Daisy Read Online Free PDF Page A

pair of my lady’s
stays
….”
    “Oh, Jerry, really. Stays… how naughty. I believe the poor thing’s going to
cry
. Are you going to
cry?
”
    Daisy stood in dumb misery surrounded by her laughing tormentors, her large eyes bright with unshed tears. The Earl lazily got to his feet. “Enough!” he cried. “Leave the child alone. Welcome to Marsden Castle. Curzon! I say, Curzon.
    Take Miss Chatterton up to the Blue Room, right?”
    “Wait a minute, Curzon,” said the Countess. “Darling, the Blue Room is one of our
best
and we
are
expecting Oxenden.”
    “Oxenden would be honored to give Miss Chatterton his bedchamber any day of the week,” said a familiar mocking voice. The Duke of Oxenden pushed his way through the chattering group and picked up Daisy’s bag. “Lead the way, Curzon,” he said languidly. “Miss Chatterton looks tired and God knows, the inane wit I have just heard is enough to tire anyone.”
    He held out his arm. Daisy put her arm in his with an unconscious natural grace which made the Countess narrow her eyes. As she walked into the Castle, the Countess’s tinkling voice followed her. “Well, darling, she’ll need to make herself useful you know. Poor relations always do.”
    The Duke could see that Daisy was almost at breaking point. He murmured soothing platitudes as he led her through the great hall and up the enormous marble staircase after Curzon’s stiff back.
    “Now here are your rooms, Miss Chatterton,” he said. “I feel you have had enough to bear at the moment. But I have just got back from France and I did see your father. Bring her to the library at six and I’ll have a talk with her, Curzon.”
    “Very good, Your Grace,” said Curzon woodenly. He threw open the door of the Blue Room and stood aside to let Daisy enter.
    The rooms were all that Daisy had dreamt of. Sunlight flooded through the long windows with extravagant disregard for the oriental rugs spread over the polished floors. The rooms were decorated in Wedgwood blue and white. There was a small sitting room and a large bedroom with an enormous cane-backed bed hung with a frivolous canopy of white lace. White lace curtains floated on the gentle breeze and massive bowls of white roses decorated the occasional tables.
    Curzon, who had taken Daisy’s bag from the Duke, set it down and surveyed her sympathetically. “Would you like me to give you a bit of advice, miss?”
    Daisy kept her back turned to him and said in a small, chilly voice, “That will be all, Curzon.”
    Curzon bowed and then hesitated in the doorway. “I know what you’re going through, miss. If ever you need help, you know where to find me.” There was no reply and he closed the door quietly behind him.
    Daisy sat down on a chair by the window and wept. She wept because people were so cruel and because her newfound pathetic snobbery had caused her to snub Curzon.
    She sat there while the yellow sunlight faded to a rich gold. Then the little French clock on the mantel tinkled out five like a mocking echo of the Countess’s voice. Her trunks were still lying corded. She sprang to action and began searching through them desperately for something suitable to wear.
    There was a faint scratch at the door of her sitting room and Curzon walked in. “Oh, Mr. Curzon, I am so sorry…” began Daisy and then her voice trailed away as she noticed a maid standing behind the butler.
    “Plumber here will be your maid, miss. She will lay out your dress and arrange your hair.” Plumber folded her large hands over her apron and looked about her in disdain.
    “Ah…a word with you outside, Plumber. Please excuse me, miss,” said Curzon drawing the maid outside the room.
    There were the brief sounds of a sharp altercation and then the door reopened and a much subdued and respectful maid stood there. Daisy was still too concerned over her own recent bad manners to Curzon to notice the change in the maid. Plumber had, in fact, been threatened with