A Mourning Wedding Read Online Free PDF Page A

Anytime.”
    Daisy exchanged a few more words with her before resuming her pursuit of Lucy’s parents, who had moved to the other side of the terrace. Sally, she saw, was bending solicitously over Lord Haverhill, who waved her away, looking irritable. Lord Fotheringay was contemplating a stone urn of geraniums and lobelia, plainly bored by such commonplace plants.
    Lucy stood at bay by the balustrade, surrounded by a swarm of giggling girls, cousins no doubt. She shot Daisy a look of desperate appeal. Daisy altered course. This, after all, was why she had been invited.
    â€œLucy, come and reintroduce me to your parents. I haven’t seen them in such ages.”
    â€œComing! Daisy, these are my cousins Julia, Alice, Erica, Mary, Ursula. My bridesmaids. Girls, my friend Mrs. Fletcher.” Linking arms, she hurried Daisy off with no time to respond to the chorus of “How do you do.”
    â€œI’ll never remember which is which,” Daisy said.
    â€œThey’re interchangeable. Were we ever so silly?”
    â€œWe never had the chance, darling. At that age, you were busy being the most elegant girl in the Land Army, and I was busy in a hospital office because I couldn’t face being a nurse on the wards. I expect we’d have managed to be just as silly if we hadn’t been otherwise engaged.”
    â€œI might have. I doubt you would. Darling, thank you for rescuing me, but you don’t really need me to help you tackle the parents.”
    â€œOf course not. It was all I could think of on the spur of the moment when I saw you were drowning. Who is that heading our way?”
    Lucy glanced round at the approaching woman and groaned. “Aunt Josephine. Lady Devenish. Great-aunt Eva’s daughter-in-law.”
    â€œAngela’s mother?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    It was possible to imagine Lady Devenish in youth as a pretty, doll-like creature, but the years had added flabbiness to her short figure and discontent to her round face. “I’ll leave you to her,” said Daisy.
    â€œIf you must. She’s bound to ask me yet again to give Angela a few hints about dressing decently. She simply can’t believe the poor fish doesn’t care two hoots. Angela won’t spend a penny on clothes. It all goes on her wretched animals.”
    Lucy turned away to intercept Lady Devenish, and Daisy at last caught up with Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Fotheringay. They thanked her for coming to support Lucy.
    â€œI simply don’t understand her,” said Mrs. Fotheringay in bewilderment. “A girl’s wedding should be the most wonderful day of her life, but Lucy is utterly offhand about the whole thing. I’m trying to make it perfect for her, but nothing I do seems to be right.”
    Daisy did her best to soothe the poor lady. Lady Haverhill came to join them, and Daisy found herself having to defend “the modern young woman.”
    Meanwhile Oliver Fotheringay wandered off to chat with his brother, Aubrey. Lord Fotheringay had descended the steps to the rose garden and was on his knees poking at the soil. Angela Devenish should have been Lord Fotheringay’s daughter, Daisy decided. They would have understood each other.
    Mrs. Oliver and her mother-in-law agreed to blame the Germans for the shortcomings of the modern generation.
    â€œLook at my grandson Rupert now,” said Lady Haverhill. “In my day, a young man was proud to be an officer in a Household Regiment, but since the War Rupert finds it boring. Haverhill won’t let him quit and live in town, doesn’t want him to turn into a useless
drone like Montagu. Of course, he could come home and help take care of the estate, but apparently that’s equally boring. I’d say there’s no moral fibre there, but the boy did have a ‘good war,’ as they say. Medals and so on.”
    â€œTimmy and George did their bit, of course.” But Mrs. Oliver was not presently