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Authors: Manda Collins
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with what he hoped was indifference. “She is the cousin of my friend Winterson’s wife.”
“Is she, indeed?” Tretham asked. “I hope you won’t let that friendship compromise your duty. You would not be the first man to be taken in by a pretty face, son.”
“Lady Madeline is not involved in her brother’s activities,” Chritian bit out. “She was there to conduct research for a novel, for pity’s sake. It was foolish for her to convince her brother to take her there, but hardly criminal.”
Then, realizing he might have sounded less than respectful, he added, “My lord.”
Leighton remained silent, waiting for Christian to continue. It was a particularly effective interrogation technique. One that Christian had used himself a time or two. Realizing that his superior was giving him a chance to make amends, he thrust his hands through his hair, ruining his valet’s hard work.
“My apologies,” he said finally. “It would appear that I am perhaps more involved with the young lady than I like to admit. But I do assure you that she has nothing to do with the Citizen’s Liberaton Society. I don’t really think her brother is, either, though his behavior last night is certainly not that of an innocent man.”
“No, it isn’t,” Leighton said, rising. “I want you to find out one way or another, Gresham. And that might mean making that pretty face you’re fond of look very sad. Are you prepared to risk that?”
Christian stood as well. “I won’t like doing so, of course,” he said, “but I will do what’s necessary to ensure the country’s safety.”
“Good man,” Leighton said with a smile. “If we’re lucky, you won’t need to make your lady weep.”
Following his commander from the room, Christian sent up a prayer that he was right. Otherwise, he’d have to deal with a very angry, very distraught Maddie.
* * *
Fully prepared to spend the entirety of the Marchford ball sitting out every dance, Maddie was somewhat surprised to find herself in demand as a dance partner, thanks in no small part to her firsthand knowledge of what had happened at Mrs. Bailey’s the night before.
True, she had been less wont to sit out dances since her cousins had married, but even so she was certainly no toast. And Amelia Snowe, still smarting from her own failure to bring someone, anyone, up to scratch, had done her part to make sure that Maddie did not benefit too much from her cousins’ marriages. It was an open secret that Amelia had set her cap for the Duke of Winterson at the beginning of the season. And the fact that someone like Cecily Hurston, who, though a viscount’s daughter, was considered firmly on the shelf, had caught Winterson’s eye galled Amelia to no end.
Thus it was that Maddie found herself the recipient of Amelia’s glare from the opposite side of the room as she took her place next to Cecily once more.
“Someone should tell Amelia that scowling like that can lead to wrinkles,” she said to her cousin as she sipped the cup of punch Lord Dimsdale had brought her. “I should think someone as concerned with her appearance would know that.”
“Well, you were dancing with Lord Dimsdale, dearest,” Cecily said. “She’s had to lower her expectations since both Winterson and Deveril defected. But I understand that Dimsdale has a healthy income. Certainly enough to keep her in frocks.”
“I don’t think you’ve sat out a dance all evening,” Juliet said from her position next to Cecily. “You are certainly in looks tonight. Is that a new gown?”
“You know it is,” Maddie said with a grin. “It’s the one I bought the day that Deveril came with us to Madame Celeste’s.”
She was amused to see her cousin blush. That had been the day she convinced Deveril that he would need to take desperate measures if he wished to court Juliet. Which had, apparently, worked because it wasn’t too much later that the two had married.
“I was rather
“Is she, indeed?” Tretham asked. “I hope you won’t let that friendship compromise your duty. You would not be the first man to be taken in by a pretty face, son.”
“Lady Madeline is not involved in her brother’s activities,” Chritian bit out. “She was there to conduct research for a novel, for pity’s sake. It was foolish for her to convince her brother to take her there, but hardly criminal.”
Then, realizing he might have sounded less than respectful, he added, “My lord.”
Leighton remained silent, waiting for Christian to continue. It was a particularly effective interrogation technique. One that Christian had used himself a time or two. Realizing that his superior was giving him a chance to make amends, he thrust his hands through his hair, ruining his valet’s hard work.
“My apologies,” he said finally. “It would appear that I am perhaps more involved with the young lady than I like to admit. But I do assure you that she has nothing to do with the Citizen’s Liberaton Society. I don’t really think her brother is, either, though his behavior last night is certainly not that of an innocent man.”
“No, it isn’t,” Leighton said, rising. “I want you to find out one way or another, Gresham. And that might mean making that pretty face you’re fond of look very sad. Are you prepared to risk that?”
Christian stood as well. “I won’t like doing so, of course,” he said, “but I will do what’s necessary to ensure the country’s safety.”
“Good man,” Leighton said with a smile. “If we’re lucky, you won’t need to make your lady weep.”
Following his commander from the room, Christian sent up a prayer that he was right. Otherwise, he’d have to deal with a very angry, very distraught Maddie.
* * *
Fully prepared to spend the entirety of the Marchford ball sitting out every dance, Maddie was somewhat surprised to find herself in demand as a dance partner, thanks in no small part to her firsthand knowledge of what had happened at Mrs. Bailey’s the night before.
True, she had been less wont to sit out dances since her cousins had married, but even so she was certainly no toast. And Amelia Snowe, still smarting from her own failure to bring someone, anyone, up to scratch, had done her part to make sure that Maddie did not benefit too much from her cousins’ marriages. It was an open secret that Amelia had set her cap for the Duke of Winterson at the beginning of the season. And the fact that someone like Cecily Hurston, who, though a viscount’s daughter, was considered firmly on the shelf, had caught Winterson’s eye galled Amelia to no end.
Thus it was that Maddie found herself the recipient of Amelia’s glare from the opposite side of the room as she took her place next to Cecily once more.
“Someone should tell Amelia that scowling like that can lead to wrinkles,” she said to her cousin as she sipped the cup of punch Lord Dimsdale had brought her. “I should think someone as concerned with her appearance would know that.”
“Well, you were dancing with Lord Dimsdale, dearest,” Cecily said. “She’s had to lower her expectations since both Winterson and Deveril defected. But I understand that Dimsdale has a healthy income. Certainly enough to keep her in frocks.”
“I don’t think you’ve sat out a dance all evening,” Juliet said from her position next to Cecily. “You are certainly in looks tonight. Is that a new gown?”
“You know it is,” Maddie said with a grin. “It’s the one I bought the day that Deveril came with us to Madame Celeste’s.”
She was amused to see her cousin blush. That had been the day she convinced Deveril that he would need to take desperate measures if he wished to court Juliet. Which had, apparently, worked because it wasn’t too much later that the two had married.
“I was rather
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