Page 65 of Daisy and the Duke
“This is most unfair!” Daisy burst out.
“Keep silent, Miss Merriot,” Tristan ordered, his tone forbidding. “Mr. Hornthwaite, you may return to your seat.”
Then Kemble stood up, taking over. “Your grace, I believe this matter will be easily resolved. If the footman—yes, John, you there—please bring in the person who has been waiting in the small parlor.”
Daisy looked around the room, puzzled. Who was missing from this assembly? Who could Kemble possibly want to interview?
Then a familiar figure entered through the large double doors. She was dressed smartly in a green gown, and had snapping brown eyes that missed nothing in the room.
“Poppy!” she whispered.
Her schoolmate strolled up the aisle and her gaze locked with Daisy’s for just an instant, but in that instant she felt all the warmth and rage and righteous indignation of a furious friend.
Poppy walked to the makeshift witness stand by the magistrate, and looked over the assembled guests as ifshewere the one who invitedthemin.
Kemble began his interview. “Your name is Poppy St. George, and you reside in London, is that correct?”
“That is true, sir.”
“And do you know Miss Daisy Merriot?”
“Very well, for we were at school together at Bloomfield Academy. Our headmistress, in the first row there, can confirm it.” She pointed out Mrs. Bloomfield with a smile.
“You are friends then.”
“Dear friends.”
“Tell me about your family, Miss St. George.”
“My stepfather is in trade, sir. He deals in fabrics.”
“Fabrics, you say. And is there anything about your family’s business that might be relevant to today’s matter?”
Poppy, having obviously expected this question, said, “Very much so, for the costume made in our shop is the very one Daisy wore to the ball.”
“Are you saying thatyousent the ball gown to Miss Daisy?” Mr. Kemble asked, with the false surprise of a lawyer who asks a question to which he already knows the answer, but can’t wait for the rest of the courtroom to hear it for the first time.
“I did.”
“Poppy!” Daisy burst out. “Why did you? And why did you not say anything?”
“I wanted to make a game of it,” Poppy told her directly. “I never dreamed it would turn out as it has!”
“Details, please, Miss St. George. Why did this ball gown get made?” Kemble asked.
“My stepfather was eager to import some new fabrics, very modish ones that might advance his standing among the various buyers, who are always looking for the next fashion. The dusk pattern, as we called it, was very intriguing, but we had to make sure a seamstress could work with it. Thus a gown was sewn start to finish, and I had the notion of a butterfly coming out and spreading its wings for the first time, and so that is what we created. As it happens, the measurements of our mannequin are identical to that of Miss Daisy Merriot, a fact I was well aware of. So when we had a finished gown and costume elements, I thought, why not send it to Daisy and let her find out for us how it wears? You see, I’d just had a letter from her discussing a ball that she would have liked to attend, but of course she had no suitable outfit, her wardrobe being quite modest ever since the death of her father.” She glanced over at Lady Rutherford with disdain.
“So you mailed the whole package to Miss Daisy at Rutherford Grange.”
“Yes. My plan was to let her know in a fortnight or so that I had sent it, and to inquire of her opinion of the gown. However, events did not fall out that way.”
“Indeed not.”
Daisy nodded in silent agreement.
“But the necklace!” Hornthwaite interjected.
“Ah, yes,” Mr. Kemble said. He walked to his table and picked up a piece of paper. “I knew the vicar was most concerned about the ruby necklace Miss Daisy was wearing with the costume. So I inquired at the firm that insured the previous baron’s valuables. They have kindly sent along a list of items, and you’ll see, sir,” he said as he handed the sheet to the magistrate, “the description for item seventeen is that of the ruby necklace I hold here, which Miss Daisy lent to me for today’s proceedings. As indicated, it was first purchased for her late mother, and remained at Rutherford Grange ever since, so there is an impeccable path from original owner to now.”
