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“And you are just going to throw me over your shoulder?”
He looked at her blankly. “Will that be an issue?”
“I suppose not.”
Lord Hawthorne held up the gunnysack and placed a finger inside one of the many holes. “I took the liberty of cutting small holes into the material so you can breathe.”
“How thoughtful of you,” she muttered. “How long am I required to be in there?”
“At least until we arrive at the pub.”
Madalene nibbled her lower lip, wondering why she had agreed to this madness in the first place. “What happens after we arrive at the pub?”
“Most likely, I will take you to where the other missing girls are being held; hopefully that includes Miss Hardy.”
“I hope so,” she murmured.
Lord Hawthorne moved the drape that covered the window and glanced out. “I have no doubt that my brother is trailing us at this moment.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know my brother,” he replied, bringing his gaze to meet hers.
“It must be nice to have a brother that you can rely on.”
“It is.”
Madalene grew silent as her eyes strayed to the sack. She had no doubt that traveling in that gunnysack was going to be deucedly uncomfortable.
Lord Hawthorne’s voice broke her out of her musings. “You need to do something with your hair.”
“Pardon?” Her hand flew up to touch her neatly coiffed hair. What’s wrong with my hair, she wondered.
He leaned forward in his seat. “May I?” he asked.
She nodded, unsure of his intent.
His hand reached out and started removing strands of her hair from the chignon in a haphazard fashion. “Much better,” he declared, his eyes sparking with approval. “Now your gown needs some work.”
She swatted away his hand as he reached for the sleeve of her blue cotton gown. “I think not,” she proclaimed haughtily.
“You need to appear as if you fought while being abducted,” he pointed out.
“I am sure that spending time in a gunnysack, slung over your shoulder, will do the trick,” Madalene responded.
Lord Hawthorne put his hands up in surrender. “As you wish,” he muttered as he sat back on the bench.
“You mentioned the Bow Street Runners will raid the pub and rescue me,” she started, “but you failed to mention how I will return home.”
“My brother will see to that.”
“Where will you be?”
Lord Hawthorne smirked. “Hiding from the Bow Street Runners.”
“I see,” she mumbled, even though she didn’t see.
A silence descended over the coach as they both retreated to their own thoughts. After a long moment, Lord Hawthorne spoke up. “These men who have abducted the girls are dangerous and need to be stopped, and your cooperation will go a long way in helping to do that.”
