Christina Hollis (30 page)

‘It’s barely forty yards to the house. I think I’ll walk, if you don’t mind.’

‘Not at all—’ Philip began with a slight air of puzzlement. Madeleine had already helped Mistress Constance into the coach and shut the door upon any further conversation. Returning to her flowers, she heard the carriage move away, then come to a halt outside the front door of Willowbury. She did not look around.

Even when Philip came up behind her.

‘Madeleine? What is it?’ He turned in front of her, but Madeleine had an apron full of flowers and did not take his arm as offered. ‘Look—this is for you—’

He withdrew a tiny box from his waistcoat pocket and opened it. Sunlight scattered over an arrangement of red and white stones, splintering into rainbow fragments.

‘Rubies and diamonds,’ he said with evident delight. ‘Michael’s been successful enough to pay me some wages for the work I’ve done, at last! Let’s see if it fits—it can always be altered.’ Lifting the ring from its nest of red velvet, he took Madeleine’s hand and slipped it on to her finger.

‘There! Now we’re properly engaged, how about a kiss to seal it?’

‘No!’ Pain made the word burst out with unaccustomed ferocity. ‘No—Michael might see... And I don’t think I would, in any case. Not if you’re going to share confidences with your mother but not with me!’

‘What?’ Philip stood back a little and regarded her keenly. Then he sighed. ‘Oh, no. I wanted it to be a surprise.’

‘It was certainly that. And not a pleasant one, either.’

‘Madeleine, walk with me. I suppose I’ll have to tell you everything now, although I had been hoping to keep it a secret until the last moment.’

He took her hand, shaking the summer flowers from her apron. Leading her beneath wide-spreading trees towards the watermeadows, he tried to hurry her, but Madeleine hung back.

‘Michael won’t like us going off together like this.’

‘He’ll just have to get used to it. The only reason he doesn’t like it is because of what happened to Kitty.’

‘That’s reasonable. He’s got experience on his side.’

Philip stopped and kissed her suddenly. ‘He wants to prevent me from experiencing anything.’

Following through the shrubbery in his wake, Madeleine began to feel a tinge of the guilty excitement that had taunted her ever since she lay awake that first night in Paris.

‘Surely—it isn’t decent to be so far away from the house, and alone together...’ she began faintly.

‘You’re quite right, Madeleine. It isn’t right, and it isn’t decent, but I’m determined we should have some privacy for once. We’ve had no time to ourselves at all.’

He lifted her over the black iron railings and into the watermeadow. The cows were on higher ground today, and Madeleine had no fears in that direction. Her greatest worry was that if the worst came to the worst, she would not be able to refuse her Philip anything. Then he might consider her no better than any other gutter urchin.

‘In only a few more days, as soon as harvest is over, we’ll be married, Madeleine. I wanted us to have somewhere with some peace and quiet where we can discuss the future.’

He led her to a place on the river-bank where tall groups of wild angelica hemmed an area of soft, sweet grass. Here they sat down at the water’s edge. The sharp whistle of a kingfisher came fluting upstream. Suddenly its arrow of iridescent blue streaked beneath the willows.

‘I am going back to finish my training, Madeleine, but I want you to stay here at Willowbury—’

‘No! Philip, I want to come with you!’

He laughed, pulling her into his arms. ‘And live in one room while I have no time to do anything but study? No, I’d rather you saw me only when I’m not wrapped up in such relentless work. Cheltenham isn’t so very far away. When I come home to visit, which will be as often as possible, my little precious,’ his kisses started to move down her neck, ‘then you will have me all to yourself, with no distractions!’

‘I want you now, Philip...’

‘It will only be for a few months, my love—’

That hadn’t been exactly what Madeleine was thinking of. ‘I—I think we’d better start back to the house...’

He began to nuzzle her ear very gently. Madeleine felt all her resolve trickling away, but was unable to harden her heart against his gentle insistence.

‘I haven’t told you what will happen after I’ve qualified—’

‘No, but I know what’s going to happen here if we don’t get back—’

‘It’s all right, Madeleine. You’re quite safe with me...’ He was teasing her earlobe with his teeth now, tugging at it gently between murmured endearments.

‘That’s probably what Michael said to Kitty.’ Madeleine screwed up all her conviction and tried to rise. Philip held her firm.

