by Laura Beers
The woman considered her for a moment before saying, “Follow me.” Then, she spun on her heel and started circumventing the tables.
Following close behind, Madalene gripped the strings to her reticule tighter. She hoped that the man in charge would be somewhat pleasant.
At the end of the hall, there was a closed door that the woman approached and banged on. It opened and a rough-looking man stared back at her.
“This woman would like to speak to Eddy,” the woman announced, gesturing back at her.
The man turned his beady eyes towards her, and Madalene resisted the urge to shrink back. “Come on in,” he said, opening the door wide.
The woman turned back to face her and mouthed, “Good luck.”
Madalene walked hesitantly into the small room and was startled when the door slammed behind her.
Another man sat at a large, imposing desk placed next to a window. He had a big head, a crooked nose, and thinning black hair combed over to the side. He smiled at her, but it appeared forced.
“I’m Eddy,” he said. “You wished to see me.”
Madalene nodded. “I did,” she replied, hoping her voice sounded more confident than she felt. “I would like to conduct some business with you.”
“Interesting. And what kind of business would you like to do with me?”
Taking a step closer to the desk, Madalene shared, “My friend, Edith Hardy, has gone missing, and I understand that her father owed you some money.”
“I am sad to hear about Miss Hardy going missing, but you are correct that Mr. Hardy did owe me some money,” Eddy revealed. “Quite a lot, actually.”
“If I pay the money back, would you let Miss Hardy go free?”
Eddy leaned back in his seat, eyeing her curiously. “What makes you think I had something to do with Miss Hardy’s disappearance?”
“Mrs. Hardy mentioned the possibility.”
With a loud laugh, Eddy said, “You must not believe everything you hear, darling.”
Madalene tensed at his condescending tone, but it was not the time to back down. “Do we have a deal or not?” she boldly asked.
The humor was stripped from Eddy’s face. “We do not, because I had nothing to do with Miss Hardy’s disappearance. After all, why would I hurt the lady who has been gracious enough to pay me back these past few months?”
When she didn’t say anything, Eddy continued. “But I do intend to make Mrs. Hardy pay for making such slanderous accusations against me, especially since she isn’t in a position to pay me back for her worthless husband’s debts.”
“Please don’t do that,” Madalene pleaded. “Allow me to pay off her debts.”
Eddy made a clucking noise with his tongue. “It is rather a large sum,” he stated. “Thirty pounds, to be precise.”
“I can pay it.” Madalene held up her reticule. “I have the amount right here.”
Eddy blinked. “You are carrying thirty pounds around in your reticule?”
“Miss Hardy had previously informed me of the amount she owed for her father’s debts, and I wanted to resolve this matter quickly,” Madalene explained.
Stepping up to the desk, Madalene reached her hand into the reticule and started pulling out handfuls of money, placing them in front of Eddy.
Once she had removed the last pound, Madalene stepped back. “Mrs. Hardy’s debt has been paid, and you will leave her alone,” she demanded.
Eddy’s eyes never left the money as he replied, “Yes, of course. I am relieved that I don’t have to see that insipid widow ever again.”
“By chance, do you have any idea who might have abducted Miss Hardy?” Madalene asked hopefully.
Meeting her gaze, Eddy said, “Women go missing around here all the time. I would just be grateful that it wasn’t you who was abducted.”
“But Miss Hardy is my friend.”
Eddy gave her a look that could be construed as compassion. “My advice is to get a new friend,” he stated. “Wherever Miss Hardy is, she is long gone.”
“I refuse to give up looking for her.”
Eddy shook his head. “It has been my experience that people don’t like when other people start asking too many questions,” he advised. “You don’t want to anger the wrong people.”
Before she could reply, Eddy snapped his fingers and the other man jumped up from his chair. He grabbed her arm, opened the door, and shoved her out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Madalene turned back and stared at the door in astonishment. Never before had she been treated in such a horrendous fashion. But what did I expect, she thought. She wasn’t exactly dealing with gentlemen here.
She had failed to find Edith, but at least she had paid off her father’s gambling debts. Now Mrs. Hardy wouldn’t live in such fear of her creditors.
Turning around, Madalene started walking between the tables as she headed back towards the main door. She had just passed a crowded table when a man’s hand reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Let me go,” Madalene cried out as she yanked back.
The man didn’t relinquish his hold as he turned in his seat to face her. To her surprise, she was staring into the eyes of Lord Hawthorne. And by the furious glint in his eyes, he didn’t look pleased to see her either.
He rose abruptly from his chair and led her towards the corner of the room. Once they arrived, he remained close and asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“It is perfectly acceptable for a gentleman to be at a gambling hall,” he responded curtly. “Whereas, being seen at one could ruin a young lady’s reputation.”
“I am aware of that fact.”
Lord Hawthorne’s eyes wandered over her face. “So, I must beg the question, what are you truly doing here?”
“Gambling,” she lied.
“Yet I didn’t see you place any bets.”
Arching an eyebrow, she asked, “You were watching me?”
