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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.”
