could rarely act, and she could only suggest charades at house parties so many times before people declined. It was with Prudence and Amelia’s encouragement that Madeleine finally sought out Madame Legrand and a real stage.
But this Friday, Madeleine didn’t want to discuss the latest developments with her friends. How could she tell them she had expanded her repertoire and become Ferguson’s mistress? It was hard enough lying to Aunt Augusta at breakfast about why she had “confined herself to her room” the night before, when she had promised to attend the Locktons’ ball.
Amelia would not let her keep secrets, though. As soon as Prudence arrived and they were all ensconced in the small back sitting room that overlooked the Staunton gardens, the inquisition began.
“Where were you last night?” Amelia demanded. “I know you weren’t in your room before we left the house, and when I returned after two, your door was locked.”
Madeleine had heard someone try the handle as she tossed away another sleepless night, but she had not wanted company. “It took longer to leave the theatre than I expected.”
“Nonsense,” Amelia said. “We have timed that route exactly. When I left for the ball, you were already over an hour late. And since Josephine was here to make your excuses to Aunt Augusta, you were somewhere without an escort.”
Madeleine couldn’t say anything without incriminating herself further. “What were you thinking?” Amelia continued, starting to pace. “London isn’t safe for any of us alone at night. And the danger is not merely our reputations — any number of things could happen in Mayfair, let alone in Seven Dials. Highwaymen, procuresses, white slavers from the Barbary Coast...”
Madeleine sighed as she watched her cousin pace the room. Amelia always paced when she was agitated, or just thinking things through. Since this was the room she wrote in, there was a well-worn path for her in the carpet.
“Isn’t the Barbary Coast a bit far from Mayfair?” Madeleine asked.
“Yes. They would never be suspected,” Amelia said triumphantly. Madeleine sighed again. Amelia would be easier to reason with if she didn’t occasionally lapse into thinking that the events of her Gothic novels could happen to them.
“Madeleine would never be so careless,” Prudence said soothingly, assuming her usual role of peacemaker. “The logical answer is that she was not alone.”
Amelia stopped pacing to stare at Madeleine. “Then if Josephine was not with you, who escorted you home?”
Madeleine looked at both of them. They were her dearest friends and she trusted them completely — but they would not be pleased with her next words. “Pierre brought me home after retrieving me from the duke of Rothwell.”
Prudence gasped. Amelia’s jaw dropped. They could not have been more surprised if Madeleine claimed she was rescued by Shakespeare’s ghost. As much as Madeleine had not wanted to tell them, this reaction was worth it.
Finally, Amelia pulled herself back into some semblance of order. “Why on earth did you take Rothwell, of all people, into your confidence? The man is a scoundrel, and we know just how unstable his family is!”
Madeleine held up her hands. “I had no choice. Ferguson came back after the play was over and discovered me.”
“Oh, so he’s Ferguson now?” Prudence teased. “I do hope he hasn’t taken unwanted liberties.”
Madeleine flushed.
Prudence laughed delightedly. “So he has taken unwanted liberties! Or were they not so unwanted after all?”
“Prudence!” Amelia gasped.
Madeleine frowned at her cousin. “Why are you so upset about this, Mellie? I thought you would react like Prudence did. Weren’t you the one who always thought we needed to embrace new experiences to improve our art?”
It was Amelia’s turn to flush. “I may have said that, but I never expected you to dally with a duke. You, who wouldn’t even kiss the dancing master when I
But this Friday, Madeleine didn’t want to discuss the latest developments with her friends. How could she tell them she had expanded her repertoire and become Ferguson’s mistress? It was hard enough lying to Aunt Augusta at breakfast about why she had “confined herself to her room” the night before, when she had promised to attend the Locktons’ ball.
Amelia would not let her keep secrets, though. As soon as Prudence arrived and they were all ensconced in the small back sitting room that overlooked the Staunton gardens, the inquisition began.
“Where were you last night?” Amelia demanded. “I know you weren’t in your room before we left the house, and when I returned after two, your door was locked.”
Madeleine had heard someone try the handle as she tossed away another sleepless night, but she had not wanted company. “It took longer to leave the theatre than I expected.”
“Nonsense,” Amelia said. “We have timed that route exactly. When I left for the ball, you were already over an hour late. And since Josephine was here to make your excuses to Aunt Augusta, you were somewhere without an escort.”
Madeleine couldn’t say anything without incriminating herself further. “What were you thinking?” Amelia continued, starting to pace. “London isn’t safe for any of us alone at night. And the danger is not merely our reputations — any number of things could happen in Mayfair, let alone in Seven Dials. Highwaymen, procuresses, white slavers from the Barbary Coast...”
Madeleine sighed as she watched her cousin pace the room. Amelia always paced when she was agitated, or just thinking things through. Since this was the room she wrote in, there was a well-worn path for her in the carpet.
“Isn’t the Barbary Coast a bit far from Mayfair?” Madeleine asked.
“Yes. They would never be suspected,” Amelia said triumphantly. Madeleine sighed again. Amelia would be easier to reason with if she didn’t occasionally lapse into thinking that the events of her Gothic novels could happen to them.
“Madeleine would never be so careless,” Prudence said soothingly, assuming her usual role of peacemaker. “The logical answer is that she was not alone.”
Amelia stopped pacing to stare at Madeleine. “Then if Josephine was not with you, who escorted you home?”
Madeleine looked at both of them. They were her dearest friends and she trusted them completely — but they would not be pleased with her next words. “Pierre brought me home after retrieving me from the duke of Rothwell.”
Prudence gasped. Amelia’s jaw dropped. They could not have been more surprised if Madeleine claimed she was rescued by Shakespeare’s ghost. As much as Madeleine had not wanted to tell them, this reaction was worth it.
Finally, Amelia pulled herself back into some semblance of order. “Why on earth did you take Rothwell, of all people, into your confidence? The man is a scoundrel, and we know just how unstable his family is!”
Madeleine held up her hands. “I had no choice. Ferguson came back after the play was over and discovered me.”
“Oh, so he’s Ferguson now?” Prudence teased. “I do hope he hasn’t taken unwanted liberties.”
Madeleine flushed.
Prudence laughed delightedly. “So he has taken unwanted liberties! Or were they not so unwanted after all?”
“Prudence!” Amelia gasped.
Madeleine frowned at her cousin. “Why are you so upset about this, Mellie? I thought you would react like Prudence did. Weren’t you the one who always thought we needed to embrace new experiences to improve our art?”
It was Amelia’s turn to flush. “I may have said that, but I never expected you to dally with a duke. You, who wouldn’t even kiss the dancing master when I
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