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“Death,” he replied curtly.
Madalene shifted on the bench as she turned to face him. “That is a wonderful endorsement of matrimony.”
“I only speak the truth.”
“Do you not intend to marry for love?”
Lord Hawthorne kept his gaze straight ahead. “Frankly, I do not intend to marry,” he replied.
“But don’t you require an heir?”
“My brother is my heir.”
Madalene found herself smiling at his admission. “I can only imagine the matchmaking mothers and their attempts to ensnare you into matrimony. I wonder what their reaction to seeing you now would be, dressed in your pauper’s clothes.”
“I can avoid them easily,” he said, ignoring the comment about his appearance.
“They can be quite crafty,” she warned.
Lord Hawthorne spared her a glance. “And do you wish to marry for love?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Like you, I wish to avoid the marital noose.”
“But you are a woman.”
A disbelieving puff of air left her lips. “Thank you for noticing, my lord.”
“I did not mean to insult you, but I thought all women wished to be wed.”
“Not I,” she admitted. “I have my own sizeable fortune, and I do not wish to be tied down to any man.”
“What if you fell in love?”
She considered his words carefully before responding. “I would have to fall indisputably in love with him, much like my father and mother were.”
“Were they a love match?”
“They were, and after my father passed away, my mother couldn’t bring herself to ever marry again.”
“I find that admirable.”
With a curious glance at him, Madalene asked, “Were your parents a love match?”
Lord Hawthorne nodded. “It started off as an arranged marriage, but my parents grew to love each other deeply,” he shared as he pulled back on the reins, bringing the carriage to a stop. “We will just need to walk a short distance to the bridge.”
After Lord Hawthorne set the brake, he came around and assisted her off the carriage. The bridge was ahead of them, a closed carriage parked under it. A driver and a footman were standing guard as they approached.
The footman opened the door and assisted Madalene as she stepped inside. Lord Hawthorne ducked inside the coach and sat across from her.
They didn’t speak until the coach started rolling down the street. “That was the easy part. Now comes the hard part,” Lord Hawthorne said, breaking the silence.
“Which is?” Madalene asked nervously.
Reaching under the bench, he pulled out a large sack. “You will need to get inside the gunnysack, and I am going to tie the top with rope.”
“You want me to get inside that?” she repeated in disbelief.
“Yes, but not right now.”
