Chapter 4 #2
“You may be right,” Daisy acknowledged, “except that the way he feels he’s been treated at Oxford, a ‘posh’ wife might just increase his inferiority complex. I think you’d be jolly good for him. You’d support him and stop him dwelling on his grievances.”
“He always did take things personal, if you know what I mean—take things to heart, like.”
“I wouldn’t give up too quickly if I were you.”
“Reelly?” Miss Hopgood looked pleased but dubious. “Well, I wouldn’t give him the push anyway, but who’s to say what he’ll be wanting once he gets to this here Cavendish Labororatry at Cambridge. Who’s your fella, then? A lord, is he?”
Daisy laughed. “No, a policeman.”
“Go on, you’re having me on! A bobby?”
“Not exactly an ordinary bobby. He’s a Detective Chief Inspector at Scotland Yard.”
“Coo, you’ll have to mind your p’s and q’s, you will,” said Miss Hopgood, giggling. “But if you’re an Honourable, that means your dad’s a lord, doesn’t it? I shouldn’t be calling you ‘my lady’ should I?”
“No, Miss Dalrymple is right, but do call me Daisy.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t. I mean, your auntie’s a Lady, isn’t she? Sir Rupert and Lady Cheringham, Horace said. It’s ever so nice of them to invite the whole crew to stay.” Her face fell. “Oh dear, d’you think your auntie’ll mind Horace stopping on another two nights now his college is out of the race?”
“I’m sure Aunt Cynthia expects them to stay, to cheer on the four. Most of them probably will.”
“Yes, but Horace … . The rest’s all nobs, aren’t they? Real gentlemen, I mean. The thing is, I’ve already paid Friday and Saturday nights, but I wouldn’t want to stay without him, and he can’t afford to get a room, even if he could find one, which isn’t likely. I s’pose he could sleep in his tent.”
“I’m quite sure he can stay at my aunt’s till Sunday,” Daisy assured her. “Why did he bring a tent? Don’t tell me he expected to be made to sleep on the lawn?”
“Oh no!” Miss Hopgood laughed at the thought. “That nice Mr. Frieth, the captain, he said they’d have to double up
but there was room for everyone, and Horace had a room of his own in the end. No, Horace is going on a walking tour after the Regatta, so he brought his tent and knapsack and all. He likes …”
She stopped as the landlady came in with Bott’s crumpled shirt and maroon shorts over her arm.
“What’d I say, dry near as makes no odds and I’ll just run a hot iron over ‘em to finish ’em off so’s the young gent don’t catch cold.”
Miss Hopgood jumped up. “Oh, thanks ever so. I’ll iron them, though. I’m sure you’re busy.”
“Well, there’s my man’s dinner to get … .” She looked doubtfully at Daisy.
“I must be on my way,” Daisy said at once. “My cousin will be wondering where on earth I’ve got to. Thanks most frightfully for the tea. I’ve enjoyed talking to you, Miss Hopgood. I expect we’ll run into each other again down by the river.”
By the time Daisy reached the General Enclosure again, the crowd had thickened. It was still nothing like the crush it would be tomorrow, when the fashionable set arrived for Finals day, but there was a scattering of bright frocks and morning suits among the blazers.
Thirsty after walking from the town under the now hot sun, Daisy headed for the refreshment tent. With its sides furled, it was shady without being stuffy, and allowed a view of the river.
There she found Tish, Dottie, Rollo, and Cherry, the girls with lemonade, the men with beer tankards.
“Where have you been?” Tish greeted Daisy.
“We were contemplating calling in the police,” said Dottie,
“but we weren’t sure whether to get the local chaps or go straight to Scotland Yard.”
“Oh, Scotland Yard, of course. Alec would have wrung my neck!”
The others laughed. Cherry went to get lemonade for Daisy while Rollo asked her anxiously how Bott was.
“I had to get the boat out of the way, with the next two on their way,” he explained, “and it looked as if you and his girl—or his sister, was it?—and Lord DeLancey had things under control between you.”
“His girl, and a very sensible girl she is. She calmed Bott down, and he seemed to have got over the headache and tummy trouble.”
“Shock treatment,” said Cherry, returning with Daisy’s lemonade. “A ducking’ll do it every time. We should have chucked him in before the race.”
Rollo shook his head. “I should have asked for a postponement, and scratched if we couldn’t get it. At least we’d have avoided that appalling scene with DeLancey playing the …”
Tish elbowed him in the ribs. The DeLancey brothers were approaching. They would have made a handsome pair were it not for the elder’s tight lips, the thundercloud of resentment on the younger’s brow.
“Sorry about the shindy,” said the Hon. Basil stiffly. As a gracious apology it was a dud. “I shouldn’t have gone off halfcocked in front of the ladies. But that wretched little pleb made me see red, ruining the race for us!”
“As to whose fault …” Cherry snorted. Tish used her other elbow on his ribs.
“Least said, soonest mended,” Lord DeLancey put in smoothly, unknowingly echoing Miss Hopgood, to Daisy’s amusement. “A regrettable incident on both sides.”
His brother was not so easily hushed. “Did you hear Bott’s threats? He swore revenge. If he’s not too yellow to stand up and fight, I’ll thrash the living daylights out of him.”
“That’s easy to say,” Dottie exclaimed. “You’re twice his size and a boxer to boot.”
“Don’t be an ass, Basil,” said his lordship with asperity. “A hundred years ago you might have horse-whipped the fellow, but these days that’s not on.”
“More’s the pity. I suppose the snivelling wretch would haul me up before the beak.”
“He may yet,” Dottie observed, not without a touch of malice. “I imagine he has a very good case for assault if he chooses to pursue it.”
Both DeLanceys stared at her in high-nosed outrage.
“I’ll have a word with him,” said Rollo pacifically. “DeLancey, our Visitors’ Cup heat this afternoon isn’t till after five. I’m still not happy with our starts. See if you can round up Fosdyke, will you, and we’ll meet back at the boat-house in an hour for some practice.”
“The four!” Dismay chased outrage from the Hon. Basil’s face. “I bet that’s it. Bott’s planning to sabotage the boat to get back at me. What does he care if the coxless four doesn’t win?”
“What rot!” Cherry said in disgust.
“No, think about it. He has no sense of loyalty to Ambrose. I shouldn’t think he’s likely to try anything in daylight, but I tell you, I’m going to stand guard over that boat tonight, even if you fellows won’t join me.”
“We shan’t,” Rollo assured him.
“Nor will you!” Lord DeLancey snapped.
“Why the deuce not, Ceddie?” Basil said insolently.
“Don’t call me that. Spend the night on sentry-go in the boat-house? All you’ll accomplish is to make yourself and the family a laughing-stock. It’s a dashed good job your race this morning was so early, before the crowds arrived, but even so you’ve caused more than enough talk!”
Oddly enough, Daisy received the impression Lord DeLancey was quite as much apprehensive as angry. In particular, the sidelong glances he cast at Rollo and Cherry as he berated his brother seemed almost fearful.
Now what could he possibly have to fear?