‘Michael was careless,’ he muttered, kissing Madeleine before she had time to think of a reply. ‘Trust me—’

‘I do trust you,’ Madeleine caught his hand as it strayed towards the ribbons of her gown. ‘And so does your mother, and Michael, and everybody else.’

With a sigh of deepest regret, Philip stopped caressing her. He still held her close, and Madeleine could feel the quickening pace of his heart keeping time with hers.

‘You’re right, my love. Of course. I’m sorry—it’s just that I’ve thought so much about those kisses in the orchard, and with you being so wonderful, so desirable...’

He lifted a stray curl back from her brow. Madeleine looked deep into his steady grey eyes, thinking the same thoughts herself about him. She thought, too, of the low poverty of her beginnings, the almost unbearable longing she had kept secret for so long, and the loyalty he had shown her in adversity.

‘Oh, Philip... I do want you so much...’

He watched her face for long moments, but there was nothing but sincerity in her eyes.

‘I shouldn’t have pressed you to accompany me here, Madeleine... I suppose it can’t really be right to anticipate our wedding like this, can it?’

Philip’s action spoke more sense than his words, for he was already kissing her again. Only when Michael’s calling drew too close for comfort did his courting draw to an unwilling close.

‘We were watching the kingfishers,’ Philip called out casually.

‘A likely story.’ Michael laughed as he strode across the watermeadow to greet them. ‘Mother wants you back at the house as soon as possible, mademoiselle.’ He bowed graciously. ‘There is to be a trip to Bath for you and Kitty. Arrangements for wedding clothes, or some such fancy!’

Madeleine turned to Philip with a look of wistful longing. ‘Oh... And I so wanted to stay here with you...’

‘Philip’s going to be busy.’ Michael slapped his brother on the back companionably. ‘I’ll keep him occupied. We’re going to see if the grain’s ready to cut. The sooner that’s gathered and safe, the sooner you and Kitty will be able to wear those pretty new clothes, mademoiselle!’

Harvest began the very next day. With the men working in the fields, Madeleine decided to grit her teeth and tackle the milking. Unwilling to show her fear in front of Jemima and Kitty, she was out in the watermeadow before dawn to get the worst over with.

The cattle were used to the performance, and stood quietly ruminating in the mist-touched morning.

‘There, there,’ Madeleine said hopefully, edging around the horned end of a large dark shape and giving it a hopeful pat. The cow sighed long and hard, a billow of steam falling to ripple over the grasses.

Madeleine set down her stool and bucket. The cow ambled away. Madeleine followed, waiting for the cow to stop. When she did, Madeleine put the stool down and sat on it quickly, hoping that the animal would get the idea. She had just about managed to get the bucket in the right place when the cow turned and headed off towards the river.

At a loss, Madeleine looked around for inspiration. Several of the cows were still lying down, cudding quietly. She crept up to a pair that looked settled, hoping to ease the milk into the bucket somehow.

She was to be disappointed. Both cows were resting with udders well concealed. Madeleine had lost a lot of her fears since that first close encounter with the heifers. Now disappointment and dismay lent her courage. She had so wanted to prove to Mistress Constance that she could do the milking while the men were busy.

She slapped the nearest cow on its flank. Instead of offering its udder nicely, as she had hoped, the animal lurched to its feet, disturbing its neighbour as it did so. The first cow wandered off to join its sisters, but to Madeleine’s amazement the second merely stood up and looked at her. Hardly daring to breathe, Madeleine put down the stool and seated herself beside the cow. It made no attempt to escape, but instead tossed its horns at an early fly before continuing to chew mechanically.

Madeleine hoped the horns would not be used on her. Quickly, she thrust the bucket beneath the cow before either had time to think better of the situation.

To Madeleine’s surprise warm milk was already streaming from the taut, swollen udder. The thin jets dribbled into her bucket, but too slowly to be of any use. Madeleine would still have to do the dreadful deed.

She reached forward—withdrew nervously—then reached again. Finally, gathering all her courage she leant forward and gave two of the leathery teats a hard pinch.

With a bellow of pained surprise the cow sprang up in the air like a coney, kicking over the bucket which rolled away in a spatter of droplets.

