Christina Hollis (22 page)

‘Has Jack been indiscreet, mademoiselle?’ Philip’s voice was quieter now and cut through his mother’s laughing dismissal.

‘No—not at all, sir.’ She smiled up at him.

‘That’s as well,’ Mistress Constance interrupted quickly, one hand to her brow. ‘I don’t think I could stand any disagreements on top of this wretched headache. What a pity I shan’t be able to accept dear Mr Wright’s invitation to dine this evening...’

‘Oh, Miss Leonora will be so disappointed if we can’t go!’ Madeleine said in dismay. She was coming to realise that, although he might be beyond her own reach, Philip could do worse than marry the biddable Leonora—far worse.

Kitty Pettigrew, for example. Her unhappy past and the leverage of Pettigrew’s loan might persuade Philip into marrying her just to make amends, she realised. The English were like that.

If only Michael could be coaxed back home, that danger would pass.

‘It was suggested that you and I go alone, mademoiselle, but I was not sure if you would want to come...’ Philip finished rather lamely.

‘That’s no way to impress,’ Jack began, but was outdone by Madeleine’s excitement.

‘Oh, I’d love to! Mistress Constance, may I?’

‘Of course.’ Her employer smiled indulgently. ‘Your pink dress would be the best choice, I think.’

Madeleine looked up at Philip, who put his hands behind his back and gazed across the garden. She could guess what that meant.

‘Ah—I don’t think so, madame... If you remember, I was to wear that to the Pettigrews’ tea-party, but Master Philip didn’t consider it suitable for the company of gentlemen...’

‘The Reverend Mr Wright’s not a gentleman!’ Jack volunteered. ‘He’s a parson. That doesn’t count!’

Philip cleared his throat importantly. ‘You may dress exactly as you wish, mademoiselle. The carriage will leave here at six o’clock precisely. All I ask is that you are ready by that time.’

Not only an invitation to dinner, but in the company of Philip! Madeleine was beside herself as she fled upstairs to her room.
        It would be wonderful—she could spend the entire evening watching him, safe in the knowledge that he would not notice. He would be absorbed in Miss Leonora.

That made her pause. Oh, why couldn’t it be me? She thought as she started to unpin her hair. Then she caught sight of her reflection in the looking-glass.

She might have taken on the fancies and fashions of a lady, but could not hide from the truth. Despite the pretty frills and ribbons, the face that looked back at her was still that of a rascal from the slums of Paris.

Madeleine was ready by half-past five. She watched shadows lengthen across the lawn for several hours before looking at the clock again.
        It said twenty-one minutes to six.

The wretched thing must be slow. Snatching up her stole and evening bag, she ran out of her room and down the stairs.

There was no carriage waiting outside, but the library door stood open. She could hear a low undertone of conversation from within, so she went forward.

‘Madeleine! Don’t be shy: come on in!’ Mistress Constance stood and held out her hands as Madeleine peeped around the edge of the door.

Philip was standing beside the spinet. As she entered he advanced and bowed a little uncertainly.

‘I’m sorry if I’m late...’ she began, but Mistress Constance only laughed.

‘It’s not yet a quarter to the hour, Madeleine! I’ve never known two people be ready so far in advance of a simple dinner!’

‘Far better to be early than late,’ Philip said uncomfortably.

‘You’re as pretty as a picture, Madeleine, my dear! I can’t for the life of me see why Philip objected to this dress—it’s quite the most fetching one you have. Although I think there’s one small addition I can make. A rather pretty necklace...’ Mistress Constance went to the table and opened a small box. ‘Come over to the window and I’ll fasten it for you.’

Madeleine obliged, bending a little so her mistress could reach.

‘Truth to tell, I’m afraid Philip and I were on the point of having Words when you arrived, Madeleine. My foolish son insists he will be riding over to the vicarage beside the coach, instead of inside with you. Have you ever heard of anything so silly?’

Madeleine busied herself adjusting the little sapphire and silver necklace. She was wondering how Leonora would feel to know that her dear Philip had travelled for two miles in a closed coach with a foreigner of dubious ancestry.

‘Actually, madame, I think I might feel safer if Master Philip were to be on the lookout,’ she whispered, anxious not to cause offence. ‘Better that than to be surprised by these wicked bounty hunters.’

