“Would you care for some assistance?”
Corbyn chuckled. “Need I remind you that you are retired?”
“You work too hard.”
“Someone needs to,” Corbyn replied before closing the door.
Baldwin watched as Corbyn headed down the pavement, disappearing into the first alleyway he came to.
As the coach continued down the street, Baldwin decided it was time to rehearse the speech he intended to say to Miss Dowding.
Dressed in a white gown, Madalene stared out the darkened window as she waited for Lord Hawthorne to call on her.
“I wish you would step away from the window,” Mrs. Foster said from the settee behind her. “You wouldn’t want Lord Hawthorne to see you in the window if he comes to call.”
“He will come,” Madalene remarked firmly.
“How can you be so sure?”
Madalene turned away from the window and met her companion’s gaze. “He told me he would.”
Mrs. Foster lifted her brow. “When was this?”
“When we spoke last.”
“Which was?”
Walking over to an upholstered armchair, Madalene sat down. “It matters not,” she replied dismissively.
Mrs. Foster frowned. “When you arrived home earlier, you looked terribly disheveled, and you told me quite the story about Miss Gaillard.”
“It wasn’t a story,” Madalene defended.
“I know, and I believe you,” Mrs. Foster said. “But you failed to mention anything about Lord Hawthorne or Lord Oliver being present.”
“They weren’t there when Miss Gaillard abducted me or when I freed myself.”
“Then how was it possible that Lord Oliver brought you home?” Mrs. Foster asked. “And in a hackney, no less.”
Madalene pressed her lips together, unsure of how to respond. She didn’t dare confess that Lord Hawthorne or his brother were agents of the Crown. That was not her secret to share, and she would never betray them.
Mrs. Foster sighed. “I am not a simpleton, my dear,” she said. “It is evident that you are keeping more secrets from me.”
Madalene lowered her gaze to her lap. “I’m afraid it is not my place to say anything else.”
“Just as I thought,” Mrs. Foster replied. “But I should warn you that secrets can consume you, assuming you let them.”
“I understand.”
Mrs. Foster reached for the cup of tea on the table in front of her. “I do hope that Miss Gaillard got what she deserved for abducting you and killing Miss Hardy.”
“I can assure you that she did.”
Mrs. Foster bobbed her head in approval. “That is good,” she said, bringing the cup up to her lips.
“I am sorry—” Madalene attempted.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Mrs. Foster said, speaking over her. “You have a right to your secrets, and I respect that.”
“Thank you.”
Mrs. Foster lowered the teacup to her lap. “It sounds like you had quite the adventure,” she remarked.
“I did,” Madalene responded. “I most assuredly did.”
“You never were one who enjoyed being idle for too long,” Mrs. Foster said fondly. “Perhaps Lord Hawthorne is a good fit for you after all.”
Madalene looked at her in surprise. “You approve of him?”
Mrs. Foster laughed. “Let’s not be too hasty,” she replied. “I merely think he isn’t as terrible as I once led myself to believe.”
“How did you reach that conclusion?”
“When you went missing, I went over to Lord Hawthorne’s townhouse, and I spoke to him,” Mrs. Foster revealed. “He was very attentive, and I could tell he was quite worried about you. It made me realize that I may have misjudged him.”
Madalene smiled. “I am happy to hear you say that.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be interested in a boring lord who sits around the library reading all day?” Mrs. Foster joked.
“I would not.”
“I assumed as much,” Mrs. Foster replied dramatically. “Perhaps it is time for me to do something else with my life.”
“No, no, no…” Madalene declared, moving to sit on the edge of her seat. “You are my companion. You can’t leave me alone.”
Mrs. Foster’s face softened. “I would never leave you alone, but I can’t help but wonder if you will be married soon.”
“Lord Hawthorne hasn’t declared his intentions.”
“I believe he will, and you won’t be in need of a companion anymore.”
Madalene shook her head. “I will always need you in my life.”
Placing her cup on the table, Mrs. Foster said, “I was thinking about applying for the position of headmistress of the orphanage.”
“Pardon?”
“Those girls are going to need someone to tend to them, especially after losing Miss Hardy and Miss Gaillard so closely together,” Mrs. Foster remarked. “I would like to help advance your mother’s legacy.”
“That is a splendid idea, but I am not ready to say goodbye to you,” Madalene said dejectedly.
Mrs. Foster smiled reassuringly at her. “That is the brilliant part. I won’t be so far away from Hawthorne House, and you often visit the orphanage anyway.”
“The girls would love having you as a headmistress,” Madalene commented.
“But you will need to hire someone to handle the ledgers,” Mrs. Foster asserted. “After all, I would like to spend as much of my time with the girls as possible.”
Madalene nodded. “I could do that.”
“Cheer up, Madalene,” Mrs. Foster said. “You look as if you are being led to the executioner.”
“What am I going to do without you?” she asked, her eyes filling up with tears. “You have been with me since before my mother died.”
“And that won’t ever change,” Mrs. Foster stated. “I couldn’t love you any more than if you were my own daughter.”
Graham stepped into the room and met her gaze. “Lord Hawthorne is here to call on you, Miss.”
Madalene blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall and rose from her seat. “Please send him in.”
Mrs. Foster gave her a knowing look. “I will give you and Lord Hawthorne a moment alone,” she said, “but I shall be in the next room.”
As Lord Hawthorne walked in, Madalene felt her breath hitch at the mere sight of him. He was impeccably dressed in a blue jacket, ivory waistcoat, and buff trousers. His hair was neatly brushed forward and his sideburns had been recently trimmed. She had to admit to herself that he was, by far, the most handsome man she had
