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Chapter One
England, 1814
Miss Madalene Dowding leaned lower in the saddle as she urged her horse forward, coaxing a little more speed out of the white gelding. She knew she was racing at a breakneck pace, but that did little to deter her. She did not fear falling off her horse. Frankly, she feared very little since her mother’s death.
Her mother.
It had been six months since her mother had died, leaving her utterly devastated. The familiar feeling of grief washed over her, and she fought hard to push down the bitterness that threatened to rise up inside of her. Never had she felt so alone, despite constantly being surrounded by people. She struggled to find the contentment that she once knew, but it was proving to be a much more difficult task than she had ever imagined.
The sun sat high on the horizon, filling the valley with light. She inhaled the slight crispness of the air as she reined in her horse at the top of a hill. How she preferred living at her country home, far away from Town!
Her mother had always enjoyed the sights and sounds of London, and they would spend every Season there without fail. That was, until her mother got sick and the doctor suggested she remove herself to the country. For the next four months, Madalene had watched her mother wither away, and there had been nothing she could do to stop it.
A tear snuck out of her eye and slowly rolled down her cheek.
Why am I even thinking about this, she chided herself. Reaching up, she wiped the tear away with her riding glove. Her mother was gone. She had to accept that and move on. So why did the ache in her heart never cease to go away?
Madalene tightened the hold on the reins as her eyes scanned her land. At times, she could scarcely believe that she had become one of England’s largest landowners upon her mother’s death. It was a wonderful feeling to know that she could care for herself and for those she was responsible for.
Turning her horse back towards the manor, she kicked the gelding into a run and didn’t stop until she reached the round gravel courtyard. She dismounted in a swift motion and extended her reins towards the lead groom.
“How was your ride?” the tall groom asked.
“It was wonderful, James.”
James placed his hand on the gelding’s neck and asked, “Will you be riding again this evening?”
“Most likely,” she replied.
He tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Then I’d better go brush down your horse and give him something to eat.”
“Thank you.”
Madalene started walking towards the main door when it was opened by her short, black-haired butler. Graham had been with the family for as long as she could remember, and he had the most pleasant disposition about him.
“Good morning, Miss,” Graham said, stepping to the side to grant her entry. “I take it by the smile on your face that your ride went well.”
“It did,” Madalene replied as she started to remove her gloves. “Nothing pleases me more than riding in the morning hours.”
Graham gave her a knowing smile. “I daresay that riding at any hour gives you great pleasure.”
“That it does.”
With a side glance at the drawing room, Graham grew serious and lowered his voice. “Mrs. Ridley and her son, Mr. Ridley, have requested to speak to you and are waiting for you in the drawing room.”
Madalene stifled the groan that had formed on her lips. “Did they state why?”
Her butler gave her an apologetic look. “Mrs. Ridley did not, and I did not question her any further,” he replied. “I did, however, inform her that you were on a ride, but that seemed to do little to deter her.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Mrs. Ridley is much too determined for that,” Madalene said as she extended her gloves towards Graham. “Will you inform Mrs. Foster that I require her presence in the drawing room?”
“Yes, Miss,” Graham responded before he stepped back.
Madalene turned reluctantly towards the drawing room door. How she tired of these house calls. She had grown to dread them. Scheming mothers would parade their sons in front of her in hopes that she would fall for their flowery words. It grew rather tiresome.
She walked over to the door and peered in. Mr. Ridley was standing next to the window, looking out towards her well-maintained gardens, as his mother sat rigidly on the sofa. She had to admit that he wasn’t entirely unfortunate to look upon with his sharp features and straight nose, but he had one flaw that she could not overlook. His mother. Mrs. Ridley was intolerable. She was a gossiping busybody and had deemed most people of the village beneath her.
Smoothing down her dark blue riding habit, Madalene stepped into the room and greeted her guests.
