Page 97 of A Dangerous Pursuit (Regency Spies & Secrets 1)

“Would you like me to go with you?”

“No, I will be fine going alone.”

Mrs. Foster came to stand in front of her. “Do you think that is a good idea?”

“Why do you ask?”

With a pointed look, Mrs. Foster replied, “You haven’t seemed to be yourself since you came back from your extremely long carriage ride with Lord Hawthorne yesterday.”

“It was rather long, wasn’t it?”

Mrs. Foster didn’t appear fooled by her response. “You are keeping secrets from me again, my dear, and I don’t like it. Not one bit.”

“Lord Hawthorne and I had much to discuss, and it took longer than we anticipated,” she attempted.

“It appears that you and Lord Hawthorne are growing closer to one another.”

Madalene huffed. “Heavens, no. We are merely acquaintances.”

“I daresay that you are more than acquaintances if he is taking you on carriage rides through Hyde Park.”

“Trust me,” she started, “the more I learn about Lord Hawthorne, the more I realize that he is an insufferable man.”

Mrs. Foster clasped her hands in front of her. “Pray tell, why do you keep spending time with him if he is so ‘insufferable’?”

“If you recall, he offered to help find Edith.”

“I do, but he hasn’t been able to locate her yet.”

“That is true,” Madalene admitted, “but neither have the constable or the Bow Street Runner.”

Mrs. Foster stepped forward and tucked a wisp of Madalene’s brown hair behind her ear. “I just want you to be careful around men who use flowery words and offer promises they don’t intend to keep.”

“Lord Hawthorne isn’t like that.”

“Isn’t he?” her companion asked, the concern evident in her voice. “He keeps promising to find Edith, but what can a marquess truly do?”

Graham stepped back into the room. “The coach is waiting for you out front, Miss,” he announced, then approached the door and opened it.

Mrs. Foster placed a hand on her shoulder. “Just think about what I have said.”

“You know I always do,” Madalene replied before heading out the door.

After she was situated in the coach, Madalene rubbed her reddened wrists. They still continued to hurt, despite the lotion that she put on them when the powder had failed to help.

Her thoughts strayed back to earlier in the day when Lord Hawthorne had come to call. She recalled the hurt that was on his face when she flinched. She hadn’t thought he was going to hit her, but she had simply reacted. Frankly, she wasn’t entirely sure what Lord Hawthorne was capable of. All she knew was that he was so much more than he let on.

What concerned her the most was that he was associating with the miscreants of Society. Why was a marquess even associated with men who were abducting women? She was missing something, and it was driving her mad!

Which one is the real Lord Hawthorne, she wondered. The one who was starting to occupy her thoughts during the day, or the cold, unfeeling man from the pub who haunted her dreams at night? She wanted to believe the best of him, but she refused to be fooled.

The coach came to a stop in front of Hawthorne House, and the coach dipped as the footman stepped off his perch. He put the step down and then assisted Madalene out of the coach.

She approached the door and knocked. A moment later, it was opened by the butler, who had a kind smile on his lips. “Good afternoon, Miss Dowding,” he greeted, opening the door wide. “Lady Jane has been expecting you and is in the drawing room.”

As Madalene stepped into the entry hall, she asked, “Is Lord Hawthorne home?”

“He is not.”

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