Free For a Father's Pride by Diane Allen

dress? It looks like a cheap whore’s,’ he whispered, while smiling at the few guests who had witnessed the wedding.
    ‘Jenny . . .’ Daisy tried to speak.
    ‘Should have known. You get it off as soon as we are home, and I never want to see it again,’ muttered Bob under his breath, before shaking John’s hand and accepting his good
wishes. He pulled Daisy to one side, out of earshot of the guests. ‘You’re my wife, and you’ll dress like a railwayman’s wife from now on, not like some tart.’
    Daisy could feel the tears welling up inside her. What had happened to the sweet Bob she had known? Was this how he was going to treat her, now that she was his wife? He held his hand out and
helped Daisy into the trap, not saying a word to her.
    All through the wedding breakfast Bob kept looking at Daisy and her dress. Never had he seen such a waste of frills and lace. He loved his Daisy plain and pure; she
didn’t need the flounces of a town girl. Good manners demanded that he comment to Jenny on how lovely the wedding breakfast was, only for him to curse her under his breath for being so
over-the-top with her elaboration on what should have been a simple Dales wedding, whispering to Daisy that there had been no need for anything so decadent, and that it was all too vulgar for his
taste.
    Daisy was exhausted with anxiety by the time they left for their new home. Bob strode out along the fell track yards ahead of her, urging her onwards as she tried to catch him up in her petite
wedding boots, which seemed to catch in every strand of heather.
    ‘You can take them disgusting rags off now. Every man was looking at you, dressed like that. I couldn’t believe it. I love you in plain, simple clothes; there was no need to dress
like them at Gearstones. I love you for you, not your finery.’ Bob slammed the front door of their new home behind them.
    ‘I was the bride, Bob – that’s why.’ Daisy pulled her tightly laced boots off her aching feet. ‘Everyone admires the bride. That’s all they were doing.
Besides, I’ve only got eyes for you.’ She snivelled as her fingers trembled, undoing the beautiful buttons of her tight-fitting bodice. She finally stood in her bloomers and corset on
the cold stone flags of the kitchen, while Bob paced the floor, running his hands through his grey hair.
    ‘I thought you were different from other women. I thought you were sensible and would make a good wife. And now you want to keep working. I love you for how sweet and innocent you are, and
today is tarnished by them at Gearstones making us out to be something we aren’t, and asking you to work, when I want you at home with me.’ Bob was nearly in tears, as he held his head
in his hands over the kitchen table.
    ‘All I want is you, Bob. I love you. This dress and the fancy wedding breakfast mean nothing to me. It’s you I love, and if you want me not to work, then I’ll tell Jenny in the
morning. Don’t let’s argue on our wedding day,’ Daisy sobbed.
    ‘I love you, Daisy. I’m sorry, but I’m an old-fashioned man, with old-fashioned ideas. I want roses round this cottage’s door, and three or four children for when I grow
old, to look after me.’ Bob reached for Daisy’s hand and smiled as she came near him.
    ‘You know I love you, Bob. My heart’s yours, but perhaps I’m not ready for children, not yet.’
    Daisy cringed as Bob ran his hand over her buttocks and his grip tightened on her firmly laced waist. Her thoughts went back to Clifford, and the rape she had endured at his hands.
    ‘Listen to us arguing. Come here and sit on my knee, and make me a happy man. It’s time to stop talking. Come and do what a newly married couple are supposed to do. We’ve both
waited long enough; we’ve hidden our passions well, but our argument will be all the sweeter, if we make up by making love. Children will come, my love, and you may not want them now, but
you’ll grow to love them once they are in