Mistress Constance patted her hand warmly. The chance that her companion might be kidnapped was never far from her thoughts. ‘Of course, my dear. I understand. Philip! It looks as though you are to get your way after all!’

He didn’t smile, but instead went to the doorway and looked out.

‘The carriage has arrived, mademoiselle. Unless you have any objection, I suggest we leave now rather than waiting until the hour. The evening is pleasant, so we need not hurry...’

After some urging by his mother, Philip took Madeleine’s arm and escorted her out to the carriage. When she was settled, he mounted his horse and they moved off.

The gravel drive was too narrow for both Adamson’s horse and the carriage. Only when they reached the open road was there enough room for him to move alongside.

‘Did you enjoy your trip to Bath this morning, mademoiselle?’ he said at last.

Madeleine moved to the window, but had more sense than to lean out. That was the sort of thing girls like Kitty Pettigrew were bound to do.

‘Oh, yes, sir.’

‘I thought you hated shopping, mademoiselle.’ He was engrossed in watching for pot-holes as his bay mare skipped and danced along the road.

‘Yes, but Bath’s such a pretty town, after all.’

He laughed, and took his eyes off the road for a moment.

‘Do you ride, mademoiselle?’

‘Of course!’ Madeleine said airily. After all, it looked easy enough.

‘There are always horses for hire in Bath. Perhaps you might consider a ride around the gardens during Mother’s next visit.’

Madeleine wasn’t sure about that. It would mean getting rather closer to a horse than she might have liked.

‘Only if Mistress Constance came with me!’ she said lightly. The thought of her tubby employer on a horse was not very likely.

To her delight Philip laughed out loud and moved closer to the carriage. ‘If you really wanted Mother as a companion, then of course she must follow at a respectful distance, mademoiselle!’

Madeleine began to feel uncomfortable, without knowing quite why. She sat back in her seat and was quiet for some time.

‘Are you enjoying the journey, mademoiselle? There’s nothing amiss, is there?’

‘Not at all, Master Philip. Why do you ask?’

‘When the carriage passed over the little hump bridge a moment ago you did not laugh, as usual.’

‘No—I was thinking, and missed it. It’s only fun when the carriage is going fast, anyway.’

‘Perhaps we should take the homeward journey at a pace that matches Jack’s, then.’ He leant forward and patted the neck of his mare. Madeleine wasn’t slow to sense that Jack’s attentions to her still rankled with him.

‘Sir,’ she said firmly, ‘I’ve told you before, and goodness knows how many times Jack must have told you. There’s no sort of understanding between us. I don’t encourage him at all in...that way.’

‘It’s true that Jack often makes things up, just to annoy me,’ Philip said thoughtfully. ‘He thinks it’s funny, but then, that’s just his way. He’s always been the same.’

‘Exactly. Whatever silly tales he tells you, sir, rest assured I would never do anything to bring shame on you, or Mistress Constance.’

‘I know,’ Philip said simply, then spurred off. The carriage was nearing its destination, and he had ridden ahead to warn the Wrights.

The vicarage was an impressive, rambling building. Madeleine felt quite overawed as she stepped down from the carriage. That feeling disappeared as soon as she stepped over the threshold. The house was dark and shabby, not like the light openness of Willowbury. As the maid led them down a dank corridor, Madeleine recognised several smells. Her heart sank.

It was always a bad sign when something reminded her of Paris.

They were shown into the parlour, where a merry blaze was crackling. Despite the August warmth outside the room was chilly, and Madeleine knew why.

‘Still having trouble with the damp?’ Philip enquired after all the good-humoured introductions.

The parson nodded sadly, but his daughter smiled at Madeleine.

‘You wouldn’t believe this, mademoiselle, but when it rains hard, water runs down this wall like a cascade!’

I would, Madeleine thought as she sat down beside Leonora.

The parson’s daughter laughed happily. Madeleine saw then why Philip had been so intrigued by her own mouth on that first night in Paris.

There was certainly something very strange about Leonora’s. Madeleine could have sworn that it flashed in the evening sunlight.

She had learnt enough tact to know the English never asked direct questions when they wanted to know something. Subtlety was all.

She would have to be discreet.

‘What pretty teeth you have, Miss Leonora.’

‘Oh, thank you, mademoiselle! I haven’t had this set long. They’re the best ones yet, aren’t they, Philip?’

