Free Christina Hollis by Lady Rascal

morning-room.
    Dressed in a cream and brown suit, he was as immaculately turned out as ever. Despite the reassuring shade of crimson he turned when first seeing Madeleine, his face that morning was grey as paper.
    Madeleine didn’t think he could possibly get any paler, but she was to be proved wrong. Precisely on the stroke of nine he went quite white. Delicious breakfast fragrances were wafting in with the rattling trolleys.
    A bowl of chilled fruit salad and a cup of hot honey and lemon were placed before Adamson without comment. Madeleine and Mistress Constance studiously ignored him as they chose their food and chattered about the weather.
    Evil mischief made Madeleine accept kidneys, eggs, bacon, sausages, morels and fried potato along with tea and toast. Despite her cruelty the chink of cutlery from Adamson’s end of the table soon announced that he was managing to force something down, at least.
    Madeleine winked at Mistress Constance. As she had predicted, he would survive.
    ‘That was an excellent concert last night, Master Philip. Such a shame that you missed the best bits.’
    Adamson stirred uncomfortably. When Madeleine glanced up he was looking at his mother.
    ‘I am well acquainted with the music already, mademoiselle. I assure you that version was no great loss.’
    ‘Oh, but the food was delicious! You should have stayed for that!’
    ‘Indeed,’ Mistress Constance said nervously. ‘I’ve noticed how much you enjoy your food, Madeleine.’
    Madeleine looked down at her plate. She had munched her way through an enormous heap of breakfast and was on her fourth dainty little cup of tea while her employer was merely pecking at her own meal.
    ‘It is a wonder that you remain so reed-slender, my dear.’
    ‘Nerves—that’s what it is, madame. I’m run ragged with nerves and worry!’
    Philip Adamson’s usual wintry expression had thawed a little, but he was quick to change the subject.
    ‘Despite the work of the new militia, I believe that there has been more trouble in the city overnight, ladies.’
    ‘They say that men are being sent out from the Bastille at night to slaughter innocent citizens. The city is full of it. Guns have been raided from Les Invalides, and now the citizens are on their way to stock up on the Bastille’s ammunition so they will be ready,’ Madeleine said hotly, all shame over her hearty appetite forgotten.
    ‘In which case I was right to insist that you two ladies leave as soon as possible. Circumstances may yet dictate that I join you. I will go out this morning to discover the truth behind all the rumours. Higgins will see to arrangements here while you both say your goodbyes around the city. But have a care.’ Here Adamson risked a quick glance at Madeleine. ‘Do not go alone, do not cross the river, keep well away from the National Assembly, and go no further east than Pont-Neuf.’
    That put all of Madeleine’s old stamping-grounds out of bounds. It was a shame, but for once she was glad to have few friends trustworthy enough to miss.
    Mistress Constance soon left to start arranging things and getting in the way of her staff. Madeleine dawdled over the remains of her last cup of tea. This was a chance to observe Adamson slyly. She was convinced he had been idling over his breakfast to try and get her alone again.
    A tiny grain of curiosity had been germinating within Madeleine since the events of the previous evening. From beneath lowered lashes she watched Adamson reach for the teapot, pour himself a second cup of tea, add the necessary sugar and stir it with his silver teaspoon. Such strong, purposeful hands. Madeleine remembered exactly how purposeful they could be, and shivered.
    ‘What can I say, mademoiselle?’ he burst out suddenly. ‘Any apology for my shameful display last evening would hardly be sufficient—’
    ‘You can’t take all the blame, sir. I was unwise.’ Although I’m still wondering what it might have been like, Madeleine thought