by Lady Rascal
As he spoke, Adamson grasped Madeleine by the upper arms and gave her a little shake. There was no doubting the gravity of his words.
‘French society must be a bear-garden compared with England. You would be well advised to keep your mouth shut in future. Understand?’
He was scowling fiercely, and all trace of humanity had gone from his expression. There was none of the gentle look he had used towards her in front of the Pettigrews.
‘Shouldn’t you be attending to Cook?’ Madeleine said in confusion.
Adamson let her go with an exclamation. ‘Cook is even now busy preparing our dinner. Her headache was only a device invented by Higgins, who knows only how disliked the Pettigrews are about the county. He was trying to discourage the extra guests that you so kindly invited in...’
With an exclamation of disdain Adamson cast her aside and marched off towards the kitchen.
‘But I didn’t invite them in...’ Madeleine began, but let her voice trail away. It was hopeless. Adamson had thrown open the kitchen door and stormed inside. Madeleine followed him only because she was afraid to return to the drawing-room empty-handed.
Once in the kitchen Adamson showed not the slightest sign of his anger, so Madeleine confronted him with it.
‘I didn’t invite the Pettigrews in. I just said—’
‘Not in front of the staff, mademoiselle.’ He turned to her with a mild expression.
‘All the same, I only said—’
‘Mademoiselle!’
For an instant his eyes crackled cold fury before his voice if not his features regained some of their calm.
‘I shall have Cook pack up eggs and honey for our guests. You will wait in the hall until it is ready, mademoiselle.’
His stare was enough to make Madeleine head for the door. He might hate life at Willowbury, but that’s no excuse to take it out on me, she thought mutinously.
She was halfway along the hall when the front door knocker thudded. Thinking to save Higgins a job and squeeze herself back into favour, Madeleine hurried forward to open it.
Standing outside was the Reverend Mr Wright, and he had a companion. At his side was a girl of about fifteen, soberly dressed in a green linen gown and modest cap.
‘Ah, Madeleine!’ the parson began, and stepped forward as though to enter.
‘So sorry, sir—there’s nothing for dinner, and we’re quite full with Pettigrews already—’ Madeleine began helpfully, but before she could close the door on yet more unwanted guests Philip Adamson had dashed up from the kitchen and bundled her aside without ceremony.
‘Come in!’ He smiled at the visitors, throwing the front door open wide. As they passed him and went into the hall, Adamson shot another fearsome look at Madeleine.
‘Never shut the door to guests. Especially not our neighbours! Don’t you know anything?’
Madeleine watched his anger dissolve into marked delight as he greeted Mr Wright and his companion. She closed the door quietly and tried to merge in with the background. Today had been nothing but a disaster.
Even her judgement was letting her down now—at first Madeleine had thought the young girl with the Reverend Mr Wright looked retiring and demure. Now she seemed anything but as she stepped forward in response to Adamson’s outstretched hand.
Her eyes were alight, and not only with the low rays of evening sun.
It seemed that Madeleine had another rival, besides the dreaded Kitty.
‘How delightful that you should have accompanied your father, Miss Leonora. A friendly dinner at Willowbury might perhaps encourage you to attempt more socialising.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Dimpling and dazzling, Leonora dropped Adamson a curtsy. She was as fair as Kitty, but on a larger scale. A generous mouth and large pale eyes gave her a winsome charm rather than Kitty’s flashy good looks.
Madeleine hated this Leonora on sight.
‘We’ve come to save the day!’ The Reverend Mr Wright gave Madeleine a knowing smile. ‘Surely even the Pettigrews will know better than to outstay their welcome, Philip?’ he murmured as their host led the way to the drawing-room.
Leonora turned her winning smile upon Madeleine. Although the French girl had been determined that Leonora’s charm would cut no ice with her, there was little she could do but return it.
‘Father was telling me all about you on the way here,’ she twinkled brightly. ‘Can you really whistle all the Brandenburg Concerti, mademoiselle? Would you teach me?’
‘Leonora! Really!’ the parson reproached his daughter, but both he and Adamson were laughing.
