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Ridley said, giving her son a pointed look. “Aren’t you?”

A line of sweat was forming on Mr. Ridley’s brow as he replied, “I am. I hope this means that you will be willing to save me a dance?” His tone was hopeful.

“I would be happy to.”

Mr. Ridley let out a relieved sigh. “I thought you would say no,” he said before his face grew splotchy.

Madalene suspected that Mr. Ridley had not intended to say his last words out loud. Poor man, she thought.

“Why would I say no?” she asked. “You have been an excellent dance partner on multiple occasions.”

Mr. Ridley puffed out his chest in pride at her praise. “I am happy to hear you say that, Miss Dowding.”

Mrs. Ridley must have liked her response as well, because an approving smile was on her lips. “My son will be by later to collect his dance.”

As they walked off, Mrs. Foster whispered, “I wish you wouldn’t give that man false hope.”

“Frankly, I feel bad for him.”

“Just don’t feel too bad for him, because I don’t think you would enjoy having Mrs. Ridley as your mother-in-law,” Mrs. Foster teased.

Madalene shook her head vehemently, causing the brown curls that framed her face to sway back and forth. “I would resign myself to being a spinster before I ever agreed to marry Mr. Ridley.”

They came to a stop next to an opening by the wall, and Mrs. Foster said, “Your presence here is causing quite a sensation.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you rarely attend social events, and I can’t help but notice that the gentlemen are eyeing you with interest.”

Madalene stifled a groan as she adjusted the sleeve of her ivory muslin ballgown. “I just hope I don’t have to deal with scheming mothers this evening.”

Her words had barely left her lips when a man’s chuckle came from behind her.

Madalene turned around and saw Lord Oliver, his eyes holding amusement.

“I have complained about the same thing on multiple occasions,” he said. “The scheming mothers can be quite relentless, can they not?”

Smiling, Madalene replied, “I wonder if they have any shame at all.”

“Not when it comes to securing a suitable match for their child.” Oliver’s lips quirked slightly. “How are you this evening, Miss Dowding?”

“I am well.”

“It pleases me immensely to hear that,” he said. “Apparently, others are happy that you are here, as well. One cannot help but notice the attention that you have garnered since you first stepped foot into the ballroom.”

“Unfortunately, I find that I have grown accustomed to the stares and whispers.”

“As have I,” Oliver shared. “I’m afraid it doesn’t make it any easier though.”

“No, it does not,” Madalene agreed.

Oliver took a step closer to her and said, “I was hoping to secure you for the first set of the evening.”

Madalene tipped her head. “I would be delighted, my lord.”

“Wonderful,” Oliver declared as he extended his hand towards her. “Shall I escort you to the dance floor?”

She accepted his hand and he led her towards the middle of the room. Once they arrived, he placed his hand over hers to secure it in place.

“The dance hasn’t begun yet,” Oliver said as other couples started making their way towards them, “but it should start shortly.”

Madalene took a moment to study Lord Oliver. He was definitely a handsome man, sharing many of the same physical attributes as his brother. She had no doubt that he was aware of that fact, because his words always seemed too smooth, too rehearsed. But his eyes told her a different story. They held a great sadness in them, despite his cocky demeanor.

“May I ask what has you so preoccupied?” he asked, leaning closer.

“I was just woolgathering, I’m afraid.”

Oliver chuckled. “Which is a polite way of calling someone boring.”

“That is not what I meant, my lord,” she rushed to say. “Please do not take offense when there was none intended.”

He patted her hand. “I am only teasing you, Miss Dowding,” he said. “What occupies your time?”

“The usual pursuits, I suppose.”

“Such as?”

“Would you care to hear the polite answers or the truth?”

Oliver gave her an amused look. “The truth, if you don’t mind.”

“I enjoy riding at my country estate, and I recently opened an orphanage.”

“Yes, the Elizabeth Dowding School for Orphan Girls,” Oliver replied. “I remember my mother and sister telling me about that. What a tremendous accomplishment.”

“Thank you.” Madalene glanced over her shoulder to ensure no one would be privy to what she was about to ask. “May I ask you a question?”

Oliver smiled flirtatiously. “You may ask me anything that you want, my dear.”

Ignoring his tone, she asked, “We didn’t speak of it in the coach, but why were you in the rookeries that day your brother pretended to abduct me?”

His smile dimmed. “Why would you care to know that?”

“Lord Hawthorne also said you were following us to ensure my protection,” she pressed. “Why was that?”

His eyes grew guarded. “You will have to ask my brother.”

“Why is that exactly?” she questioned.

“I know it may sound confusing, but there was a perfectly rational explanation for why I was in the rookeries.”

She looked at him expectantly. “Which was?”

“I am not at liberty to say,” he murmured as his eyes scanned the room. “Furthermore, this is not the place to discuss such things.”

“I apologize, but I have so many questions that remain unanswered.”

Lord Oliver kept a smile on his lips, but she could hear the warning in his tone. “A ball is generally a place where you discuss things that are much more pleasant.”

Madalene frowned, ever so slightly, and asked, “You aren’t going to tell me anything, are you?”

“No, but I would like to hear more about your orphanage,” Oliver said, glancing over at her. “That sounds more interesting.”

It was maddening that Oliver refused to answer her questions, but before she could press him any further, the music started up and he led her to where she was to line up. He dropped her arm and went to stand across from her.

As Madalene began to dance to the music, she

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