by Laura Beers
“No, I don’t,” Baldwin declared bluntly.
“That is a shame,” his mother said as she walked towards the door. “But, fortunately, Jane and I will be happy to plan the whole thing since we know how busy you are.”
“Mother…” he growled.
She stopped in the doorway. “You won’t have to worry about a thing, my dear. Just leave all the details to us.”
“I would prefer it if you called it off.”
His mother gasped. “But the invitations have already gone out. What would people think of us?” she asked, bringing her hand to her chest.
“Frankly, I don’t care.”
“But I do,” his mother stated. “Besides, Jane isn’t married yet, and we have her reputation to think of.”
Baldwin frowned, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. He didn’t have the heart to disappoint his mother in this, not after everything he had put her through these past few years.
“I understand, Mother.”
She smiled broadly. “You are a good son,” she said before departing from the room.
Oliver eyed the empty doorway. “Why is it that I feel we just got duped?”
“Because we did, Brother,” Baldwin said. “We did.”
“So this man just escorted you to your coach, without so much as a by-your-leave?” her lady’s maid asked in disbelief as she brushed Madalene’s long brown tresses.
Madalene nodded. “The man grabbed my arm, led me outside, and then proceeded to insult me.”
Teresa shook her head. “That was poorly done by him, but he did save you from an unsavory situation.”
“I should think not,” Madalene replied. “I had the situation in hand.”
“You did?”
Madalene reached for a bottle of lotion on the dressing table. “Those three men in the coffeehouse were nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“And why do you say that?”
“Because they were just trying to impress me,” Madalene said. “I don’t believe they intended to do me harm.”
“I think you are too trusting, Miss.”
Madalene started rubbing the lotion on her arms. “Either way, that man at the coffeehouse was just awful, and I hope never to see him again.”
“I should say so,” Teresa responded as she began to pull Madalene’s hair into a coiffure. “Although, I must wonder if he was handsome.”
“Why should that matter?”
Teresa shrugged. “I’m just trying to understand the entire situation.”
Madalene pressed her lips together before admitting, “If you must know, he wasn’t terrible to look at.”
“Meaning?”
“Some might even consider him handsome with his chiseled jaw, sharp features, and broad shoulders.”
“But you don’t?”
Madalene gave her lady’s maid an exasperated look. “I’m afraid I don’t find men who insult me to be overly attractive.”
“Fair enough,” Teresa replied. “Will Mrs. Foster be accompanying you to visit Lady Jane this afternoon?”
“No, Mrs. Foster will be visiting with some of her own friends.”
“Do you think that is wise?”
Madalene lifted her brow. “Lady Jane lives two blocks over,” she explained. “I have no doubt that I can arrive at Hawthorne House unscathed.”
“If you say so,” Teresa said with a smile. “I can’t help but think that trouble often has a way of finding you.”
“I can assure you that it is through no fault of my own.”
“Of course not, Miss.” Teresa took a step back. “Are you pleased with your hair?”
Madalene turned to admire her hair in the mirror. It was piled high on top of her head and small ringlets framed her face. “It is lovely,” she acknowledged. “You truly outdid yourself.”
“Thank you,” Teresa responded. “Would you care to dress now?”
“I would.” Her lady’s maid walked over to the bed and picked up a white gown with a lovely pink sash. “I thought you might like to wear this gown to visit Lady Jane.”
“What a fine choice,” Madalene agreed as she walked closer to the bed.
A short time later, she exited her bedchamber and headed towards the entry hall. She had just stepped down onto the last step when Mrs. Foster swiftly crossed the tile.
“I just wanted to confirm that you don’t need me to accompany you to visit Lady Jane,” Mrs. Foster said, her breathing labored from her quick pace.
“That won’t be necessary,” Madalene assured her as she walked over to a table and picked up her white gloves. “Go enjoy some tea with your friends.”
Mrs. Foster smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I do worry about you.”
“There is no reason to worry about me. The coach will drop me off in front of Hawthorne House and will wait to deliver me back home.”
“Don’t forget to keep your distance from Lord Oliver,” Mrs. Foster warned. “You wouldn’t want to become associated with that man. He has the most horrid reputation as a gambler and rakehell.”
“Which I believe is grossly exaggerated amongst the ton.”
“Why is that, my dear?”
“Because the few times I have associated with Lord Oliver, he was extremely polite and courteous to me.”
Mrs. Foster huffed. “Do not be fooled by the affectations of men.”
“What a terrible thing to say.”
“It is the truth, and as your companion, it is my duty to keep you protected from those types of men.”
Madalene offered her a reassuring smile. “I will be fine,” she said. “No harm will come to me at Hawthorne House, I am sure of it.”
Graham stepped into the entry hall. “Your coach is waiting out front, Miss,” he announced, opening the door.
Madalene turned to Mrs. Foster. “Please do not fret about me.”
“Just promise me that you won’t go to any more coffeehouses.”
“I can promise that.”
Mrs. Foster grinned. “Off with you, then.”
