Daisy’s Betrayal

She chuckled. ‘I’m on honeymoon.’

‘The honeymoon begins at Bath,’ he proclaimed. ‘In earnest.’

She smiled and nodded acquiescently, then looked out of the window at the dismal hulk of a gasometer and the lines of drab houses along the Paddington Canal.

‘How long is this journey likely to take, Lawson?’

‘About two and a half hours. Sit back and enjoy the scenery.’

In no time they had travelled through the pleasant suburbs of New Kensington and Notting Hill, through fields verdant in their new spring greenery, and had reached Ealing Station. Daisy sat with her head against the soft squab of the headrest as they crossed over the Thames at Maidenhead. They traversed some spectacular countryside adorned with villages, farmsteads and quaint church towers that peeped over the tops of trees like lookouts. The river appeared again as soon as they pulled out of Reading Station. Daisy was fascinated by the ever-changing vista of a countryside she had never expected to see.

At Pangbourne an elderly gentlemen entered their compartment. A profusion of untrimmed hairs sprouted from his nose and ears. He raised his hat to Daisy and offered a polite good morning to Lawson, then settled down to read his newspaper. His presence inhibited their intimate discussion of the treats she could expect in Bath but not her affectionate smiles that flashed across the compartment from time to time. Lawson tried to strike up a conversation with the man, but he was more interested in his newspaper. However, they did glean from him that the train would stop at Swindon long enough to visit the refreshment rooms.

The first-class side of the refreshment room was exquisite, elaborately decorated in arabesques and supported by columns painted to imitate inlaid woods. The mirrors, the hangings and the furniture would have done justice to the dining rooms of nobility. Daisy sat at a table while Lawson went to the counter and was rapidly served by an obliging young woman. He bought a selection of sandwiches, two Banbury cakes, a pot of tea and a pint of pale ale. Soon they were back in their compartment and on their way.

Daisy knew they had arrived at Bath when the train slowed down as it emerged from a deep, beautifully landscaped cutting. The line of carriages, like a regal procession, sedately crossed a castellated viaduct built in yellow stone high above the River Avon. Daisy beheld a striking panorama of the city, a profusion of golden buildings bathed in spring sunshine, like some new Jerusalem, she thought, spreading up the surrounding hills. She enthusiastically nudged Lawson.

‘Oh, look at the view.’

Lawson smiled indulgently and patted her hand.

‘Oh, please can we take a walk, Lawson? I’m dying to see the shops.’

‘As soon as we can. But first things first. We’ll have to find a hansom to take us to our hotel.’

They alighted from the carriage, a porter took their baggage, and they headed for the row of hansom cabs already lined up outside in Dorchester Street.

Daisy gasped when she saw the imposing façade of the Grand Pump Room Hotel. Inside, she was amazed to be taken to their third-storey room in a lift, of all things. At once, Lawson decided to take a swim in the Royal Baths attached to the hotel, foregoing their walk.

‘Why don’t you come and watch when you’ve unpacked?’ he suggested. ‘I understand there’s a balcony for spectators.’

The bedroom was large and ornate with a red patterned carpet. The wallpaper was maroon with an overpowering floral theme and a huge stone fireplace burned logs that gave off a pleasant outdoor aroma of leaves burning in autumn. The four-poster seemed high and when Daisy sat on it to take off her hat, it was comfortable enough.

When she had unpacked and spruced herself up, she decided it was time to watch Lawson swim. Apprehensively, she entered the lift once more and was taken to the ground floor where she was directed along a spacious corridor that took her past private bathrooms and dressing rooms. She noticed a sign that announced a Cooling Room for Ladies and deduced that ladies were indeed allowed to use the baths. As she turned around, she could see the magnificent swimming bath below with its classical marble statue at the far end. Lawson saw her and waved, then continued swimming.

