Christina Hollis Read Online Free Page A

whole business. Everything about Adamson seemed the epitome of strength and vigour. From the luxuriance of his dark hair to the trim line of his breeches and gleaming boots, all was the picture of an ideal young man. Madeleine sensed that any strong passions lurking beneath that cool exterior were held very severely in check.
    She submitted to his dull questions about her health while he tapped his way over her back and chest. Even then he did not ask Madeleine to remove the all-concealing nightgown, to her great relief.
    ‘Good.’ He stood up, taking the tray before Madeleine had an opportunity to snatch anything from it. ‘It may be better for your digestion, mademoiselle, to sit in your bed rather than crouch over a meal here.’
    Anyone else might have laughed at her, but Madeleine was quickly learning that Philip Adamson was not one for ready amusement.
    She settled herself as he suggested, pulling up the coverlet for modesty. That was far too hot. Before he could place the tray on her knees Madeleine threw back the covers once more, leaving only a thin sheet covering her.
    He remained unmoved. ‘If there is anything at all that you require, mademoiselle, simply ring for Betsy.’
    He indicated a thick tapestry bell-pull, flounced with golden tassels. That minor detail of villa life would have cost Madeleine the wages from several years of laundry work.
    She continued to stare at the bell-pull until Adamson said softly, ‘Eat well, mademoiselle. I trust your sleep will not suffer overmuch from the rascals of the slums.’
    He bowed once more, and this time Madeleine caught a suspicion of amusement in his attitude.
    ‘Indeed, mademoiselle, perhaps it would be as well to lock the shutters if you intend to leave your window open. I am surprised you are not more wary of the dangers brought by nocturnal visitors.’
    Turning on his heel, he went swiftly out of the door and closed it behind him.
    Strange man! Madeleine thought, as she fell on the food with an eagerness unbecoming a lady. He picks up a complete stranger in a rough part of town, then treats me like this and with no strings attached. Not yet, anyway. And he can have no more idea than a cat of who I am, or where I’ve been!
    He had nice hands, though.
    Madeleine thought a lot about his hands later, as she lay listening to the faint sounds of merriment from outside.
    Strong hands, light of touch and delicate without being soft.
    Like his kisses would be, Madeleine thought with a giggle.
    What a shame Philip Adamson seemed unwilling to put either his lips or hands to the purpose they were so perfectly designed for.

CHAPTER TWO
    For a split second Madeleine thought she was back in the laundry. It took another thumping, rattling clatter to bring her fully to her senses.
        She hadn’t been dreaming in a fever—all her borrowed finery was still in place, and she really was holding centre stage in a fancy bedroom.
    Better even than that, breakfast was arriving for her in fine style. The maid wheeled in a trolley of fragrant food then went to throw back the shutters, wittering away all the while. Madeleine picked out the words ‘Master Philip’ and ‘Mistress Constance’, but the rest was nothing but the chatter of starlings to her.
    She wriggled off the bed to study the dainties that had been brought. It would have been a big disappointment if she hadn’t been so hungry. Instead of the enormous breakfast everyone said the English enjoyed, the mahogany trolley was set with ordinary food—if of superior quality.
    Warm breakfast rolls—both white and coloured— foam-light brioche, pastry horns and crescents peeped out from the folds of snowy white cloths.
    A little silver dish set with glass pots of honey, syrup and preserves stood to one side of her breakfast plate. On the other side was a bowl of butter curls. Madeleine viewed this with suspicion, then dug out a fleck of butter and tasted it.
    At once her face crumpled in a grimace. It was