thanks,” said Becket, picking one out. “Someone’s coming along the corridor. They’ve stopped outside the door.”
“Get into the bed,” said Daisy, whipping back the covers.
There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” called Daisy.
Curzon, the butler, walked in. “I know the true story of how you saved your mistress’s life. I have always said that breeding will out. I would like you to accept this as a token of my esteem.” He held out a carved cigarette-box.
“Thank you,” said Daisy in a weak voice because Becket’s body under the covers was crammed against her own and she wanted Curzon to go.
To her relief, the butler said, “I can see that you are still very shocked. Be always assured that your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you.”
Daisy waited until she heard Curzon’s footsteps go along the corridor and down the steps and then she whipped back the covers. “Get out of here!”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” complained Becket. “I was suffocating. Any cigarettes in that box?”
Daisy opened the lid and sniffed. “Turkish. The best.”
“Let’s have one, then. Do you smoke?”
“Now and then.”
He lit cigarettes for both of them. “Will you write to me?” he asked.
“Yes, I can write now,” said Daisy proudly.
“Aren’t you going to give some of that money to your family?”
“Naw! Da would drink it all. So would Ma, come to think of it. Oh, maybe I’ll go down there and see if I can slip something to the children.”
“Daisy, do you diink that one day, maybe one day, we—”
The inner door opened and Rose walked in. “You should not be here, Becket,” she said. “I think Daisy deserves to enjoy your company, but if my mother should find you here, I would be in more trouble than I am already. And smoking, as well!”
Becket left. Daisy began to get up. “No, stay where you are,” said Rose. “I can put myself to bed. My parents’ servants have packed most of our things, so you do not need to exert yourself.”
“You’ll be glad to get out of here,” said Daisy.
“Yes, of course I will. Good night.”
Rose trailed off to her own room and sat down at the dressing-table. Back to London tomorrow. No more frights and alarms, no more Kerridge and his policemen, no more Captain Harry Cathcart. Why did life suddenly feel so flat?
EPILOGUE
There’s something undoubtedly in a fine air,
To know how to smile and be able to stare,
High breeding is something, but well-bred or not,
In the end the one question is, what have you got.
So needful it is to have money, heigh-ho!
So needful it is to have money.
And the angels in pink and the angels in blue,
In muslins and moires so lovely and new,
What is it they want, and so wish you to guess,
But if you have money, the answer is Yes.
So needful, they tell you, is money, heigh-ho!
So needful it is to have money.
-A. H. CLOUGH
The next morning, everyone was up early. Everyone seemed so glad to get out of the castle at last.
Lady Polly was fussing about her daughter as a footman helped Rose into the carriage. Rose knew her parents were feeling extremely guilty at having sent her to the castle in the first place, and she hoped to work on that guilt when they got to London.
Rose looked out of the carriage window. Harry was just emerging from the castle, pulling on his driving gloves. Infuriating man. Perhaps if she went to some parties in London he might be there. It would be pleasant to let him know just how infuriating he was.
“What I don’t like,” grumbled the earl as the carriage jolted forwards, “is Hedley being so cheerful about getting his wife’s money.”
“He won’t live long to enjoy it,” said Rose. “The syphilis is already beginning to eat up his appearance.”
“That’s enough of that,” snapped the earl.