Christina Hollis (17 page)

‘Mistress Constance says you’re set fair for a record harvest this year. You’ll only be taking an advance on the money you’d get from selling a bit of that. Instead of owing to both Pettigrew and Pickersgill you could sell some things, pawn a few others, and pay them both off. Then you’d only have to worry about getting your goods out of hock when your luck changes—which it’s bound to, in a few weeks.’

‘That would be a reckless, foolhardy risk, mademoiselle! Anything could happen...’

‘Yes—you could find yourself answering the door one night to the sort of back-street brawler who can scratch his knees without bending down.’

‘Pettigrew wouldn’t resort to those tactics,’ Adamson said, but his thoughtful tone told Madeleine that Neighbour Pickersgill might.

‘Better not put it to the test. Remember—any fool can act the rich man, Master Philip. It takes real talent to be poor.’ Madeleine stood up and went quickly to the door, leaving Adamson with his increasing astonishment. The look on his face told her he would never dispose of anything from Willowbury to save his life. More drastic action was needed. She put on a look of wide-eyed innocence.

‘Mistress Constance recommended her dressmaker to me, Master Philip,’ she said casually. ‘I have some items for repair. I have a fancy to take them there this afternoon. Would you be kind enough to tell me the route to town? I shouldn’t take long about the business—’

‘You surely aren’t considering going alone?’

Madeleine was amazed. ‘Of course!’

‘Out of the question. I can’t allow you to do that. I shall come with you, mademoiselle.’

Madeleine was not so sure. ‘You don’t mind the two of us being seen walking alone together. . ?’

‘Walking? He was incredulous now. ‘You’ll take the coach from the crossroads, mademoiselle. I shall ride along behind.’

Adamson handed the coachman sufficient coins to let Madeleine travel inside the regular coach for the trip to Bath. Only when she was settling herself and her large brown paper parcel did a thought strike her. Perhaps Master Philip could not afford seats in the carriage for both of them. That was why he was going to ride.

If things were that bad she would have to be doubly sure to make plenty of money. The four dresses from her collection that she had chosen to pawn were pretty enough, and expensively fashioned. Master Philip might as well have the use of any money they might raise.

The coach ground to a halt, and after a whispered conversation outside the door was wrenched open. A heavily built man, surprisingly light on his feet, sprang in as the carriage lurched forward once more. Until that time only two other travellers had been sharing the coach with Madeleine, and they squeezed up among the postal packets to make room on the seat. Madeleine preferred to look out of the window.

When the newcomer took a seat beside her she gave him only the briefest of acknowledgements. She was soon to regret even that.

‘That’s the last time I travel in one of your nasty English coaches.’ Madeleine made a great show of turning away to admire her reflection in the glazed panes of the coaching inn as Adamson hurried to her side. ‘A nasty man squished me into the corner all the way—then, worse and worse, when we get here I find that he is a friend of yours and that you went off with him and left me standing here like an orange!’

Adamson smiled, but didn’t correct her. ‘I’m sorry, mademoiselle, but that was Sir Edwin Pickersgill. I had to make sure he didn’t linger around here—’

‘What you mean is, you didn’t want him to see us together.’ She straightened her bonnet in the glass, then gave Adamson a hard stare.

‘As it turned out, he was rather more interested in making a quick escape from my company, in any case.’

‘Good. I hate him!’

‘Oh, mademoiselle! You don’t know the gentleman!’

‘A funny sort of gentleman who spends his time squishing up against decent girls,’ Madeleine stated firmly as she picked up her parcel.

‘I’m sure that must have been accidental, mademoiselle. Perhaps the coach was short of room—’

‘He soon managed to put plenty of space between us when I asked him to remove his hand from my knee. Very loudly,’ she added with satisfaction. Adamson paled and took Madeleine’s parcel from her.

‘How could you embarrass a neighbour like that?’ he muttered bleakly. ‘Especially when you know how things stand!’

‘How could you borrow money from such a wicked man?’

‘Sir Edwin is a neighbour who offered to help me in time of need, mademoiselle.’

‘He has a nose like a strawberry.’

‘Ssh!’

‘But it’s true!’

‘I don’t want to hear any more, mademoiselle!’