‘I’m surprised that Master Philip makes such a matter public knowledge, Miss Leonora.’ Madeleine crackled a look at Adamson, who was still laughing as he pushed open the drawing-room door. ‘He always scolds me roundly for enjoying music so.’
‘Talk between good friends doesn’t make a matter public, Mademoiselle Madeleine,’ Adamson countered affably.
They entered the room to a delighted greeting from Mr Pettigrew. Adamson strolled over to stand beside the empty fireplace then held out his hands to Leonora, who moved gracefully towards him. Slipping her arm around his waist, she settled herself comfortably at his side. Little Mrs Pettigrew tugged at her husband’s sleeve and whispered frantically.
‘Oh—er—seems like we might be making a bit of a fawks pass,’ Pettigrew puffed out his rosy cheeks and rocked on his heels. ‘This here looking to be a bit of a private party in the making, Enid reckons the ettikit is that we should make tracks. If we’re not invited...’
His sudden and unaccustomed awkwardness was just as quickly suffered by everyone else. With relief Madeleine saw Adamson’s expression immediately thaw towards the social outcasts, but his mother had seen it, too.
‘Such a shame that we’ve got nothing more than bread and cheese to offer tonight, and precious little of that!’ she gushed, taking Mrs Pettigrew’s arm. The little woman immediately took this as a sign that she was to be escorted from the premises, and went meekly. Mr Pettigrew backed out of the room with less dignity and more embarrassment.
‘Well...that’s it, then... Must be going... Nice to have seen you all...’
‘We’ll have to invite you to dinner properly.’ Philip Adamson was genuinely full of remorse, and not only at the thought of entertaining the Pettigrews on some future unhappy occasion.
The look Mr Pettigrew gave him showed that their embarrassment was mutual.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the drawing-room until Mistress Constance returned with the welcome news that the Pettigrews had completed their strategic withdrawal.
‘Thank goodness for that!’ She fanned herself with lavender-scented lace. ‘If you hadn’t arrived, dear Reverend, who knows how much more of that we would have had to endure?’
Madeleine watched Adamson as his mother convinced their visitors into staying for dinner. He looked to be engrossed in Leonora’s light and pretty conversation, but Madeleine sensed that the business with Pettigrew had given him pause for thought.
Beneath the benevolent gaze of her father and Mistress Constance, Leonora dazzled. ‘I’ve never eaten dinner away from home before!’ she said excitedly, looking up at Adamson.
Let’s hope you aren’t expecting to take lessons in manners from me, Madeleine thought, beginning to worry. Thank goodness the guests were only a country vicar and his daughter. Everyone in England seemed to look down on the clergy.
At once Mistress Constance reassured Madeleine that they would not be bothering to change for dinner, as it was to be a meal with old friends. Madeleine tried not to show her astonishment at the thought of changing out of perfectly clean clothes that had been fresh out of the wardrobe only a couple of hours before.
While Mr Wright took a glass of wine, Adamson escorted Leonora off for a tour of the lawn. Arm in arm they strolled through the open garden doors.
‘A pretty couple,’ Mistress Constance began, but the parson anticipated her.
‘I hope you do
not allow Mr Pettigrew to hear you saying such things, ma’am!’ He chuckled. ‘Our friend often says what a good match his Kitty would be for Philip!’
Madeleine feigned innocence. ‘Doesn’t Master Philip have a say in the matter?’
Mistress Constance and the parson exchanged a quick glance. ‘He’s so secretive about such things, Madeleine, that only the county gossip provides any information. He certainly wouldn’t stoop to tell us himself!’
Before Madeleine could reply, the circuit of the front lawn was completed and the happy couple came within earshot of the garden doors again. Mistress Constance quickly raised her voice.
‘Ah, Philip. I was telling Mr Wright how sorry you were to come home from Paris.’
Adamson led Leonora into the room as Betsy arrived to announce dinner.
‘Paris is long ago and far away now, Mother.’ He bent and kissed Mistress Constance lightly. ‘Don’t you agree, Mademoiselle Madeleine?’