“I was,” he replied, unabashed, “and I can’t seem to figure out the game that you are playing.”
“As I have told you before, I am playing no game.”
“Then why are you here, Miss Dowding?” he asked again. “And I want the truth this time.”
Madalene jerked her arm back, successful in freeing it this time. “If you must know, my friend was abducted, and I was trying to buy her release.”
Lord Hawthorne’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were attempting to gauge her sincerity. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
“My friend went missing a few days ago, and her mother thought Eddy might have something to do with it since they owed him money.”
With a baffled look on his face, he asked, “Who is Eddy?”
Madalene tried to distance herself from Lord Hawthorne by taking a step back, but she was stopped by the wall behind her. “He is the man in charge of the gambling hall.”
“I see, and you just waltzed right into his office to accuse him of abducting your friend.”
Madalene winced slightly at the harshness of his words. “I did, but I ended up paying off her debts instead.”
“Why did your friend owe Eddy money?”
Clasping her hands in front of her, Madalene explained, “Edith’s father gambled all their money away and then died in debtor’s prison. Eddy refused to let the debt die and insisted that Edith’s mother pay back the money.”
“Was she able to?”
“Heavens, no,” Madalene replied with a shake of her head, “but Edith is working as the headmistress at my orphanage and has been paying Eddy back a bit at a time.”
“Pray tell, then what purpose would he have to abduct her?”
Madalene shrugged. “Mrs. Hardy thought it was a possibility, and I thought I should at least attempt to find Edith.”
“You are either incredibly brave or stupid, Miss Dowding,” Lord Hawthorne remarked. “And, frankly, I haven’t decided which one you are yet.”
“Do you intend to keep insulting me, or am I free to go?” Madalene asked dryly.
“You can’t keep going on the way you have been. You must think of your reputation.”
Madalene held his gaze in silent challenge for a long moment before saying, “I would rather risk my reputation than lose my friend entirely.”
Lord Hawthorne muttered something incoherent under his breath as he slowly shook his head. “I might regret saying this, but I am going to help you.”
“In what way?”
“I have a certain set of skills that will enable me to find your friend much more efficiently than you,” Lord Hawthorne answered.
“What kind of skills?”
“I am not at liberty to say.”
“And if I refuse your help?”
A cocky grin came to Lord Hawthorne’s lips. “That would be a rather foolish thing to do.”
Madalene considered the infuriating lord for a moment. She wanted to refuse his help, and wipe that smug smile off his face, but she was out of options. After all, she was no closer to finding Edith than she had been before. She needed help, but why did it have to come from him?
Forcing a smile to her lips, Madalene said, “I will accept your help.”
“Good.”
“But I have a condition.”
His grin dimmed. “Which is?”
She jutted out her chin. “I want to be involved in the investigation.”
“No.”
“Whyever not?”
Lord Hawthorne leaned closer, and she could feel the heat of his breath mingling with hers. “I work alone,” he stated firmly with a hint of coldness she’d not heard before.
“Will you at least keep me abreast of the investigation?”
“I would be willing to do that, assuming you do not become a nuisance.”
“Thank you.” Madalene worked hard to pretend that his nearness wasn’t affecting her. She had never been this close to a man before, and she found it rather unnerving.
To her great relief, Lord Hawthorne stepped back and offered his arm to her. “Allow me to escort you to your coach,” he said. “I assume it is out front.”
“It is,” she replied as she placed her hand on his sleeve.
As Lord Hawthorne led her towards the doors, he remarked, “I should note that the longer your friend is missing, the less likely it is that we will be able to find her.”
“I assumed as much.”
“And there is a good chance that she is already dead.”
Madalene gasped. “You don’t truly believe that, do you?”
Keeping his gaze straight ahead, he replied, “I do.”
“I truly hope that isn’t the case.”
Lord Hawthorne opened the door and stepped to the side to allow her to go first. “I will come by tomorrow to discuss the particulars.”
“I shall be looking forward to it.”
They exited the main door, and Lord Hawthorne walked her to the coach. He opened the door and put his hand out for her.
Madalene accepted his assistance and stepped inside. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Lord Hawthorne didn’t close the door right away. Instead, he said, “I don’t want you to get your hopes up. No good will come from that.”
“I understand, but I still have hope that Edith will be returned unharmed.”
“Do you not understand what I am saying to you?”
Madalene smiled ruefully. “I do, but I choose to ignore half of what you say.”
Lord Hawthorne didn’t smile as she had intended, but rather his eyes sparked with annoyance. “Go home, Miss Dowding,” he ordered before closing the coach door.
She found herself watching Lord Hawthorne re-enter the building as the coach pulled away from the pavement. What a perplexing man, she thought. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d accepted his help, but there was something about him that made her feel safe. And it was that something that compelled her to trust him.
Chapter Six
Baldwin rubbed his tired eyes as he rode in his coach to the House of Lords. He had spent nearly the entire night before at the Queen’s Gambling Hall, and he was exhausted. He had identified a few schoolboys that were quite vocal about their radical beliefs, but they were just deep into their cups. He doubted any of them had any real conviction.
