me.’
‘Perhaps you don’t want me to stay now, then.’
‘How could you suggest such a thing? If you knew how much I have been wanting you …’ He took the cup from her hand, sipped a mouthful of wine, then tipped back her head and kissed her so that the cool liquid trickled from his mouth into hers. His hand worked on the pins in her hair until the soft weight of it fell against her neck. There was no time to undress; instead they clawed at each other’s clothes until he had uncovered her and could press kisses into her stomach and thighs. She was moaning, reaching for him, clasping his face as he made love to her, his eyes tight shut, his body taut and urgent.
Afterwards he whispered again and again: ‘My English love. Mademoiselle Anglaise. My love.’
Nevertheless, he was in a hurry to help her dress and escort her home. Their parting at the corner of the Cherche-Midi was perfunctory; the faintest of bows, a dashing away and the raising of a hand. ‘ À mardi ,’ he called.
The next day, Philippa was well enough to breakfast in the hotel dining room.
‘So,’ said Morton, smiling at her fondly, ‘I shall arrange for us to leave tomorrow morning.’
Asa stared at him. ‘We can’t possibly. My sister …’
Morton clasped his wife’s hand. ‘Your sister says she is quite well enough, as long as we take the journey in easy stages. Besides, I am convinced that the dangers of staying far outweigh those of leaving.’
‘What dangers? We have been very comfortable here.’
‘Yesterday, those people we met, the professor’s son; what he said about the turning of the tide was the final straw. We have been here barely three months yet I fear that in even so short a time France has reached a tipping point. I’m all for reform, yes, but give the people too much headway and who knows where it may end. It is my duty to see you both home safely.’
‘But what Didi … Monsieur Paulin said was just talk. There’s no need to be alarmed. I’m sure that Philippa would love to stay a little longer, now that she is better. She’s hardly seen Paris.’
‘Really, Asa, to tell the truth, I should very much like to be back in England, and to become acquainted with my new home,’ said Philippa. ‘Besides, I am very anxious about Georgina. I know you will be disappointed to have our journey cut short but we are in dear John’s hands. If you would help with my packing, when you have finished your own, I’m sure I shall be quite rested and ready to depart by tomorrow.’
‘But what about the friends I’ve made? It would be rude not to say goodbye.’
‘A note will be sufficient.’ Philippa’s warning glance quelled further argument. Immediately the meal was over Morton went out to make preparations for the journey while Asa hurled clothes into her trunk. By this time tomorrow she would be miles from Paris. She and Didier had not arranged to meet again until Tuesday. He was spending today with his father and Beatrice. How could she get word to him?
In her distraction she failed to notice that a storm was gathering. A prolonged rumble of thunder took to her to the window, where she saw that the sky was ink black and people were scurrying, head down, intent on getting inside before the rain came. She must act at once, in case the weather became too severe for her to leave the hotel. She scribbled a note – I must see you. We leave in the morning. I cannot bear to think we may not even say goodbye … here is my address in England, in case the worst should happen … – put on her bonnet and cloak, and ran downstairs.
In the lobby she could scarcely make her way through the crowd of people who had pressed in from the street, seeking shelter. It was not rain falling, but hail. Lamps were lit as if it were midnight. Asa went to the door but was pushed back by more people stumbling in, shaking hailstones the size of conkers from their collars and hats. There was nothing to be seen of the opposite side of
Alaska Angelini
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