When they returned to their room, Lawson, tired from his exertions, slept. Daisy went to one of the private bathrooms and drew a hot bath. As she undressed she pondered the absolute luxury of hot running water. The bathroom filled up with steam and she slid her plain lisle stockings down her legs and slipped off her new drawers. She ran hot water into the wash basin and thoroughly laundered the rolled-up napkin she had been wearing – for use another day – and saw that it was unstained. Her heart leapt with joy at the realisation that she and Lawson could at last consummate their marriage. Relieved, she stepped into the bath with a smile on her face and slid into its comforting warmth, contemplating her forthcoming initiation.

At dinner, they sat opposite each other in the elegant dining room. They started with salmon in a shrimp sauce and then roast lamb with mint jelly and fresh vegetables. Lawson requested a bottle of Beaune and drank most of it himself. But he messed his food about, something he always seemed to do, and refused any pudding.

‘Aren’t you hungry?’

‘Oh, I’ve had enough. I’m not a big eater.’

‘It surprises me, Lawson. I mean, you’re tall and … I would have thought you needed your food.’

He made no comment.

‘I enjoy my food,’ Daisy commented, ‘but I can be excused for not clearing my plate. I don’t want to get fat. What do you think of the food here?’

‘It’s a bit plainer than it was in London. But it’s tasty enough.’ He quaffed his wine. ‘Anyway, what would you like to do tomorrow?’

She half smiled. ‘After we’ve seen all the shops, you mean?’

‘We’re not spending all day walking from shop to shop.’

‘Well, we could wander around the abbey, I suppose – if you like. And I’d love to see that place that’s built in a half-moon.’

His eyes creased into an attractive smile. ‘You mean the Royal Crescent.’

His look warmed her a little. ‘If that’s what they call it. It’s near a park as well, according to the guide book. If the weather holds fine, we could take a walk there in the afternoon.’ She sipped what remained of her wine and glanced across the room. The fender’s brasswork reflected the flickering firelight and a waiter collected plates from another table.

She looked into Lawson’s eyes. ‘My darling, I’ve had a lovely time so far …’ Her hand found his across the table and squeezed it.

‘Good. I’m glad.’

‘What about you?’

‘Well … I’ve been trying to come to terms with my new situation. Becoming a married man all of a sudden …’

She felt her pulse quicken and her face flush with apprehension. ‘I hope you’re not going to tell me you’re regretting marrying me already?’

‘Not regretting it. But it’s suddenly come as quite a shock to the system. My life will be different … I’ll have to get used to it, won’t I? I’ll have to come to terms with it.’

She frowned into her empty glass. ‘We could get unmarried, Lawson, if that’s what you want,’ she said quietly. ‘I believe you can have a marriage annulled if you haven’t consumed it.’

‘The word is consummated …’ He chuckled momentarily at her mistake, but instantly became serious again, irked by her compliant self-sacrifice. And yet, at the same time he was touched by it, for he imagined it would break her heart if she had to face such a trauma.

‘Please tell me that’s not what you want, Lawson.’

‘That’s not what I want, Daisy, be assured … Let me order you another drink. I could certainly do with one.’ He hailed a waiter. ‘Two glasses of your best brandy, my man.’

‘Brandy?’ she said. ‘You’ll have me drunk. Still, I don’t care as long as you still want me.’

‘Of course I want you.’

The soft crescent of her mouth transformed into a relieved smile. ‘I’m glad. You had me worried.’

‘Look, I haven’t married you because of some lark or some madcap bet with my friends. I’ve thought this thing through … What I wanted to say is this … As well as my love for you, I want you to understand that my being married will give me more social respectability—’

‘So you’re only interested in social esteem. You don’t really love me.’

‘Of course I love you. How many times must I tell you? But love isn’t everything. There are other considerations, less romantic, and I want you to understand them. Greater acceptance in society, by virtue of being married, is one of them.’

‘Then you should have married an heiress, not an unemployed domestic servant.’

‘Don’t demean yourself, Daisy. Yes, I know you’re neither an heiress nor the daughter of some nabob, but you have the look and the bearing. And I need you. I need you to keep me on the straight and narrow.’

‘You need me,’ she repeated with some disenchantment. She wanted him to love her, not just need her. Love must be the overriding feature of their marriage.