The company laughed, and Madeleine joined in to avoid looking silly. Fortunately further clues were not long in coming.

‘Dr Pritchard made them for her, mademoiselle.’ The Reverend Mr Wright leaned forward and tapped his daughter’s hand away from her mouth. ‘I’ve told you before, Leonora—you mustn’t take them out in company!’

Everyone laughed again, and to Madeleine’s relief Leonora didn’t ‘take them out’. Jack made removable teeth? What on earth for? It got odder and odder.

‘What wonderful weather we’re having!’ Madeleine said loudly, desperate to change the subject.

‘I read only this morning that the poor King has been sea-bathing at Weymouth.’ Philip moved to her side and placed one hand on the back of the lumpy couch. When he looked down at her his grey eyes were fired with merriment. ‘Let’s hope it can restore his health. Mademoiselle Madeleine is very taken with the sea. It is a wonder we ever managed to get her as far as Willowbury after she had once set eyes upon the Channel!’

‘Oh, I’ve never seen the sea...’ Leonora said wistfully. Her eyes misted, and fair threads of hair trembled about her brows.

‘As it happens, I was wondering if Mother and I might not spend a week or so at the coast before the summer ends—’

Leonora was alert in an instant. ‘Can I come?’

‘If your father agrees to it, Leonora, then you shall both come. The Reverend Mr Wright works every day God sends, Mademoiselle Madeleine. If the harvest is good enough to permit us a holiday, I don’t think we should refuse him one too, do you?’

Madeleine smiled sweetly, although she felt as sour as old milk. The thought of seeing Leonora Wright cooing over Philip all day, every day was not exactly her idea of a pleasant holiday.

It was very late before Madeleine and Philip took their leave of Leonora and the parson. Madeleine did lean out of the window on this occasion. She waved until the two figures in their lamplit doorway were lost to view.

‘That was a kind gesture, mademoiselle—lending Leonora Mother’s necklace, even if it was only for a few hours.’

‘I felt overdressed as soon as we arrived,’ she said glumly. ‘I wish you had told me what things were like there.’

‘Ladies always dress up, whatever the circumstances.’

‘I wouldn’t have done had I known, sir. I hope Miss Leonora wasn’t made to feel uncomfortable.’

He laughed and hurried his horse on a little.

‘You should know, mademoiselle—you monopolised her for most of the evening!’

With a shout he was gone, and the carriage lurched forward to catch up. Suddenly Madeleine was bounced violently up into the air as the carriage took the little hump bridge at a gallop.

‘You still aren’t laughing, mademoiselle’ Philip reappeared at the carriage window with a smile.

‘I think it’s the effects of too much good food, sir...’

‘Ah, they’re still working their way through the half-bullock we sent over. Marrow bones followed by roast beef was all right, but I think suet pastry on the greengages was a bit—mademoiselle?’

Madeleine had rapped for the carriage to stop. She sat on the edge of her seat, taut with nausea.

‘Are you quite well, mademoiselle?’ Philip enquired with some concern.

‘No. I think I’d better get out...’

At once he dismounted and opened the carriage door for her. The evening air was better than cool water to Madeleine. She took in great draughts of it as she leaned against the side of the coach.

‘All that talk of food...and the bridge... I’m sorry, sir...’

‘Oh, of course. I should have realised how gentle your sensibilities are by the way you changed the subject from Leonora’s new teeth. I’m sorry... Are you going to be sick, mademoiselle?’

‘No, sir, I don’t think so. Although if I could just walk about for a moment to catch my breath...’

‘Of course. It would be best not to go far from the carriage, but I shall accompany you. You’ll be quite safe, Mademoiselle Madeleine.’

They stretched their legs with a walk along the verge, and Madeleine began to brighten. It was a pure, star-lit night, as clear as iced water with the hint of autumn close at hand.

‘I should like to thank you, mademoiselle, for making this evening such a success,’ Philip said in a low voice as they reached the furthest point from the carriage.

‘The pleasure was entirely mine!’ she replied with a smile. She stopped and he did likewise, standing very close to her. In the still of the evening an owl wavered from the nearby wood.

‘Perhaps we could repeat the visit on a future occasion,’ he said, so quietly that Madeleine could hardly hear.

‘Of course, sir! Any time you need an excuse to visit the parsonage I would be delighted to provide you with an alibi.’