‘My love, what on earth are you doing?’ Leaning his scythe against the hedge, Philip vaulted the stile and ran to meet her.

‘I was trying—I wanted to show you all that I could do it—’

‘Then why didn’t you ask? I would have shown you!’

Madeleine looked towards the lane where Michael was whistling nonchalantly.

‘You’ve got your own work to do. Michael needs you...’

‘He can wait for five minutes.’ He bent and kissed the top of her head. ‘Run back to the donkey cart—you’ll find a rope for tying up the wanderers in there, and four little black-painted dishes.’

Madeleine did as she was told. By the time she returned Philip had retrieved both bucket and stool, and calmed the cow.

‘It’s a ticklish business, Madeleine,’ he said, taking the strip dishes from her. ‘Some of these long hairs can get caught in your fingers and pulled, which hurts them.’

Expertly he drew a sample of milk from each teat into a separate dish. The creamy milk clung to the black-painted tin as he studied it.

‘If there are any spots of blood or little clots in this first milk then you must keep that cow separate.’ He emptied the strip dishes on to the grass and stood up with a laugh. ‘Now it’s your turn. Sit here, and I’ll show you. No—don’t pinch her! How would you like it if I did that to you?’ he whispered secretly into her ear. Madeleine gasped and giggled at such shocking talk, but Philip had already slid his hands over hers. As he worked her fingers through the actions, the old cow swung her head around and started to lick his shoulder thoughtfully.

‘This one lost her calf,’ he said between fending off the cow’s huge, slug-like tongue. ‘She misses something to be fond of!’

‘I hope she doesn’t think she can get fond of me like that,’ Madeleine said, keeping one eye on the cow’s great head looming behind Philip’s shoulder. Froths of milk cascaded intermittently into the bucket, when Madeleine could manage to get her fingers moving in the right sequence.

‘Is that enough?’ she asked hopefully when there was nearly an inch of milk at the bottom of the bucket.

Philip bent around her even more intimately. ‘It’s only enough when you’ve got all that up there,’ he prodded the bulging udder, ‘down into this bucket!’

‘But my wrists hurt!’

‘That means you’re doing it properly, then. Well done!’

Madeleine took her mind off the job in hand and looked about at the numerous cows languishing in the watermeadows.

‘It will take forever!’ she wailed.

‘Oh, no. It can’t. You’ll have to have it finished by eight o’clock, or that pretty little French dairymaid will be on your tail!’

Philip hugged her close and encouraged the method from her slow, uncertain fingers. Soon there was nearly a full bucket of milk before them, still wisping with warmth.

‘Just in time for Mother’s arrival. Now all you have to do is get the bucket out from under the cow without either emptying it over yourself or the beast putting her foot in it.’

Following Philip’s instructions Madeleine stood up, then moved the stool out of her way before picking up the bucket.

‘Excellent, my dear!’ Mistress Constance called from the lane. ‘I was wondering how Philip managed to court a young lady who didn’t play duets!’

Philip carried the bucket of milk to the stile, handing it over to his brother before crossing. Madeleine did not follow him immediately, but leaned against the rail to catch her breath.

‘I am exhausted! I never would have thought that such a silly thing took so much energy!’

‘Cheer up, mademoiselle—only another thirty-five more to do before breakfast!’

‘Michael! Don’t tease the child! Don’t worry, Madeleine—one is enough for your first attempt. Higgins and I can manage—we have some girls walking up from the village to help out. You’re promoted to head cook and bottle washer in the dairy for the next few days—we’ll bring you the milk, then you must deal with it!’

Over the next few days Madeleine was busier than she had ever been in the laundries of Paris. When she wasn’t scalding cloths or scrubbing pans she was ironing cheese bandages or drying towels.
        In her spare time she actually managed to do some dairying.

The village girls who helped with the milking did stare at her at first, whispering and giggling, but Madeleine was far too busy to notice. Once she had set them to work turning the stored cheeses and brushing down the shelves the girls soon realised that Madeleine was not to be dismissed as a poor girl pretending to be something she wasn’t. Madeleine meant business.

At one o’clock each day Madeleine and the girls loaded the donkey cart with provisions and set off for the farthest wheat field.

Everyone was working - even Kitty. Since the recent arrival of little Benjamin from France, she had been busy learning how to keep him amused.