‘Indeed, sir.’ Madeleine revived a little when he showed no signs of his earlier anger towards her. ‘And thought all the better of for it.’
The company laughed, and prepared to go in to their meal. The Reverend Mr Wright took Mistress Constance by the arm, and Adamson escorted Leonora.
Madeleine was left to tag along behind, like a cow’s tail.
The dining-room radiated a warmth that almost made Madeleine forget her earlier shame. The oak-panelled room was decorated with heavy velvet draperies in rich currant-red, enlivened by gold braiding and tassels. Although there were no mats or rugs, the wide floorboards had been polished to a shimmer of deep antique bronze.
While the party were conversing in the sitting-room, Higgins had dressed up the table and laid two extra places. Crystal glasses, fine silver and decanters were all on display while an arrangement of pink roses spilled over the purity of a white cloth.
The Adamsons and their guests all sat at one end of the long dining table, so that conversation would not be strained by distance. As hostess, Mistress Constance sat at the head, with the parson on her left and Leonora on her right. Madeleine sat beside Mr Wright. Although only the table’s width separated her from Adamson, she felt a great gulf opening between them.
He laughed, and spoke entertainingly to Leonora and her father. Adamson was never as animated when he spoke to Madeleine.
Except when he was angry with her.
Madeleine had to keep her wits about her during the meal. With such a battery of cutlery laid out her first reaction was one of horror.
She had to devise subtle methods of delay so that she could watch the others. Looking for her handkerchief, dropping her napkin, or fiddling with the catch of her bracelet all gave her time to see which implement the others went for.
The only major mistake she was aware of came with the soup. In an eagerness of perpetual hunger Madeleine slit open her bread roll with a knife before noticing that everyone else had torn the bread apart with their fingers. Like peasants.
She saw, and remembered.
‘Do you find England differs greatly from your native land, Mademoiselle Madeleine?’ the parson enquired kindly.
Madeleine had been reprimanded for speaking with her mouth full before. This time she took care to swallow hurriedly before replying.
‘People seem much the same in both countries, sir. Although I must confess that your fingerbowls have me intrigued. At home we use vessels like this to drink from.’
Adamson paused in his conversation with Leonora.
‘Really? I never heard tell of that during our stay. It must be regional to your part of the country, mademoiselle.’
Yes—the poor part, Madeleine thought but smiled and said, ‘Indeed, Master Philip, it must be as regional as poverty is in England. I declare—I haven’t seen a poor person since I arrived at Willowbury!’
‘And a good thing too.’ Mistress Constance fanned herself with her napkin, setting her cap ribbons fluttering. ‘All the country people around here are well cared for, Madeleine. It’s only agents provocateurs sent over by the French that pass as beggarly malcontents here. Oh! Madeleine—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean...’
Madeleine shrugged off the apology with a smile.
‘Mademoiselle Madeleine couldn’t possibly be mistaken for an agent provocateur, could you, my dear?’ The parson chuckled. ‘In any case, those rascals are in for a shock if they think they can whip England into a revolution like their own. They can’t beat us fair and square, so they have to resort to that. Pah!’
The Reverend Mr Wright continued to mutter into his glass, but his daughter looked apprehensive.
‘It won’t come to that, will it? Not a revolution here in England?’
Leonora caught lightly at Adamson’s arm as she spoke and he smiled down at her indulgently.
‘There, Leonora—don’t distress yourself. I regret that your talk is upsetting the ladies, Reverend. Mademoiselle Madeleine in particular must be troubled by reference to the conduct of some of her countrymen.’
The parson dabbed at his mouth nervously with his napkin and changed the subject as instructed.
They spoke of the weather, the harvest to come and stock. Most of the details went over Madeleine’s head, but then, she was more concerned in impressing Leonora.
This wasn’t difficult. The girl was so nervous, she looked to Madeleine with some awe. This was despite the fact that Madeleine had begun the meal still wearing her cotton mittens. Only when Mistress Constance gave her a reminder were they removed to their proper place beside her plate.