Madalene exited her townhouse and stepped into the waiting coach. It wasn’t long before they arrived at the gate in front of Hawthorne House. After her driver spoke to a guard, they were admitted entrance into the courtyard.
As Madalene exited the coach, she took a moment to admire the enormous townhouse before approaching the main door, which was promptly opened.
The butler greeted her with a kind smile. “Good morning, Miss Dowding,” he said, stepping aside to allow her entry. “It is good to see you again.”
“Likewise, Pratt.”
Pratt closed the door. “Lady Jane has been expecting you,” he revealed. “I shall inform her that you have arrived.”
“Wonderful,” Madalene replied. “I shall wait for her here.”
Pratt tipped his head in acknowledgement before heading towards the stairs. Madalene turned and started admiring the paintings and tapestries that hung on the wall. She had always been fascinated with all the works of art that Hawthorne had amassed.
She was so enamored with the paintings that she failed to hear someone approach. In the next moment, she felt someone grab her arm and could feel the warmth of his breath on her ear as he asked, “What do you think you are doing here?”
Madalene turned her head and her heart dropped. It was that horrid man from the coffeehouse. Realizing that she needed to take control of the situation, she yanked back her arm and turned around to face him.
“I have every right to be here.”
His eyes narrowed. “Did you follow me here?”
“Why would I do that?” she asked in an exasperated voice.
“Coming here was a huge mistake for you.”
“And why is that?”
The man placed his hand on the wall behind her and leaned in, his words low. “How did you find me?”
“Trust me, I wasn’t looking for you,” she replied, attempting to appear unaffected by his nearness. There was a gleam in his eyes th
at she knew she should find terrifying, but instead she found herself intrigued.
“Who sent you?” he demanded.
She cocked her head. “Why would anyone send me to find you?”
“You may play coy—”
Speaking over him, she said, “I am not playing coy with you. Frankly, I want this conversation to be over with.”
“Not until you answer my questions.”
“Are you always this insufferable?”
A smirk came to his lips, but it held no humor. “You have no idea who you are dealing with.”
“That may be true, but I still find you to be irksome,” she said.
Slowly, methodically, his intense eyes roamed over her face. “Why are you here?” he asked. “Do you have a message for me?”
“I am not here for you nor would I ever have a message for you.”
A huff passed his lips. “I grow tired of this game.”
“I assure you that there is no game, and I grow tired of your insinuations,” Madalene challenged.
“Clearly, you are more clever than I have given you credit for.”
Madalene arched an eyebrow. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”
The man opened his mouth to respond when Madalene heard Lady Jane exclaim, “Baldwin! What do you think you are doing?”
Baldwin dropped his hand and stepped back. “This does not concern you, Jane.”
“It most certainly does,” Jane insisted, coming to stand next to her. “Madalene is my dear friend, and I will not have you treat her in such a horrendous fashion.”
“You befriended my sister?” Baldwin asked, his voice skeptical.
“Madalene and I went to boarding school together,” Jane explained. “I know I have spoken about her.”
“I don’t recall you ever mentioning a Madalene before,” Baldwin said, stepping back to create more distance between them.
Jane frowned at her brother. “I daresay that I must question if you ever listened to any of my stories.”
“I assure you that I listened.”
With a look that implied she didn’t believe him, Jane remarked, “I hadn’t realized that you two knew each other.”
“We don’t, at least not officially,” Madalene replied.
“Oh, then allow me to rectify that situation,” Jane stated, glancing between them. “Miss Dowding, allow me to introduce you to my brother, the Marquess of Hawthorne.”
Madalene dropped into a curtsy, knowing what was expected of her. “My lord,” she murmured respectfully.
Lord Hawthorne’s face was expressionless, but his eyes still held animosity towards her. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” His words sounded forced.
Jane placed a hand on her shoulder and asked, “As pleasant as this is, would you care to adjourn to the drawing room for some refreshment?”
Dropping Lord Hawthorne’s gaze, Madalene replied in a relieved tone, “I would love to.”
As she turned to follow Jane towards the drawing room, she couldn’t help but notice that Lord Hawthorne remained rooted in his spot, and she could feel his eyes boring into her back.
They stepped into the drawing room and Jane spun around to face her. “I am sorry about my brother,” she said quickly. “It would appear that he has forgotten how to have a polite conversation.”
“Your brother seems rather…” Madalene’s voice trailed off as she attempted to think of the right words.
“High-handed, pompous, a jackanapes…” Jane rattled off.
Madalene giggled and brought her hand up to cover her mouth. “Yes, all of those things.”
Jane sighed as she dropped down onto a settee. “My brother is not the same man that he was when he left three years ago.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Do you recall how I used to share stories about my brothers when we were younger?” Jane asked.
“I do,” Madalene replied. “I was always so envious about how close you were with your brothers.”
“Well, it has all changed now.”
“In what way?”
Jane gave her a sad smile. “Oliver is a rakehell now, and my other friends have distanced themselves from me in fear of associating with him.”
“How awful.”
“And Baldwin has been cantankerous since he arrived home a few days ago.”
