by Lady Rascal
Outflanked but unwilling to sulk in front of Adamson and her father, Kitty pursed her lips and linked arms with Madeleine. They set off to the drapers, with the men close behind.
Madeleine did not find keeping close order with Kitty a particularly pleasant sensation. The girl would only take silly, mincing little steps, and tended to hang heavily on Madeleine’s arm like some sort of unlucky charm. Soft and pink and white, Kitty reminded Madeleine of the little tea-time marshmallows at Willowbury. She found herself wondering if Kitty would bounce, like they did when accidentally dropped from the tea plate.
‘Ah, Kitty! What a pleasant surprise!’ Mistress Constance lied all too plainly through her teeth.
‘I’ve come to help dear Madeleine choose her materials,’ Kitty mewed prettily.
‘Oh, what a shame—just as I’d nearly decided on this watered silk...’
‘Aha!’ Kitty gave a little giggling shrug. ‘What a pretty choice! Look, Philip—exactly the same shade as my eyes!’
I could soon fix that, Madeleine thought blackly, then remembered that the sooner she extracted what she wanted from Kitty the sooner she could ignore her completely.
‘Never mind, Miss Kitty—I shall need ribbons and threads—you can come over here and help me choose those...’ Madeleine led her to an open-topped counter packed with buttons, swansdown and other bare necessities. Well away from the cutting and packing of materials and the conversations of their elders, Madeleine wasted no time in coming straight to the point.
‘I need your help,’ she breathed as the two girls looked over the delicacies.
Kitty said nothing, and, although Madeleine pretended to be engrossed in ribbon samples, she felt the other girl studying her intensely.
‘Let me have Michael’s address. It’s cruelty itself to force Master Philip into running Willowbury. All he wants is to go back to his studies. It isn’t fair, when his brother sounds so suited to the farm...’
‘I don’t know where he is,’ Kitty said sullenly.
‘Oh, but I think you do, Miss Pettigrew!’ Madeleine looked up and smiled innocently.
Kitty had a piece of corded frogging in her fingers, turning it about. ‘He jilted me. He went away and I haven’t seen him from that day to this.’
The frogging started to rotate a little faster between her fingers.
‘I don’t believe you.’
Kitty stared openly at Madeleine, with insolence behind the hard blue innocence of her eyes.
‘Michael doesn’t want me anymore. Actions speak louder than words.’
Time was running out. There might not be another chance to buttonhole Kitty so neatly.
‘How’s the baby?’ Madeleine hissed desperately.
The effect on Kitty was immediate. Her face froze into a terrified mask, and she gasped.
‘Ssh!’ Madeleine knew she had to work fast. Grabbing Kitty by the elbow, she half dragged her out of the shop. The grey horror on the girl’s face was proof enough of a threatened faint.
Once outside the stuffy little draper’s shop a miraculous change came over Kitty. Any air of hardened sophistication crumbled away. For a moment she looked as frightened as Madeleine felt.
‘He said he wouldn’t tell anybody—ever—ever—’
‘Don’t panic,’ Madeleine said, panicking. ‘I don’t count as anybody—if you do as I say.’
‘Why?’ Initial fear fading, Kitty started to look suspicious. ‘Oh, I know—blackmail. This place is full of your sort.’ She wrenched her arm from Madeleine’s grasp, but it was seized again.
‘No—far from it. Why don’t you and Michael finish what you began? Marry, and bring the baby back to settle at Willowbury?’
‘Nothing would give Father greater pleasure than to see me at Willowbury.’ Kitty regarded her, frost creeping back into her eyes. ‘And only two things are in the way. One is little Benjamin Arthur Edward, as you well know, but the most damning thing is Mickey himself. He really has cast me aside now, mademoiselle.’
Madeleine hadn’t thought of that possibility. In her desolation she forgot all about tact.
‘What happened?’
Concentrating on the ruffles of swansdown around her cuffs, Kitty had to swallow hard several times before speaking.
‘I didn’t know what to do—the baby would keep crying, and I was alone there with nobody but Aunt Izzy. Mickey was away working for weeks at a time— that’s all he ever thinks about—and I didn’t have anybody to talk to...Madeleine, it was horrible...’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake don’t cry!’ Madeleine whispered desperately. She could hardly be seen making Kitty feel worse.
‘The first—the very first time I went out, from the time I left England, was the night of the sub. When you saw me.’ Kitty sniffled into her handkerchief. ‘I—I’d forgotten what it was like to have fun, and laugh...While I was out, Mickey arrived at Aunt Izzy’s for a surprise visit. When I got back, he’d been waiting for hours. He said...horrible things—that he hadn’t walked twelve miles to come and visit me, only to find that I was out playing fast and loose. He said I wasn’t fit to be a mother, and it’s true...I’m not...’
Madeleine put her arms around Kitty and hugged her. It was the only thing to do.
