by Laura Beers
A Dangerous Pursuit
Regency Spies & Secrets #1
Laura Beers
© Copyright 2021 by Laura Beers
Text by Laura Beers
Cover by Dar Albert
Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.
P.O. Box 7968
La Verne CA 91750
[email protected]
Produced in the United States of America
First Edition March 2021
Kindle Edition
Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.
All Rights Reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
License Notes:
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Dearest Reader;
Thank you for your support of a small press. At Dragonblade Publishing, we strive to bring you the highest quality Historical Romance from the some of the best authors in the business. Without your support, there is no ‘us’, so we sincerely hope you adore these stories and find some new favorite authors along the way.
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Additional Dragonblade books by Author Laura Beers
The Regency Spies & Secrets Series
A Dangerous Pursuit (Book 1)
A Dangerous Game (Book 2)
A Dangerous Lord (Book 3)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Publisher’s Note
Additional Dragonblade books by Author Laura Beers
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Excerpt from A Dangerous Game
About the Author
Chapter One
England, 1814
Miss Madalene Dowding leaned lower in the saddle as she urged her horse forward, coaxing a little more speed out of the white gelding. She knew she was racing at a breakneck pace, but that did little to deter her. She did not fear falling off her horse. Frankly, she feared very little since her mother’s death.
Her mother.
It had been six months since her mother had died, leaving her utterly devastated. The familiar feeling of grief washed over her, and she fought hard to push down the bitterness that threatened to rise up inside of her. Never had she felt so alone, despite constantly being surrounded by people. She struggled to find the contentment that she once knew, but it was proving to be a much more difficult task than she had ever imagined.
The sun sat high on the horizon, filling the valley with light. She inhaled the slight crispness of the air as she reined in her horse at the top of a hill. How she preferred living at her country home, far away from Town!
Her mother had always enjoyed the sights and sounds of London, and they would spend every Season there without fail. That was, until her mother got sick and the doctor suggested she remove herself to the country. For the next four months, Madalene had watched her mother wither away, and there had been nothing she could do to stop it.
A tear snuck out of her eye and slowly rolled down her cheek.
Why am I even thinking about this, she chided herself. Reaching up, she wiped the tear away with her riding glove. Her mother was gone. She had to accept that and move on. So why did the ache in her heart never cease to go away?
Madalene tightened the hold on the reins as her eyes scanned her land. At times, she could scarcely believe that she had become one of England’s largest landowners upon her mother’s death. It was a wonderful feeling to know that she could care for herself and for those she was responsible for.
Turning her horse back towards the manor, she kicked the gelding into a run and didn’t stop until she reached the round gravel courtyard. She dismounted in a swift motion and extended her reins towards the lead groom.
“How was your ride?” the tall groom asked.
“It was wonderful, James.”
James placed his hand on the gelding’s neck and asked, “Will you be riding again this evening?”
“Most likely,” she replied.
He tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Then I’d better go brush down your horse and give him something to eat.”
“Thank you.”
Madalene started walking towards the main door when it was opened by her short, black-haired butler. Graham had been with the family for as long as she could remember, and he had the most pleasant disposition about him.
“Good morning, Miss,” Graham said, stepping to the side to grant her entry. “I take it by the smile on your face that your ride went well.”
“It did,” Madalene replied as she started to remove her gloves. “Nothing pleases me more than riding in the morning hours.”
Graham gave her a knowing smile. “I daresay that riding at any hour gives you great pleasure.”
“That it does.”
With a side glance at the drawing room, Graham grew serious and lowered his voice. “Mrs. Ridley and her son, Mr. Ridley, have requested to speak to you and are waiting for you in the drawing room.”
Madalene stifled the groan that had formed on her lips. “Did they state why?”
Her butler gave her an apologetic look. “Mrs. Ridley did not, and I did not question her any further,” he replied. “I did, however, inform her that you were on a ride, but that seemed to do little to deter her.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Mrs. Ridley is much too determined for that,” Madalene said as she extended her gloves towards Graham. “Will you inform Mrs. Foster that I require her presence in the drawing room?”
“Yes, Miss,” Graham responded before he stepped back.
Madalene turned reluctantly towards the drawing room door. How she tired of these house calls. She had grown to dread them. Scheming mothers would parade their sons in front of her in hopes that she would fall for their flowery words. It grew rather tiresome.