Madalene came to sit down next to her friend. “Where was Lord Hawthorne before?”
Jane tossed her hands up in the air. “I have no idea!” she exclaimed. “He left right after our father died, with no word, and then he just showed back up with no explanation.”
“He won’t tell you where he has been?”
Jane shook her head. “But I have a few theories.”
“You do?”
A playful smile came to Jane’s lips as she glanced over at the door. “I think my brother was a pirate,” she whispered.
Madalene laughed. “A pirate?”
“It makes perfect sense,” Jane stated. “After all, his skin has darkened, and he barks orders like he has been bossing around a crew all day.”
“Your logic sounds flawless,” Madalene joked.
Jane’s smile grew. “How I have missed this.”
“As have I.”
“We haven’t seen each other since your mother died,” Jane said.
“But we have written each other.”
“That is true,” Jane replied. “Will you be staying for the rest of the Season?”
Madalene shook her head. “I intend to return home to my country estate in a few days, but first I must take care of something important.”
“Oh?” Jane asked. “You have piqued my interest now.”
A young blonde maid entered the room with a tray in her hands and placed it in front of them on a table.
“Would you care for me to pour, milady?” she asked Jane.
“No, thank you,” Jane replied. “I shall see to it.”
The maid dropped a curtsy and departed from the room.
As Jane poured the tea, Madalene walked over to the door and closed it. “I don’t want any prying ears to overhear our conversation.”
“You mean Baldwin?” Jane asked in an amused tone.
Madalene smiled. “Perhaps, but what I am about to reveal must be kept in the strictest confidence.”
“You have my word.”
Returning to her seat, Madalene shared, “Do you remember Edith Hardy from boarding school?”
Jane picked up a cup of tea and extended it towards her. “Of course, I remember Edith. You hired her as the headmistress of your mother’s orphanage.”
Madalene took a sip of her tea. “Edith has gone missing,” she revealed.
“Missing?”
“My solicitor informed me that Edith didn’t show up for work, and her room appeared to be ransacked.”
Jane gasped. “How awful!”
“The constable came to investigate, but I received word that he has no leads,” Madalene continued. “But he does believe that she has been abducted.”
“What terrible news,” Jane murmured.
Madalene lowered her cup and saucer to her lap. “I went to a coffeehouse where Edith’s mother and sister rent a room upstairs.”
“That was rather a foolhardy thing to do,” Jane said, giving her a pointed look.
“I had to,” Madalene defended. “Edith didn’t want anyone to know that her mother and sister reside at a coffeehouse.”
“Why didn’t they come live at the orphanage with her?”
“I offered to let them come work, but Edith is stubborn.”
Jane smiled. “No more than the rest of us.”
“Good point,” Madalene remarked. “Anyway, that is where I met your brother.”
“My brother was at a coffeehouse?”
“He was, and he escorted me to my coach.”
Jane eyed her curiously. “That doesn’t sound like my brother.”
“After he escorted me to my coach, he soundly insulted m
e and told me never to return to the coffeehouse.”
“Now, that, sounds exactly like my brother,” Jane said, laughing.
Madalene grew serious before admitting, “The last thing Mrs. Hardy told me was that Edith could have been abducted by the same men that her late husband owed money to.”
“Oh, no!” Jane exclaimed.
“I informed Mrs. Hardy that I would have no issue with paying a ransom, assuming there is one,” Madalene revealed. “Furthermore, Mrs. Hardy said she would seek out the constable to speak to him.”
“That is a good start, then.”
Madalene bit her lip. “Edith confided in me that she has been making payments to the Queen’s Gambling Hall on Bond Street.”
“For what purpose?”
“To settle her father’s debts,” Madalene explained. “Once he died, the debt was transferred to his wife, and they have been harassing her.”
“But if Edith was making payments to the gambling hall, why would they then have her abducted?”
“Perhaps she wasn’t paying them back fast enough?” Madalene mused. “Regardless, I am going to the Queen’s Gambling Hall to ask them.”
Jane’s eyes grew wide. “You can’t be in earnest.”
“I am.”
“That is entirely too dangerous,” Jane protested. “They could decide to abduct you, as well.”
Madalene placed her cup on the tray. “I have to do something, Jane,” she asserted. “The constable informed me that his workload was full and that he didn’t have time to complete a thorough investigation.”
“He said that?”
Madalene nodded. “My solicitor intends to hire a Bow Street Runner, but that could take days.”
“Do you truly intend to march into a gambling hall and ask the nearest person about Edith?” Jane questioned.
“I haven’t worked out all the kinks to my plan.”
“Do you even have a plan?”
Rising, Madalene walked over to the window and stared out into the courtyard. “Lots of women go to gambling halls,” she contended.
“Not the reputable ones.”
“That is not entirely true,” Madalene said, turning back to face her friend. “The Duchess of Winchester is a frequent visitor of the Queen’s Gambling Hall.”
“Yes, but she is also notoriously in debt,” Jane pointed out, “and a duchess.”
“But isn’t it worth the risk if it means that I could save Edith?”