There was so much to remember. Keeping company with Mistress Constance had prepared her for most things, but Madeleine was still apprehensive as the ladies were escorted back to the sitting-room after dinner.
‘I hope you enjoyed the meal as much as I did, mademoiselle,’ Leonora chirruped. ‘Our circumstances prevent me from enjoying society as much as I might, but of course dear Philip is very kind.’
I’ll bet he is, Madeleine thought, smiling carefully.
‘Unfortunately I lack the English social graces you excel in, Miss Leonora. I found it difficult this evening as Master Philip and his mother were acting as host and hostess. I must admit to feeling a little cast adrift!’
‘Then that must be rectified at all costs, mademoiselle.’ Suddenly Adamson was beside them. ‘Perhaps you and Miss Leonora could become better acquainted while we take a last walk around the grounds?’
That was a surprise. Madeleine smiled coyly and murmured about not wishing to disturb their companionship, but Adamson was not to be denied.
‘I should be honoured by your company, Mademoiselle Madeleine. Does that not make the request an order?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, but beneath the meekness was a tinge of defiance.
Romance dulled by duty, Madeleine followed Leonora and her Philip out into the dusky garden.
Peacock silhouettes mounted the gently sloping tree branches. The noisy birds were reduced to black shapes muffled against the deep blue of approaching night.
‘Aren’t you going to take my arm, mademoiselle?’ Adamson called as he turned to see what had delayed her. ‘I’ve never taken the place of a briar between lilies before. The thought appeals, I think.’
Leonora giggled, and Madeleine accepted Adamson’s offered arm grudgingly. All three walked to the post and rails fence that separated lawn from river-bank.
‘If we’re very quiet, the badgers may come down to drink. What breeze there is seems to be in our favour.’
‘Philip... I don’t know...’ Leonora began to move away.
‘You aren’t afraid, are you, little one? Mademoiselle— what about you? Badgers are a little smaller than my mother’s heifers, but no less heavy-footed!’
Madeleine didn’t know what a badger was, but the confiding lilt of his voice made her hang on tight to his arm. Such a pleasant fragrance always hung about Adamson, redolent of spice and expensive spirit. It mingled with the smell of his new jacket crackling beneath he
r fingers.
He calmed Leonora and all three looked down into the water. Made oil-dark by twilight, it was dimpling with swirling plashes as trout played.
The yelp of a moorhen echoed through the watermeadows. Water bats slipped from their willow-roosts and started to hawk through the shadowy trees. Swooping to sip from the river, they made the tiniest of splashes, as though elves were dancing on the water.
All the activity did at least prise Madeleine’s attention from Adamson. When he moved to speak it was as though she was hearing his voice for the first time, and she jumped.
‘You two young ladies aren’t getting cold?’
Madeleine had been enjoying the peace and quiet too much to notice the light breeze. In contrast Leonora shivered daintily and asked to be escorted back.
‘I should like to have stayed a little longer,’ Madeleine said regretfully as they prepared to return. ‘I would like to know what makes all those little night noises. Mice, I suppose.’
Leonora squeaked at the very thought.
‘Perhaps another occasion can be arranged for us to enjoy the evening air together, mademoiselle.’
He was speaking to Madeleine but looking at Leonora. After helping the young girl to rearrange her wrap, he began rubbing her cold hands between his own. They laughed together with the ease of long companionship, and Madeleine felt even more of an outsider.
Mistress Constance and the parson stood at the garden doors, watching the trio wander back across the lawn.
‘Time for us to go home, I’m afraid,’ Wright called.
Leonora complained bitterly until Adamson reminded her with a laugh that young ladies should be meek and submissive in all things.
There were the usual leaving gifts to be collected from the pantry. Adamson and Leonora went off together to fetch them.
They were still laughing.
Madeleine tried to make polite conversation with the parson and Mistress Constance, but her heart wasn’t in it. Her mind kept wandering back to what Philip Adamson had said beside the river. Did he mean to invite her out alone?
That seemed highly unlikely. Madeleine knew she would probably be just a handy chaperon for his idlings with Leonora Wright.