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“I am not surprised in the least.”
Mrs. Foster laughed. “You could always join me on my shopping trips.”
“I would rather not.”
“And why is that?”
“Because searching through fabrics does not interest me,” Madalene replied honestly. “I would much rather be reading a book.”
“You shouldn’t say such things,” Mrs. Foster remarked, lowering her voice. “You could be labeled as a bluestocking.”
“So be it.”
Mrs. Foster shook her head good-naturedly. “It is a good thing that you are beautiful and rich. You get to write your own rules.”
“Isn’t that grand?” Madalene asked as she started walking towards the door. “If you need me, I am going to change for breakfast.”
“I find it odd that Mrs. Ridley called on you so early this morning.”
Madalene stopped at the door. “I don’t,” she replied, glancing back at her companion. “I have come to always expect the unexpected from that woman.”
“Do you wonder what else Mr. Ridley wrote on that piece of paper?” Mrs. Foster joked.
“I do not,” Madalene replied.
As Madalene stepped out from the drawing room, she headed towards the grand staircase that dominated one side of the entry hall. Her thoughts kept returning to Mr. Ridley. She would need to be mindful not to encourage the man. The last thing on her mind was marriage.
Madalene glanced outthe window of the coach in the unfashionable part of Town and watched as the street vendors hawked their goods on the crowded pavement.
Mrs. Foster removed a fan from the reticule around her left wrist and started fanning her face. “Are we almost there?”
“We are.”
“Thank heavens,” Mrs. Foster said, lowering her fan to her lap. “After spending nearly all of yesterday traveling to Town, I’m afraid I am growing rather tired of seeing the interior of this coach.”
Madalene gave her an understanding smile. “I do appreciate you coming with me.”
Mrs. Foster returned her smile and replied, “That is what a dutiful companion does, especially when you desire to visit an unsavory part of Town.”
“Well, I am grateful that you are my companion.”
“As am I, my dear,” Mrs. Foster said, her voice sounding sincere. “There is no place I would rather be.”
Madalene smoothed down her simple cotton gown. “I am most relieved that my mother had the foresight to convince you to stay on as my companion before she died.”
“Your mother was always looking out for you.”
“That she was,” Madalene agreed in a soft voice.
“I just hope that I have helped you as much as you have helped me,” Mrs. Foster remarked.
“Oh, you most assuredly have,” Madalene replied. “I don’t know how I would have endured these past few months without you by my side.”
Mrs. Foster smiled tenderly. “You are a strong child, much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
Madalene lowered her gaze to her lap and admitted, “I don’t feel very strong.”
“Why do you say that?”
