“You needn’t worry about them. Mr. Fletcher and I, and Miss Belinda, will take care of them so that you can enjoy the fête.”
“I wouldn’t set foot near the place, madam, and that’s the truth.”
“Manda go?” Miranda asked anxiously. “Manda an’ O’ver?”
“O-li-ver,” Daisy corrected her.
“Oyiver.”
“Me!” said Oliver, looking up briefly from his blocks.
“An’ Auntie Marfa, an’ Ben?”
“All of us, pet.”
“An’ Nana, an’ Nurse?”
“Nurse can go if she wants to see the fun.”
“No thank you, madam.”
“As you wish. I think Nana had better stay here. There will be lots of people and she might get stepped on.”
“Fun,” Oliver said firmly, picking out the only word that mattered.
“Not if it’s still foggy,” said Mrs. Gilpin, equally firmly.
Daisy didn’t argue, but nor did she intend to keep the children indoors if the mist didn’t clear. It was nothing like a coal-smoky London fog, and neither of the twins had a weak chest, thank goodness.
By lunchtime the sun was breaking through. Lunch was served early, a cold buffet, to allow all the servants a chance to attend the fête. Most of them were local, so their friends and relatives would be there, as Geraldine explained to her guests in apologising for the informal meal.
“It’s just simple country merrymaking,” she added, “but I hope you’ll enjoy yourselves.”
“I’ll enjoy it, for sure,” said Frank Crowley. “I’ve already met half the population of the district at the Beetle.” He laughed. “The male half.”
“I think I’ll give it a miss,” Raymond said.
“Not my cup of tea,” said Vincent, stroking his moustache. Laurette nodded.
Edgar leant forward and addressed them earnestly. “It’s up to you, of course. But if one of you ends up as proprietor of Fairacres, people won’t forget that you didn’t participate. It’s an event of some importance for the villagers, raising funds to rebuild the village hall. I hope you’ll reconsider. Geraldine will be opening the festivities at two o’clock.”
“Oh, in that case … Of course we will be there, n’est pas, Vincent? I must not miss the chance to learn how one addresses a crowd of peasants.”
“If everyone else is going,” Raymond conceded ungraciously, “I might as well.” In a more conciliatory tone, he added, “I look forward to hearing you speak in public, Lady Dalrymple.”
“It’s nothing much, no more than a welcome and encouragement to spend freely for a good cause.”
Daisy knew the “nothing much” had caused a huge hullabaloo the summer after her father’s death. The village committee had invited Geraldine to open the fête, both because the dowager was assumed to be in mourning and because, after all, Geraldine was now viscountess. Daisy’s mother was furious, considering herself slighted. Geraldine willingly abdicated the task.
However, the widow then took offence at being introduced as “the Dowager Lady Dalrymple.” Henceforth, Geraldine opened the fête. After Geraldine’s speech was safely over and she had finished her obligatory tour of the flower and vegetable exhibits, Daisy’s mother would put in a brief appearance.
As star of the show, Geraldine was expected to arrive in state in the Vauxhall, driven by Truscott.
She took Martha with her. The rest walked down the half mile of drive, Raymond stalking ahead, Vincent and Laurette lagging behind, Alec in between in charge of the twin’s double pushchair. Frank walked with him. The twins hadn’t seen much of him, but took to him at once. Miranda chatted away, with Oliver interpolating his occasional monosyllable.
Daisy was right behind them with the older children. They had lunched with the adults but sat together, quietly minding their manners, so she hadn’t talked to Belinda since their return to the house after the morning’s exploratory expedition.
All three were excited about the fête. They had helped unpack china in the tea tent, filled vases for the flowers as villagers brought in their prime dahlias and gladioli, and best of all, fed the donkeys.
“They’ll be giving rides,” said Belinda. “But we’re too old for that.”
“And having races later,” Ben added.
“We’re going to race each other,” Derek said.
“If that’s all right, Mummy.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Daddy gave us each half a crown.”
“And so did Uncle Edgar, even when we told him Uncle Alec already had.”