Daisy may have heard, from time to time, that she was herself acclaimed as a beauty. But really, if one were to cut off her hair that was always spoken of, she’d be nothing at all. Further, she could not emulate Belle’s warmth. She was cold, and she knew it.Adorablewas the very last word anybody would use to describe her.
Daisy found herself becoming more and more aggravated, and with nobody other than herself. She should not care a jot how besotted Lord Dalton became with Miss Minkerton. It was only, well it was just that Lord Dalton had not seemed to mind her cold manner. He’d even sometimes seemed to admire her particular temperament. They had jousted and circled round each other and he’d pretended it was nothing, but a man could not hide what he put down on a lady’s card, and Lord Dalton had often put down for her supper. It had given her the feeling that she could not be all wrong, if at least one gentleman thought she was right.
Despite not wishing to marry, she supposed it had been a satisfying feeling to be approved of. Especially by one as discerning as Lord Dalton. She must just hope the feeling was not a necessary one.
“You seem to slip into melancholy again, my dear,” Mrs. Jellops said. “If it will cheer you, I will dare to venture into a bathing machine with you on the morrow. As long as Mrs. Nash is there to keep me from drowning.”
Daisy patted her hand. The illustrious Mrs. Nash was the most renowned dipper in Ramsgate. Daisy had first encountered her when she was just a child and found her delightfully forceful in getting the nervous into the sea.
“It cheers me that you would put yourself into such an uncomfortable situation on my account, evenwiththe assistance of Mrs. Nash. I will not let you do it, though. You will comfortably watch from the sand, only daring to get your toes wet, and I will go in with Betsy, as I always do. As you know, she grew up nearby Worthing and has a terrific fondness for swimming.”
Mrs. Jellops shivered over the idea of anybody thinking swimming was terrific. “But you will not stray too far away from the machine? There have been times over the years that I have experienced heart palpitations and had visions of you being carried lifeless from the sea. I have said so to Betsy but she only laughs at the idea.”
Daisy smiled into the darkness and made no promises. She and Betsy werebothvery good swimmers. It had been the one thing she’d ever enjoyed about her summers. In the cold and salty sea, one could so easily forget what awaited one on land. How much fun she’d had, in past summers, she and Betsy diving down to the sand and returning to the surface or laying on their backs and floating on the swells? In the sea, there was no bad-tempered father made worse by his indulgence the night before, no idiot cronies turning up to insist the only cure was to indulge all over again. The blessed sea would be just the thing to clear her mind just now.
After all, what did she have to be unhappy about? Her father was dead and she would soon enough come into her fortune.
All was as it should be.
“We should perhaps go early,” Mrs. Jellops said. “You are technically in mourning and perhaps it will not be the thing to be seen joyfully splashing about.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The cottage, as ill-equipped at it was for human habitation, had at least been supplied with a decanter of brandy. Tate had found it in the main house and promptly installed it in his master’s abode. Tate was turning out to be an exceedingly resourceful fellow and had removed no end of things he reasoned could not be wanted by the mistress. As he told it, it was a naval operation to slip past the enemy line, otherwise known as the ever-patrolling Mrs. Broadbent.
Now, Charles sat outside on the bench near the door to the cottage, brandy in hand and breathing in the salty night air. What a confounded dinner.
The dinner itself had been up to snuff, but the conversation!
It seemed Miss Danworth was intent on informing all and sundry that she would not marry. She was to live some sort of odd spinster existence at the seaside. Or, so she thought. Meanwhile, Burke was equally intent on overturning those plans and securing her.
How had he not noticed Burke’s inclination before Miss Minkerton mentioned it? He supposed it had been there for him to view all along. Did not Burke always secure a dance with Miss Danworth? Did he not sometimes take supper?
Of course, hehadnoticed the supper-taking, and always found himself annoyed by it. But that was only because it would force him to take supper with some other lady of less sense.
Now, he thought he might understand Burke’s melancholy at Newmarket, and last season too. Charles had been sure it had been over some lady or other, he had just not guessed it to be Miss Danworth he pined for.
Had Burke asked and been declined? Was that why he’d been so down in the dumps for the past year or more?
He would like to think so. For one, Burke was the last of his acquaintance who had so far escaped the marital noose. For another, Burke was not at all suited to the lady.
Oh, Burke was a fine enough fellow. But Miss Danworth…she was…well, she was too much woman for him. And Burke, well he was always so damned reasonable. Irritatingly reasonable at times.
Charles paused, a sudden thought occurring to him. If Miss Danworthdiddecide to marry, wouldn’t Burke be the most likely fellow? After her father’s displays of intemperance, would she not seek out a gentleman who would be reliably sensible? Was that not Burke all over? He was not rash or extravagant in anything. Of all his friends, Burke had always been more settled, more staid, more full of commonsense.
He glanced up to her window, though he’d already told himself a hundred times that it was ungentlemanly to do so. Candles were lit and he sometimes saw a shadow pass behind the thin curtains, though he could not make out if it were Miss Danworth or her maid. It was just as well he could not make out who it was, as it would have been even more ungentlemanly if he could. He’d better throw himself into the cold sea on the morrow to cool any inclinations at looking through windows. He supposed Burke had no similar temptations, Burke was too steady for that.
Charles downed the glass of brandy and rose to go inside. “Stop living so much in your thoughts, Dalton,” he said quietly. “It gets you nowhere.”
Chapter Six
It was a hot morning with little breeze, just the sort of day that suited jumping into the sea. After a quick breakfast of tea and toast, Daisy, Mrs. Jellops, and Betsy were driven in the carriage and alighted at the cliff stairs to the seaside. Betsy had been exceedingly pleased—a swim was akin to time off—and she’d done the business of hiring a bathing machine expeditiously, though it took some arm-twisting. According to the young fellow who was sweeping out one of the boxes, ladies were not to be on this particular beach so soon in the morning, as it was the gentlemen’s time to swim.
Both Daisy and Betsy had heard all about it during other summers, but as young men generally spent the early morning in bed recovering from the festivities of the night before, they did not fear encountering a horde of them, or any at all. After that hurdle was jumped, the fellow claimed that there was not even a dipper available yet. He swore he would not be held responsible if both ladies drowned.
This idea set Mrs. Jellops into a terrible fret, but Daisy only laughed and pointed out that while she and Betsy were excellent swimmers, half the dippers were not so gifted. Last summer, one of them had needed rescue herself when she had apparently advertised herself as far more skilled than she actually was. Betsy had spotted her going under at a distance and swam to the rescue.
Though Betsy had pulled the woman to shore on that particular day, this day she was more interested in having been calleda ladyby this young fellow. After that, and some comment Betsy made that Daisy was grateful not to overhear, there was much winking and blushing between them.
