was consuming her. ‘Are you married, Lawson?’
He guffawed and almost spooked the horse. ‘Good God, no. Whatever gave you that idea?’
She shrugged in the darkness, but felt anxiety slough off her like a constricting skin, since he was manifestly not lying. ‘Because you’ve never taken me to your home. I wondered if you were hiding a wife there. I just wonder if you are serious about me, if you really care for me.’
‘Oh, I’m in dead earnest, my love,’ he answered directly, looking into her wide eyes. ‘But my home is like the Sack of Carthage and you would not be impressed … Besides, there are two more reasons why I ain’t taken you there. Firstly, whilst I can hardly wait to lure you into my bed, I want to behave like a gentleman. You see, despite this ardent desire to bed you, I respect you and regard you as a lady, even though sometimes you don’t quite see yourself as one.’
‘Oh, Lawson … I appreciate I’m not a lady born and bred, but I do try … I do try to be like a lady,’ she protested.
‘So would you like me to show you my home?’
‘I’d love you to.’
‘Right. I shall make a very determined effort to have the house cleaned up and made presentable. Then I shall invite you to dinner and you will dine like a lady. We shall have a very romantic evening of it and I might even ply you with strong drink …’
‘Strong drink?’ She chuckled at the inference. ‘Shall I need strong drink?’
The following night, Sarah went to Daisy’s room for a gossip and to have a moan about another of the girls. They dispensed with those trivialities quickly and Daisy saw this as an opportunity to confess what she should have confessed weeks ago.
‘Sarah,’ she began quietly, taking Sarah’s hand and holding it gently. ‘There’s something I have to tell you. I hope you won’t despise me but it’s been worrying me exactly how to tell you. So I’ve decided to come straight out with it … I’ve been seeing Lawson Maddox … regularly, in my free time … I know how you’ve admired Lawson yourself, Sarah, so I think it’s only fair I should let you know … We’re in love and very serious about each other. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if—’
‘You’re courting Lawson?’ Sarah said tersely. ‘Even though you know I fancy him? That’s not very nice, our Daisy. That’s not a very nice trick to pull across your sister.’ She withdrew her hand from Daisy’s, aggrieved, and shuffled agitatedly on the bed.
‘There was no intention to slight you, Sarah.’ Daisy was struggling to state her case without seeming insensitive. ‘It just happened. We met and suddenly there was this magic … Oh, I love him dearly …’
‘And does he love you?’
‘Oh, yes. He says so – often … Oh, please don’t be resentful, Sarah. I had hoped for your good wishes.’
‘You told me once that gentlemen don’t marry servants.’
‘And what I said holds true. But Lawson is not gentry born and bred. His father was only a corn merchant. But Lawson’s done well for himself. For all his hob-nobbing with the well-to-do, he doesn’t see any distinction between us.’
‘Lucky you,’ Sarah said scornfully and made as if to rise from Daisy’s bed.
Daisy took her hand again to prevent her going. ‘Wish me well, Sarah,’ she pleaded. ‘You know that Lawson is much too old for you anyway.’
Sarah shrugged but remained where she was. ‘All the same, it doesn’t mean to say you can’t fancy somebody older.’
Daisy could see from the look in Sarah’s piqued eyes that she was coming round, that she just wanted a fuss made of her. ‘You’re such a beautiful creature, our Sarah, men will be falling over themselves to win you. I bet the boys are already lining up.’
The compliment elicited a smile from Sarah. She shrugged again, shyly. ‘There is one lad who comes to the kitchen most days. One of the delivery lads.’
‘Oh? How old?’
‘Eighteen.’
‘That’s more the age for you, our Sarah. Far more sensible. What’s his name?’
‘Roland.’
‘So who does he work for?’
‘Parker’s.’
‘And you like him?’
‘Yes. He makes me laugh.’
Daisy nodded her assent, glad that they’d got that one big hurdle out of the way, content to condone Sarah’s flirting with a grocery boy. ‘Well, that’s nice. But don’t get too serious at your age. There’ll be plenty more, I promise.’
Lawson did not employ a live-in maid-of-all-work to do his domestic chores, for such an arrangement would have been unseemly for a bachelor of his standing. He chose not to employ a man-servant either, or a married couple to look after him. Hence, he lived his life alone. His laundry he sent out regularly and usually he dined at whichever hostelry he happened to be in when he was hungry.
Although he had some respect for his surroundings, it was only when he sent for Molly Kettle and her young daughter, Flossie to clean for him that the house became truly tidy. Flossie was the pretty girl who had cursorily inspected Daisy as she sat in his cabriolet in Albert Street while he wheedled seriously overdue rent out of her mother. The cleaning was in lieu of part of the rent that Molly owed.
This particular series of cleaning events, as well as some serious redecorating by a local tradesman, took some weeks and Lawson, whenever he saw Daisy, would enthuse about how fine and dandy it was all turning out.
Daisy was completely overwhelmed that he was going to all this trouble to impress her. The very thought made her smile with satisfaction. Marriage had to be his intention. If he merely wanted to seduce her he could have rented a room at the Dudley Arms Hotel or at any number of inns in the area. But he wouldn’t do that. Already he’d told her he wanted to be gentlemanly; he wanted to treat her like a lady and she relished his consideration.
Not that she would have baulked at being seduced before her wedding night. She knew that a girl’s initiation must happen sooner or later, and suspected that it would be memorable wherever and whenever it happened. She imagined that farm girls who lost their maidenhood in some dusty hayloft recalled it just as readily and with as much pleasure as if it had occurred in the warmth and luxury of their master’s and mistress’s soft featherbed. Daisy knew from talking to girls that some of them used the graves of the dear departed in the town’s bone yards as a bed. But such licentious outdoor shenanigans were not for her; they were hardly the antics of a lady.
Meanwhile, a dinner party had been planned at the Cooksons’ for 16th March. Invited guests were the wealthy and very eminent Mr and Mrs Alexander Gibson, Alderman and Mrs George Folkes, whom Daisy had never seen before, and Mr and Mrs Ernest Bagnall of Tipton, whom she had. The best silver was of course to be used. On the morning of the party