HIs dismissal was sharp, but a sidelong glance as he walked beside her showed Madeleine that he was still smiling.

‘Perhaps you are right. We should not be seen together, Master Philip. Give me the parcel, and I’ll meet you here later.’

She went to take the bundle of dresses from his hand, but he did not let them go.

‘I’m coming with you,’ he said uncomfortably. They both knew that was the last thing he wanted to do. Madeleine extracted the parcel strings from his grasp with one flick of her wrist and took charge of it.

‘I’m very grateful, sir, but there are certain places that a lady must go alone...’

To her dismay he wasn’t so easily fobbed off.

‘Oh, no, mademoiselle—this dressmaker is most discreet, with a waiting-room for gentlemen. I’ve accompanied Mother on several occasions.’

‘Who says I’m only going to the dressmaker?’ Madeleine smiled archly. Shock tactics would be sure to stop him discovering the real reason for her journey. ‘Mistress Constance said that I wasn’t even to mention the corsetiere in your hearing, but if you insist on knowing where I shall be—’

‘Oh...’

Madeleine continued before he was completely covered in confusion. ‘We’re bound to pass a coffee-shop on the way. You can wait there while I’m busy.’ At this point, she mistook the look of concern on his face. ‘Don’t worry—ask for fruit cup and a jug of water. That’s cheap enough, and you can make one drink last as long as you like!’

When they met again, Madeleine had acquired the vast sum of seven pounds in exchange for her exclusive Paris fashions. She was so overcome by this that she immediately told Adamson the truth, and tried to hand him the money.
        To her amazement, he flatly refused to take charge of it.

‘I can’t possibly accept money from a lady!’ he hissed, trying desperately to look as though they were not together as they looked in the window of a confectioner’s shop.

‘What use is it to me, Master Philip? Willowbury provides me with food and lodgings. I’ll keep a bit back for sweets, if you don’t mind, but apart from that it’s all yours. It’ll be a bit off the debt, which will ease you a mite, which in turn makes life easier for all of us!’

This put him at a disadvantage, but he still wasn’t going to be seen giving in. ‘I don’t accept money from women,’ he said stiffly.

‘You’ve got no choice. What was that I overheard last night? Some little matter of Mistress Constance running up an account at the dressmakers? At least let me settle that worry for you, if you won’t take the money for Pickersgill and Pettigrew.’

Adamson said nothing in reply, but he did lead her towards a low-ceilinged little establishment much like the shop she had raided in Paris. Here she handed over most of her silver coins while the dressmaker simpered and Adamson died a silent death of embarrassment.

‘I’ll pay you back the money as soon as possible, mademoiselle,’’ he muttered quietly as he walked her back to the coaching point.

‘Don’t worry about that. As long as I’m in employment with Mistress Constance I have all I need, sir. Food, lodgings...’ here she almost mentioned company as well, but thought he might consider that too forward ‘...and entertainment...’

‘Precious little of that lately.’ Adamson directed her towards a coach that was about to leave by the London road. ‘Only the Pettigrews’ tea-drinking to look forward to.’

‘Oh, here you are, for heaven’s sake!’ Madeleine caught up his hand and slapped a few coins into it before he had time to protest. ‘Go and buy yourself some lunch, Master Philip. My treat. I’ll be as safe travelling home alone as I was when you were riding along behind.’

To her relief he accepted this suggestion with little argument. As soon as he had turned the corner out of the coaching yard, Madeleine heaved a sigh of relief and slipped away from the boarding coach.

She had taken care to memorise the route it had used to bring her to Bath. Now she would save the return fare by walking. Not only might this prove a help to the Adamsons’ slender finances—it would also save her from another encounter with the likes of Sir Edwin Pickersgill.

Philip Adamson rode through the gates of Willowbury shortly after Madeleine had reached home on foot. She was sure he noticed her as she unpegged the dry dairy cloths, but he hurried straight on into the house.

The library door was usually kept closed against the Willowbury dogs, but when Madeleine went back to the house it was standing ajar. After a moment’s thought she decided against going in. If Master Philip didn’t want to know me when I was outside, then he’ll have to do without me now, she thought crossly.

