Free Our Lady of Pain by Marion Chesney Page B

side,” said Rose. “That is, if there is one.”
    Rose held Daisy at the rail as her companion was violently ill. Black smoke swirled down from the funnel, enveloping them in a sort of soot-laden fog. Rose tried to persuade Daisy to go back inside, but she held grimly on to the rail, staring down dismally at the heaving grey-green breakers.
    Harry appeared behind Rose. “Trouble?”
    “Yes, Daisy is seasick.”
    “She needs brandy. Daisy, for heaven’s sake, get out of this gale. I’ll fetch you a brandy.”
    At that moment, the ferry crashed down into the trough of a wave and a great stream of spray dashed into their faces and their feet were soaked because the decks were beginning to run with water.
    Rose had always considered herself a new woman, courageous and independent, but she had to admit weakly that it was pleasant to let Harry take over. He fetched brandy for Daisy and then went off and in a very short time had ordered two cabins for them and had the duchess’s footmen bring part of their luggage so that they could change.
    All Daisy wanted to do was fall on the bunk and go to sleep, but to Rose’s relief, Benton, the lady’s maid, arrived and took over. Daisy was put into dry clothes and her forehead was bathed with cologne. Then Rose went to her cabin next door and allowed herself to be changed into dry clothes as well. Benton went off to complain to the duchess that two extra ladies to look after was too much and the duchess said sleepily she would hire a lady’s maid for them when they got to Paris.
    Daisy fell asleep and awoke just as the Queen was docking at Calais. She quickly took a small bottle of belladonna out of her case and applied drops to each eye. She had read that belladonna enlarged the pupils and made the eyes look brilliant.
    She hurriedly put the bottle away as Rose knocked at the door. “Come along, Daisy. The servants will see to the luggage.”
    Beautiful words, thought Daisy, thinking of her impoverished upbringing in the East End. Had she ever dreamed that one day she would have ducal servants to look after her?
    But as she left the cabin, she found to her horror that she could barely see.
    “Where’s Daisy?” asked Harry, holding out a hand to help Rose alight from the gangplank. “Oh, there she is. What’s up with the girl?”
    Daisy was stumbling down the gangplank, weaving from side to side, gazing blindly about her.
    The ship gave a huge lurch and Daisy went straight over the gangplank and into the water.
    “She’s being crushed between the ship and the dock,” screamed Rose.
    But Becket was already running down stone steps cut into the dock. As Daisy surfaced, he leaned out over the water and grabbed a handful of her clothes and dragged her onto the lower steps.
    The duchess’s footmen nipped down the stairs and helped Becket carry Daisy up.
    On the quay, Daisy was promptly sick again, throwing up what looked like a gallon of salt water. The duchess joined Rose. “Drunk, I suppose,” she said crossly. “We’ll need to stay at the Calais Hotel for the night. What a bore.”
    Daisy was in disgrace. She was told to stay in her bedroom that evening while the rest had dinner. A tray would be sent up to her.
    She picked miserably at her food. She could tell somehow that the duchess felt she had behaved like some low-class creature.
    There was a soft knock at the door and she called, “Come in.”
    Becket entered. “What happened?” he asked.
    “If I tell you, promise you won’t say anything.”
    Daisy told him about the belladonna and Becket laughed and laughed until Daisy began to laugh as well.
    Finally Becket said, “Were you able to eat anything?”
    “Yes, I made a good meal. I like those little birds’ legs in garlic butter.”
    “Those would be frogs’ legs.”
    “What? I’ve eaten frogs’ legs!” Daisy put a handkerchief to her mouth.
    “You are not going to be sick,” said Becket severely. “There’s nothing up with frogs’ legs. I had