upstairs was considerable.
At the top Madeleine cast about while Adamson swayed gently beside her.
‘Which way?’
He pointed unsteadily at a door which was a comforting distance from Mistress Constance’s room. Even Madeleine realised it would not be quite the done thing for a lady’s companion to be discovered in this sort of situation.
After they had battled to the room and got safely inside, Madeleine sat Adamson down on the bed. After checking that the house was still sleeping, she closed the door. Going back to him, she knelt down and started to remove his shoes and stockings.
‘What—what are you doing?’
‘I’ve told you. I’m putting you to bed.’
‘That’s a job for H-Higgins...’
‘You can’t disturb him in the middle of the night just because you’re too moody to go to bed at a decent time.’
Adamson frowned at this, but said nothing and remained limp as Madeleine removed his jacket. When she started to undo his waistcoat buttons he seemed to get the message and began pulling absently at his shirt.
‘What have you been drinking?’
‘Brandy. And wine, when the brandy was gone.’
‘You ought to have more sense.’
‘I don’t usually have more than a glass or two...normally—but tonight...’
He sighed, but managed to wrestle his way out of his shirt unaided. Madeleine had come across a nightshirt laid out on the bed and gathered it up to go over his head.
She left him struggling out of his breeches while she poured him some water.
When she sensed his struggles with the nightshirt were at an end, she turned back to face him.
‘Here—drink this.’
‘You shouldn’t be anywhere near here, mademoiselle.’ He took a sip of water before placing the glass on his bedside table. ‘Why don’t you take yourself, and Mother and Higgins and Betsy, off back to England and leave me to fade away here in peace?’
Madeleine retreated a little at the blackness of his tone. ‘Oh...’
‘Exactly, mademoiselle. I don’t want to go home. That is the top and the bottom of it. It’s total misery, and I can’t bear it any more... I don’t want to go home, I can’t do the work, I don’t ever know what to do and I can’t stand it any more—’
‘Oh, do hush up!’
He was in danger of losing what little self-control he had left. Madeleine sat down beside him on the bed and pulled his hands away from his despairing face.
‘Stop it!’ she hissed crossly. ‘I’ve never seen such a ridiculous display in all my life. There are people out there on the streets who would give anything to live in this sort of “misery”. Good clothes, food and to waste, beautiful, clean houses—’
‘At least they’re free to do what they want!’ His sudden outburst surprised Madeleine into silence. ‘What have I got? Nothing! No career—no chance to be of any use to anyone—just a parcel of land and an acreage of responsibility! And it’s all Michael’s fault!’
Mists were beginning to clear from Madeleine’s mind.
‘Your brother Michael has gone off, leaving you in charge of everything at home...’ she worked out slowly. Adamson nodded, staring into the shadows with a look of bitter amusement.
‘He was the farmer, set to inherit. Why did he have to go? He would have been happy working the estate—as happy as I was in medical school. Instead he stormed off and everything’s been left to me. I’m the one left robbing Peter to pay Paul so that the creditors can be kept at bay... I’m the one that has to get up before dawn and is never in bed before midnight. It’s all fallen to me. All day, each and every day...it’s never-ending. I’m always so tired—’
Madeleine had sat beside him in silence, but at that she slipped her arm about him.
‘I don’t think doctors sit about doing nothing, sir.’
‘That’s different,’ he said roughly. ‘That’s a vocation. Helping people... It’s what I’ve always wanted to do...’
‘Well, you aren’t helping your poor mother
At the top Madeleine cast about while Adamson swayed gently beside her.
‘Which way?’
He pointed unsteadily at a door which was a comforting distance from Mistress Constance’s room. Even Madeleine realised it would not be quite the done thing for a lady’s companion to be discovered in this sort of situation.
After they had battled to the room and got safely inside, Madeleine sat Adamson down on the bed. After checking that the house was still sleeping, she closed the door. Going back to him, she knelt down and started to remove his shoes and stockings.
‘What—what are you doing?’
‘I’ve told you. I’m putting you to bed.’
‘That’s a job for H-Higgins...’
‘You can’t disturb him in the middle of the night just because you’re too moody to go to bed at a decent time.’
Adamson frowned at this, but said nothing and remained limp as Madeleine removed his jacket. When she started to undo his waistcoat buttons he seemed to get the message and began pulling absently at his shirt.
‘What have you been drinking?’
‘Brandy. And wine, when the brandy was gone.’
‘You ought to have more sense.’
‘I don’t usually have more than a glass or two...normally—but tonight...’
He sighed, but managed to wrestle his way out of his shirt unaided. Madeleine had come across a nightshirt laid out on the bed and gathered it up to go over his head.
She left him struggling out of his breeches while she poured him some water.
When she sensed his struggles with the nightshirt were at an end, she turned back to face him.
‘Here—drink this.’
‘You shouldn’t be anywhere near here, mademoiselle.’ He took a sip of water before placing the glass on his bedside table. ‘Why don’t you take yourself, and Mother and Higgins and Betsy, off back to England and leave me to fade away here in peace?’
Madeleine retreated a little at the blackness of his tone. ‘Oh...’
‘Exactly, mademoiselle. I don’t want to go home. That is the top and the bottom of it. It’s total misery, and I can’t bear it any more... I don’t want to go home, I can’t do the work, I don’t ever know what to do and I can’t stand it any more—’
‘Oh, do hush up!’
He was in danger of losing what little self-control he had left. Madeleine sat down beside him on the bed and pulled his hands away from his despairing face.
‘Stop it!’ she hissed crossly. ‘I’ve never seen such a ridiculous display in all my life. There are people out there on the streets who would give anything to live in this sort of “misery”. Good clothes, food and to waste, beautiful, clean houses—’
‘At least they’re free to do what they want!’ His sudden outburst surprised Madeleine into silence. ‘What have I got? Nothing! No career—no chance to be of any use to anyone—just a parcel of land and an acreage of responsibility! And it’s all Michael’s fault!’
Mists were beginning to clear from Madeleine’s mind.
‘Your brother Michael has gone off, leaving you in charge of everything at home...’ she worked out slowly. Adamson nodded, staring into the shadows with a look of bitter amusement.
‘He was the farmer, set to inherit. Why did he have to go? He would have been happy working the estate—as happy as I was in medical school. Instead he stormed off and everything’s been left to me. I’m the one left robbing Peter to pay Paul so that the creditors can be kept at bay... I’m the one that has to get up before dawn and is never in bed before midnight. It’s all fallen to me. All day, each and every day...it’s never-ending. I’m always so tired—’
Madeleine had sat beside him in silence, but at that she slipped her arm about him.
‘I don’t think doctors sit about doing nothing, sir.’
‘That’s different,’ he said roughly. ‘That’s a vocation. Helping people... It’s what I’ve always wanted to do...’
‘Well, you aren’t helping your poor mother
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