She retired to her pink and white bedroom. Mistress Constance had given her an old exercise book in which to copy out English words and phrases, and Madeleine spent her afternoon struggling with that. She finished work only when she heard Adamson come upstairs as though to change for tea.

As things turned out, Madeleine was to take tea alone. Adamson did not leave his room until Mistress Constance returned, just before dinner. He was quiet over the meal, but that was nothing particularly out of the ordinary.

Madeleine thought nothing of it at the time, but when he did not join them for breakfast next morning she began to wonder. The thought did flit through her mind that perhaps she really had offended him by handing over the money. Then she dismissed the idea. It was ridiculous, and in any case she could buttonhole him about his reticence later that morning when she went to collect the milk for the dairy work.

However, when she went to collect the donkey cart of milk churns Adamson was nowhere to be seen.

‘What’ve you done to him, miss?’ Higgins laughed as he led the cart up to her. ‘He don’t usually leave me with this job!’

That was true enough. Each day, Adamson always reached the corner of the lane at exactly the same time that Madeleine did, but not this morning. A walk of the boundaries had evidently been in order, instead.

A little sadly, Madeleine decided that this time she really had ruined any hopes of a brief romance. Master Philip was only interested in avoiding her, and she was certainly not going to throw herself after him.

The weather stayed fine for the next few days. Many and various were the ways that Philip Adamson found to avoid her, but Madeleine let him. If he felt uncomfortable in her presence, then it would give her no pleasure to torture him. She confined herself to a brief smile on the rare occasions they happened to meet. With her regular routine of dairy work, looking after the poultry and mending linen with Mistress Constance in the drawing-room, Madeleine could be easily found at any time of day.
        During this time she made two more visits to Jack’s sister. There she learnt three or four easy dances so that she wouldn’t disgrace herself at the Pettigrews’ tea-drinking. At the same time she could practise her English, and her manners.

To her dismay she learned that young ladies could never simply dance with whom they chose. She must wait to be asked, and fill her dance-card like everyone else. This put an end to all romantic thoughts of being whirled around the floor by Philip Adamson. He was gradually beginning to thaw again towards her, but he made very sure that they were never alone together nowadays.

When the great day of the tea-drinking came Madeleine and Mistress Constance finished the dairy duties early in the day. The gathering was to start at three o’clock. Evenings were already beginning to draw in, and Mistress Constance calculated that at worst they could expect only five hours of the Pettigrews’ idea of entertainment.

The Adamsons had only decided to attend in view of Mr Pettigrew’s scrawled addition on the bottom of their invitation—’PS: everyone’s coming!’

In view of that, it would have been impolite to refuse and there was at least safety in a crowd. The Pettigrews would be diluted with a houseful of guests.

Jack Pritchard arrived after lunch, saying he thought it more reasonable to arrive as a group. One look at his face told Madeleine that he was only going to keep up appearances, too.

Everyone was ready in plenty of time, but as the carriage was being brought round to the front door a message came from Higgins out in Far Meadow. Adamson at once went to sort things out, while the others waited in the parlour.

With Jack to jolly them along, conversation soon turned to the matter of dancing and Madeleine’s secret lessons.

‘Oh, but you must show me what you’ve learnt!’ Mistress Constance clapped her hands in delight. ‘Go on, Jack, you can be Madeleine’s partner!’

The parlour was not laid out for dancing, but Jack soon pushed the wooden settles aside and made room. After a few false starts and a lot of giggling, Jack and Madeleine managed most of their movements in an imaginary gavotte before Adamson returned.

Despite his mother’s laughter he would not watch the dance, but instead poured himself a glass of lemonade with his back turned towards them.

‘Doesn’t Madeleine dance prettily, Philip?’

‘If the Pettigrews do not think the gavotte too old-fashioned for their modern tastes.’ He sipped his drink then turned as though sensing Madeleine’s disappointment. ‘Yes—mademoiselle dances very prettily indeed. Although it is a shame about her partner,’ he finished with a rueful smile at Jack.

Madeleine was about to ask Adamson to show how much better he could do, but remembered the warnings Jack’s sister Charlotte had given her about decorum.

‘I must confess Jack is the only person who has been kind enough to suffer my attempts at dancing so far, Master Philip.’