She walked over to the door and peered in. Mr. Ridley was standing next to the window, looking o
ut towards her well-maintained gardens, as his mother sat rigidly on the sofa. She had to admit that he wasn’t entirely unfortunate to look upon with his sharp features and straight nose, but he had one flaw that she could not overlook. His mother. Mrs. Ridley was intolerable. She was a gossiping busybody and had deemed most people of the village beneath her.
Smoothing down her dark blue riding habit, Madalene stepped into the room and greeted her guests.
“Good morning, Mrs. Ridley.” She tipped her head at the woman’s son. “Mr. Ridley.”
He turned from the window and faced her. His eyes perused the length of her, and she could see the approval in them. “You are looking especially lovely this morning, Miss Dowding.”
“Thank you,” Madalene replied graciously.
Mrs. Ridley spoke up from the sofa, her words sounding less than genuine. “I must agree with my son, Miss Dowding. You are looking quite beautiful this morning.”
Madalene smiled politely at her. “My morning ride must have agreed with me, then.”
“Oh, do you like to ride?” Mrs. Ridley asked innocently.
“I do.”
“My son also loves to ride,” Mrs. Ridley said, glancing over at him. “Don’t you, Roger?”
“I do.” Mr. Ridley cleared his throat. “Very much.”
“Is that so?” Madalene asked, attempting to feign interest.
“It is,” Mr. Ridley confirmed. “I also like dancing.”
“Dancing is a most wonderful pastime.” Madalene wasn’t entirely pleased at the direction this conversation had taken.
Mr. Ridley took a step closer to her, and his face was now red with a thin line of perspiration on his upper lip. “I was hoping you would save me a dance at Mrs. Brooks’ ball tomorrow evening.”
Madalene clasped her hands in front of her, delaying her response. She didn’t want to encourage the poor man, but she didn’t want to be rude either. “I’m afraid I haven’t decided if I will be in attendance yet,” she admitted honestly.
Mrs. Ridley gasped. “But you must!”
Fortunately, before she could respond, her companion, Mrs. Foster, walked into the room. “I am sorry that I am late,” she said with a smile on her lips.
Madalene stepped closer to her silver-haired companion. “Thank you for joining us, Mrs. Foster.”
“It is my pleasure,” Mrs. Foster replied before turning her attention towards Mrs. Ridley. “How are you doing this fine morning?”
“I am well,” Mrs. Ridley replied with a forced smile.
“I am happy to hear that,” Mrs. Foster said.
Mrs. Ridley turned her attention towards Madalene. “I believe my son is still waiting for your response.”
Madalene attempted to keep her face expressionless as she replied, “I would be happy to save Mr. Ridley a dance, if I attend the ball.”
Mrs. Ridley clapped her hands together. “You two will make such a dashing couple on the dance floor.”
“Thank you, Miss Dowding,” Mr. Ridley remarked as he wiped the sweat off his upper lip. “You have made me immensely happy.”
A silence descended over the room, and Madalene watched as Mrs. Ridley gave her son a pointed look. Mr. Ridley reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out a small piece of paper. He unfolded it and studied it for a moment.
“Do you like to draw, Miss Dowding?” he finally asked.
Madalene glanced curiously at the piece of paper in his hand. “I do, very much.”
“It would appear that we have something else in common, Miss Dowding,” Mr. Ridley said as he slipped the paper back into his waistcoat pocket.
Mrs. Ridley smiled approvingly at her son. “Is there anything else you wanted to ask Miss Dowding?”
Mr. Ridley gave his mother a blank stare. “I don’t believe so.”
“Nothing at all?” Mrs. Ridley pressed.
With a frown on his brow, Mr. Ridley removed the piece of paper from his waistcoat pocket and reviewed it again. He looked up and asked in a hesitant voice, “Would you be interested in going on a carriage ride with me tomorrow?” It was evident by his expression that he was waiting for her to reject him.
Madalene felt compassion towards him, and she didn’t have the heart to turn him down.
“A carriage ride sounds like a splendid idea,” she responded.
Relief washed over Mr. Ridley’s features. “I shall come by tomorrow afternoon to retrieve you.”
Abruptly, Mrs. Ridley rose from her seat. “If you will excuse us, we will be on our way,” she declared. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.”
“Of course, it was my pleasure,” Madalene replied.
After Mrs. Ridley and her son left the drawing room, Mrs. Foster shook her head. “That poor man was so nervous around you that he was reading notes from a piece of paper.”
