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“Good morning, Mrs. Ridley.” She tipped her head at the woman’s son. “Mr. Ridley.”
He turned from the window and faced her. His eyes perused the length of her, and she could see the approval in them. “You are looking especially lovely this morning, Miss Dowding.”
“Thank you,” Madalene replied graciously.
Mrs. Ridley spoke up from the sofa, her words sounding less than genuine. “I must agree with my son, Miss Dowding. You are looking quite beautiful this morning.”
Madalene smiled politely at her. “My morning ride must have agreed with me, then.”
“Oh, do you like to ride?” Mrs. Ridley asked innocently.
“I do.”
“My son also loves to ride,” Mrs. Ridley said, glancing over at him. “Don’t you, Roger?”
“I do.” Mr. Ridley cleared his throat. “Very much.”
“Is that so?” Madalene asked, attempting to feign interest.
“It is,” Mr. Ridley confirmed. “I also like dancing.”
“Dancing is a most wonderful pastime.” Madalene wasn’t entirely pleased at the direction this conversation had taken.
Mr. Ridley took a step closer to her, and his face was now red with a thin line of perspiration on his upper lip. “I was hoping you would save me a dance at Mrs. Brooks’ ball tomorrow evening.”
Madalene clasped her hands in front of her, delaying her response. She didn’t want to encourage the poor man, but she didn’t want to be rude either. “I’m afraid I haven’t decided if I will be in attendance yet,” she admitted honestly.
Mrs. Ridley gasped. “But you must!”
Fortunately, before she could respond, her companion, Mrs. Foster, walked into the room. “I am sorry that I am late,” she said with a smile on her lips.
Madalene stepped closer to her silver-haired companion. “Thank you for joining us, Mrs. Foster.”
“It is my pleasure,” Mrs. Foster replied before turning her attention towards Mrs. Ridley. “How are you doing this fine morning?”
“I am well,” Mrs. Ridley replied with a forced smile.
“I am happy to hear that,” Mrs. Foster said.
Mrs. Ridley turned her attention towards Madalene. “I believe my son is still waiting for your response.”
Madalene attempted to keep her face expressionless as she replied, “I would be happy to save Mr. Ridley a dance, if I attend the ball.”
Mrs. Ridley clapped her hands together. “You two will make such a dashing couple on the dance floor.”
“Thank you, Miss Dowding,” Mr. Ridley remarked as he wiped the sweat off his upper lip. “You have made me immensely happy.”
A silence descended over the room, and Madalene watched as Mrs. Ridley gave her son a pointed look. Mr. Ridley reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out a small piece of paper. He unfolded it and studied it for a moment.
“Do you like to draw, Miss Dowding?” he finally asked.
Madalene glanced curiously at the piece of paper in his hand. “I do, very much.”
“It would appear that we have something else in common, Miss Dowding,” Mr. Ridley said as he slipped the paper back into his waistcoat pocket.
Mrs. Ridley smiled approvingly at her son. “Is there anything else you wanted to ask Miss Dowding?”
Mr. Ridley gave his mother a blank stare. “I don’t believe so.”