Bringing him back to no leads. Sadly, he was no closer to identifying the radical group than he had been when he first started looking.
He intended to go back to Floyd’s Coffeehouse tonight and watch for the group of men the serving woman had informed him about. Perhaps that would yield a clue.
Baldwin clenched his fists as his thoughts turned to Miss Dowding. Why had he agreed to help her find her friend? Don’t I already have enough to worry about at the moment, he thought. But when she had revealed her plight, he found his heart softening towards her, which was so unlike him. Emotions were burdens that needed to be suppressed at all costs. They could get a man killed.
The coach came to a stop in front of Westminster. He exited the coach and entered the building by way of two large wooden doors. As he stepped into the White Hall, he could feel everyone’s eyes on him, but he didn’t let it affect him.
Baldwin walked over to where the Tories were gathered and sat down in the back row.
His friend, Lord Brinton, approached him with an obnoxious smile on his face. “As I live and breathe, is that Lord Hawthorne, gracing us with his presence from on high?” he greeted.
“What is it that you want?”
Lord Brinton sat down on the seat next to him. “I am relieved that I finally have a friend in Parliament,” he said.
Baldwin gave him a skeptical look. “You didn’t have one before?”
“No,” Lord Brinton replied. “For some reason, people find me too charming.”
With a shake of his head, Baldwin remarked in an amused tone, “I see that you have not changed, Percy.”
Percy turned in his seat to face him, lowering his voice. “May I ask where you have been these past three years?”
“Here and there,” Baldwin replied. “But mostly I spent my time at our Scottish estate.”
“I see,” Percy said. “The last time I saw you was at your father’s funeral.”
“I believe it was.”
Shifting in his seat, Percy faced the center of the room. “You are in luck, because Lord Desmond will have the floor today and will be arguing for his new bill.”
“How is it being received?”
“Very well,” Percy replied, “at least by the Whigs.”
“Not the Tories?”
Percy shrugged. “He has some votes amongst us, but not many.”
“Do you think it will pass?”
“Who can say?” Percy replied. “But there is always a chance.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because Lord Desmond is rallying the people behind it,” Percy explained.
“Are you for the bill?”
Percy shook his head. “Heavens, no,” he said. “I believe we are in need of more workhouses, but I don’t believe the Home Office should oversee them. It is the parishes’ job to administer to the needs of the poor.”
Baldwin frowned as he saw the thickset Lord Desmond walk into the room with a satchel over his right shoulder and take a seat in the front row on the opposite side of the room. His long, bushy sideburns drew attention to the sagging skin under his neck.
“I hate Whigs,” Baldwin muttered.
“What do you hate about them in particular?” Percy asked. “Could it be that they believe the power belongs to the voice of the people or that they want to reform the monarchy?”
“Precisely, they are a bunch of radical fools,” Baldwin responded.
“I would agree with you. England could not survive without a monarchy.”
“I should say not,” Baldwin agreed. “If I wanted to live in anarchy, then I would move to the American colonies.”
Percy chuckled. “That
is terrible of you to say.”
“America isn’t satisfied with what it has, hence the reason we are currently engaged in a skirmish with them.”
“That is because they foolishly thought we would let them invade Canada without a fight.”
The room grew quiet as the Lord Chancellor said a few words of introduction. Then, he turned the floor over to Lord Desmond.
Lord Desmond rose from his seat and walked over to a table positioned in the center of the room. The silence was deafening as he picked up a stack of papers and shuffled them. He placed them back down and turned to address the side of the room where the Tories were sitting.
“As we sit in our grand townhouses, men, women, and children are dying on the streets,” Lord Desmond stated, his voice echoing off the dome-shaped roof. “Honest, hardworking men can’t find work, or they are turned away because of a war injury. These men want to feed their families, to make an honest wage, but they can’t. No one will let them.”
Lord Desmond started pacing the center of the room. “You may have heard, but there is a food shortage, as well. The war with France has taken a toll on Society, but who is going to speak for the poor, the needy, the half-starved?”
“Hear, hear,” a man shouted.
Turning towards the Whigs, Lord Desmond continued. “We cannot stand by and let our own people perish in the streets. We must help them!” He placed his hands on the lapels of his blue jacket. “Our job is to speak for the people.”
“Oh, botheration,” Percy muttered under his breath.
“We need more workhouses in the rookeries,” Lord Desmond declared. “We need to make them accessible to the poor. The parishes cannot handle the influx of the poor and the needy. It is time for us to make a stand and help them.”
Lord Frampton jumped up from his seat near Baldwin and declared, “No one is disputing that we need more workhouses, but we take issue with how you intend to pay for it.”
“I am glad you brought that up.” Lord Desmond walked over to the table and grabbed the stack of papers. “The Home Office has one of the largest budgets of any of the government departments. One of its purposes is to safeguard the rights and liberties of individuals. I believe that the poor fall under this category. With nearly nineteen hundred workhouses in England alone, how are we ensuring the poor are being treated with civility?