‘If he’d walked twelve miles after working himself into the ground I shouldn’t think he would have been in a mood to be civil to anyone. Jack Pritchard was telling me how fond Michael always was of you, Kitty—I expect it was just a silly argument, like everyone has at times.’
Kitty had recovered a little, but a shadow passed over her china-blue eyes as she shook her head. ‘No. He left us in a furious rage. Next morning I went to the room he rented when he came on visits, but he wasn’t there. The streets were full of ruffians, and people drinking, and shouting...I was so frightened, Madeleine! I threw a few things into the coach and went to the little farm that Mickey had bought for us. He wasn’t there either. I waited for him, but he never came. In the end, I panicked. I didn’t know what I was doing. All I could think of was to run back home to Highlands...’
‘Will the baby be safe?’
‘Oh, yes—Aunt Izzy did most things for it anyway. I was such a hopeless idiot.’
‘I’m sure you weren’t, Kitty. Little Benjamin would rather have your honest love and kisses than all the skill in the world.’
‘You sound just like Philip,’ Kitty said, starting to shimmer with tears again. ‘Mum says I’m to forget all about Benjy and Mickey, and start again. Dad doesn’t know about...well, he thinks I got over Mickey ages ago, so he’s expecting me to be my old self again. I have to put on this act for him...it’s horrible, mademoiselle’
‘I know.’ With a sigh Madeleine put on a hopeful look. ‘We might be able to help each other, though— you and I. If you were to write to any addresses you might have for Michael—’
‘No! Oh, no—I couldn’t! He’ll never want to hear from me now that I’ve really abandoned poor little Benjy...’
‘Give me the addresses.’ Madeleine said with force. ‘I’ll sort something out, Kitty. Don’t you think Michael at least deserves to know why you ran away?’
Kitty pleated her handkerchief in distraction. ‘I tried to tell him how lonely I was. He wouldn’t listen...’
‘He might now, if it comes from a friend. If we keep it our secret, Kitty, nobody need know until you’ve found out one way or another, need they?’
Kitty’s rosebud mouth suddenly bloomed into a smile. In an instant she was scrabbling around in her purse and pressing a much-handled piece of paper into Madeleine’s hands.
‘Here—take it! But don’t tell a soul, will you? Dad’s so keen that I should make a good marriage—I don’t want to upset him—’
There was increased movement from inside the shop. Things seemed to be happening. Kitty slipped her arm into Madeleine’s and leaned against her confidingly. At that moment Philip himself opened the shop door and looked out to find them. When he saw the girls were apparently wrapped up
in conversation he smiled warmly.
‘Mother has finally decided upon the blue silk. If you have any strong objections to it, mademoiselle, I would urge caution. There is very little time left before the entertainment. Do you really wish to spend it all in shopping expeditions?’
‘No...no, Master Philip! I’d be more than happy to accept her choice...’
Madeleine found that she could no longer look him directly in the eye. The thought that she was gambling with his future happiness affected her more deeply than she liked to admit.
The coming entertainment provided a good excuse for Madeleine to visit Jack’s sister for more dancing lessons. Not only gavottes and minuets took place on the first occasion—Mistress Charlotte and Madeleine spent most of the time composing a secret letter to Michael Adamson.
Madeleine poured out details of poor Kitty’s distress at losing him, how Mistress Constance missed him so dreadfully each and every day, and, most importantly, how Philip was managing to work himself to death and go into a decline at one and the same time.
Charlotte reduced everything to the sort of polite English that wouldn’t give Michael instant heart failure. Without much hope of a reply, Madeleine put two letters on the afternoon coach herself, one copy to Michael’s farm and the other to his lodging in Paris.
She swore the long-suffering Charlotte to total secrecy, unable to bear the thought of raising Philip’s hopes without good cause. All that was left to her then was to wait.
And wait.
As the great day drew nearer, Higgins was sent over to Highlands with tickets for the county ball. The Pettigrews were delighted with the gift, and sent back a basket of peaches in return.
‘Ostentatious,’ Mistress Constance sniffed, rationing Madeleine to one fruit and putting the rest aside for conserving. Madeleine had only tasted spoiled peaches thrown from market barrows before, and the plumply fragrant fruit in its velvet jacket was a delight.
She saved the peach until that afternoon, when Jack arrived and they all went out into the garden for an hour. Here Madeleine soon discovered that there was even a right way, and a dreadfully wrong way of eating fruit. With some careful prompting from Jack, and Higgins on hand with a damp flannel, she took care to slice the remainder of her fruit and relish every slice rather more politely.
The slow crunch of gravel announced that Mistress Constance’s circuit of the garden was coming to an end. Rich fragrance burst from trailing herbs edging the path as Philip brought his mother back to the long, sun-warmed bench.
‘I see that you are keeping Mademoiselle Madeleine amused, Jack,’ he said distantly. The look he gave Madeleine as Jack handed her a napkin seemed no warmer. She remembered the passion he had once shown towards her. Their kisses in the orchard seemed so long ago now, but she still blushed.
‘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.