A Dangerous Pursuit (Regency Spies & Secrets Book 1) - Laura Beers (macos ebook reader .TXT) 📗

onto the table. “If you read the bill, you will see the advantages of having the Home Office oversee the poor. It would free up the parishes to deal with other matters within their borders.”

“How exactly did you determine that?”

In a dismissive tone, Lord Desmond replied, “It is much too complicated for you to understand.”

“Allow me to be the judge of that,” Baldwin responded.

“The Poor Laws are outdated, and the parishes cannot create workhouses fast enough to help with the growing number of the poor. The government needs to provide these workhouses and contract out the management of them.”

“Aren’t some workhouses already contracted out in that manner?”

“They are,” Lord Desmond confirmed, “but most parish workhouses appoint a person or group of people within the parish to manage it, called the overseers of the poor.”

“And it is your opinion that contracting out the work to someone is much more efficient than using the overseers of the poor.”

Lord Desmond nodded. “It is, especially since some overseers are far more effective than others.”

“Then why don’t you draft a bill that changes how the workhouses are managed rather than burden us with a bill that creates a new agency within the Home Office to oversee the poor?”

“Because we need more workhouses in the rookeries, and we need them now,” Lord Desmond declared. “The Home Office has resources that would allow us to build these workhouses without delay.”

The Lord Chancellor rose from his chair and announced, “I’m afraid it is time we move on to other pressing matters.” He shifted his gaze to Lord Westinghouse. “You now have the floor.”

As Baldwin returned to his seat, Percy leaned closer and whispered, “I wouldn’t look now, but Lord Desmond is staring daggers at you.”

“I am not the least bit surprised.”

Percy studied him curiously. “I hadn’t realized that you were so opposed to Lord Desmond’s bill.”

“I find anything that will weaken our national security to be an issue for me.”

“Well said.”

Turning his attention towards Lord Desmond, Baldwin saw the lord was, in fact, glaring at him. He met his gaze and tipped his head.

Lord Desmond scoffed and turned his attention to Lord Westinghouse, who was currently speaking about the Corn Laws.

Baldwin sat back and listened as the other lords debated about the price of grain and the effects it had on the economy. This was to be his life now, he realized. He stifled a groan at that terrible thought.

“I shall tie you to a tree,” Mrs. Foster declared as she pulled her needle through the fabric. “That way you won’t be able to sneak out again.”

Madalene pushed her own needle and thread through the white handkerchief she was working on. “That sounds deucedly uncomfortable,” she said.

“As well it should be.”

“Why not just lock me in my bedchamber?” Madalene asked, amused.

Mrs. Foster huffed indignantly. “You would just leave by way of the window.”

“True,” Madalene replied. “The stones on the townhouse would make excellent footholds. I haven’t tried, but I am sure I could climb down.”

“Do be serious, Madalene,” Mrs. Foster contended.

Madalene lowered the handkerchief to her lap. “I am sorry that I snuck out last night, but I had no choice.”

Mrs. Foster frowned. “One always has a choice,” she contended, “and you chose very poorly. You must safeguard your reputation at all costs.”

“You are right, of course.”

“It is not a matter of simply being right.”

Placing the fabric onto the settee next to her, Madalene reached for her cup of tea on the table. “I was hoping to buy Edith’s freedom.”

“Your intentions were noble, but you failed in that regard.”

“That may be true, but now Mrs. Hardy is out of debt to that horrid man.”

Mrs. Foster’s face softened. “You have a good heart, much like your mother, but you need to think things through a little more carefully.”

“Patience has never been one of my virtues.”

“I know, child,” Mrs. Foster replied, “but I don’t know what I would have done if you had been abducted last night.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“You are naïve in the ways of the world,” Mrs. Foster said with a sigh. “You could never fight off a man who is intent on doing you harm.”

“You underestimate me.”

“Perhaps, but it is my job to keep you safe.”

Madalene took a sip of her tea before saying, “And you are doing a splendid job.”

“Am I?” Mrs. Foster questioned. “In the past few days, you have snuck out twice, to go to a coffeehouse and a gambling hall.”

“All with good reason.”

Mrs. Foster shook her head. “I don’t know what I am going to do with you. I daresay that I would have a more productive conversation with a cat.”

Madalene placed her cup on the table. “I know that I am making light of this conversation,” she replied, “but I assure you that no harm was done from me visiting the coffeehouse or gambling hall.”

“Except that Lord Hawthorne saw you,” Mrs. Foster said, giving her a knowing look. “Both times.”

“That may be true, but he has agreed to help me find Edith.”

“I don’t want you to get your hopes up,” Mrs. Foster remarked. “What would a marquess know about finding a missing person?”

“It is different with Lord Hawthorne.”

“In what way?”

Madalene pressed her lips together as she considered her response. It was evident that Lord Hawthorne held secrets. She could see it in his eyes, but they were safely guarded. Furthermore, he did claim to have a certain set of skills that could help her find Edith.

“There is more to Lord Hawthorne than meets the eye,” Madalene said.

“What are you referring to?”

“I can’t explain it,” Madalene admitted, “but I feel as if I can trust the man.”

Mrs. Foster didn’t appear pleased by her admission, apparent by the frown that appeared on her lips. “You shouldn’t give your trust to a man with whom you are hardly acquainted.”

“I know it sounds foolish—”

Speaking over her, Mrs. Foster said, “It does, and, frankly, I am back to wanting to tie you to a tree.”

Madalene laughed at her companion’s unexpected remark. “I will