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hint of unease. “What if someone saw us? I would be ruined.”

“That is why the closed carriage is parked under a bridge. No one will see us get in, I’m sure of it.”

“And if you are wrong?”

Lord Hawthorne met her gaze, his eyes growing intense. “Then I will have no choice but to marry you.”

Her brow shot up. “You cannot be in earnest!”

“I wouldn’t let your reputation suffer on my behalf,” he stated. “I refuse to have that on my conscience.”

“You would willingly enter into a marriage of convenience with a woman that you hardly know?”

Adjusting the reins in his hand, he commented, “There are worse things.”

“Such as?”

“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.”

“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.”

“I am glad to be of assistance, then.”

“And I’m truly hoping that Miss Hardy is among the missing women.”

“As am I.”

Lord

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