The day of Daisy’s wedding dawned bright and sunny. Hunter, who acted as lady’s maid to both Daisy and Rose, exclaimed with delight over the wedding gown. It was made of silk chiffon over silk charmeuse with a beaded and embroidered lace overlay on the bodice and the centre front of the skirt. The bodice and sleeves were edged with beaded trim. It buttoned up the back with tiny silk-covered buttons. On her head Daisy wore a white cloche with a chiffon veil.

Rose felt a lump in her throat when she saw Daisy attired in her wedding finery. She had paid for everything – the gown, the reception and the flowers to decorate the church. Rose was glad she had been left that legacy which enabled her to pay for the wedding arrangements. She was to act as bridesmaid. Her gown was of pink silk with white lace panels and a high-boned lace collar. Her cartwheel hat of Leghorn straw was decorated with large pink silk roses.

MatthewJarvis entered to say that Captain Cathcart had arrived to take them to the church.

Harry was driving his Rolls, looking very handsome in morning dress. He drove very slowly towards the City, not wanting the ladies’ hats to be blown off as they sat in the open car.

‘You haven’t heard from your family,’ said Rose. ‘I do hope they got their invitations.’

‘I’m sure they’ll all be at the church,’ said Daisy, knowing full well her family had not replied because they could not write and had probably found someone literate to read out the invitation to them. The Hadshire servants had all been invited and were following the car in the earl’s carriages.

‘Becket still insists he has no family,’ said Rose. ‘What is his background? Where does he come from?’

‘He never speaks about it,’ said Daisy. ‘He talks about having been a soldier once, but that’s all and he gets angry if I try to probe further.’

Bouquets held in silver holders had gone out of fashion. Daisy carried a spray of lilac and hothouse roses.

The church was a small one off Cheapside. Crowds began to gather on the street outside to watch the wedding party. Harry was best man, so he parked the car and told one of the earl’s footmen that he would pay him if he stayed outside the church and guarded it. Then he hurried inside so that he could take his place at the altar with Becket and leave Daisy and Rose to make a slow and stately entrance.

‘What’s that awful smell?’ whispered Becket when Harry joined him at the altar.

Harry was sure the smell was coming from Becket’s prospective in-laws, whom he had spotted crowded into a pew. ‘Must be drains,’ he whispered back, not wanting to alarm Becket about Daisy’s family.

The service was somewhat marred by Daisy’s father bawling out the hymns in a loud drunken voice. I wish I had never urged her to invite him, thought Rose miserably. He’s drunk already. What’s he going to be like at the reception?