“You noticed that, as well?”
“I did,” Mrs. Foster said. “I found it rather sweet.”
Madalene walked over to the window and watched as Mrs. Ridley and Mr. Ridley stepped into their carriage. “Mr. Ridley is a nice enough man, but I have no interest in matrimony at this time.”
Her companion came to stand next to her. “I’m relieved to hear that, because you are still much too young to marry.”
“I daresay that is not true,” Madalene replied. “I am twenty-one.”
Mrs. Foster grinned. “That is quite young, my dear,” she commented. “Marriage is a lifelong commitment, and the decision should not be taken lightly.”
“What if I decide not to marry?”
With a half-shrug, Mrs. Foster remarked, “Then that is your decision. But I would hope that is not the case.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because falling in love is one of the greatest feelings in the world, and it will consume you, body and soul.”
Madalene gave her companion an amused look. “I see that you have been reading Pride and Prejudice again.”
“I have not,” Mrs. Foster replied. “I just remember what it felt like the first time I saw my husband from across the room. Our eyes met, and I knew that my life had changed forever.”
“Not everyone finds a love match.”
Mrs. Foster bobbed her head. “That doesn’t mean you should ever stop looking.”
“I tire of men and their flowery words,” Madalene stated. “I have yet to find a gentleman who will speak his mind freely around me.”
“Give it time,” Mrs. Foster encouraged.
Madalene smiled. “That could be a problem, because one of my greatest flaws is that I lack patience.”
“That you do,” Mrs. Foster agreed. “You have been that way since you were a little child.”
“My mother constantly chided me for making rash decisions, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.”
Mrs. Foster offered her a sad smile, her voice full of compassion. “Your mother was a good woman.”
“That she was,” Madalene agreed. “Speaking of which, we need to travel to London to tour the orphanage. We haven’t been back since it was first opened.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, especially since I wouldn’t mind doing a little shopping while we are in Town.”
“I am not surprised in the least.”
Mrs. Foster laughed. “You could always join me on my shopping trips.”
“I would rather not.”
“And why is that?”
“Because searching through fabrics does not interest me,” Madalene replied honestly. “I would much rather be reading a book.”
“You shouldn’t say such things,” Mrs. Foster remarked, lowering her voice. “You could be labeled as a bluestocking.”
“So be it.”
Mrs. Foster shook her head good-naturedly. “It is a good thing that you are beautiful and rich. You get to write your own rules.”
“Isn’t that grand?” Madalene asked as she started walking towards the door. “If you need me, I am going to change for breakfast.”
“I find it odd that Mrs. Ridley called on you so early this morning.”
Madalene stopped at the door. “I don’t,” she replied, glancing back at her companion. “I have come to always expect the unexpected from that woman.”
“Do you wonder what else Mr. Ridley wrote on that piece of paper?” Mrs. Foster joked.
“I do not,” Madalene replied.
As Madalene stepped out from the drawing room, she headed towards the grand staircase that dominated one side of the entry hall. Her thoughts kept returning to Mr. Ridley. She would need to be mindful not to encourage the man. The last thing on her mind was marriage.
Madalene glanced out the window of the coach in the unfashionable part of Town and watched as the street vendors hawked their goods on the crowded pavement.
Mrs. Foster removed a fan from the reticule around her left wrist and started fanning her face. “Are we almost there?”
“We are.”
“Thank heavens,” Mrs. Foster said, lowering her fan to her lap. “After spending nearly all of yesterday traveling to Town, I’m afraid I am growing rather tired of seeing the interior of this coach.”
Madalene gave her an understanding smile. “I do appreciate you coming with me.”
Mrs. Foster returned her smile and replied, “That is what a dutiful companion does, especially when you desire to visit an unsavory part of Town.”
“Well, I am grateful that you are my companion.”
“As am I, my dear,” Mrs. Foster said, her voice sounding sincere. “There is no place I would rather be.”
Madalene smoothed down her simple cotton gown. “I am most relieved that my mother had the foresight to convince you to stay on as my companion before she died.”
“Your mother was always looking out for you.”
“That she was,” Madalene agreed in a soft voice.
“I just hope that I have helped you as much as you have helped me,” Mrs. Foster remarked.
“Oh, you most assuredly have,” Madalene replied. “I don’t know how I would have endured these past few months without you by my side.”
