The Purloined Heart (The Tyburn Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF Page B

fair dealing. He took his leave.
    Mrs. Kingston read the gossip sheets, along with the rest of London, and insisted her girls relay any indiscreet pillow-talk. Some of the information thus gleaned, she passed along to Kane; the remainder, she kept for her own use.
    The baron’s current purpose, she couldn’t fathom. “May one ask why?”
    He rested his hand on her silk-clad leg. “Let us merely say that it is never wise to bet against a dark horse.”

Chapter Six
     
     
    A man must know how to defy opinion; a woman how to submit to it.  —Mme de Stäel
     
     
    Evening had fallen. The lamps had been lit. Maddie paused in the hallway outside her papa’s study, wondering what she —  or Penn, or Benjie —  had done to rouse his wrath this time. Had Sir Owen learned of Benjie’s turn-up with the stable boy? Of her own presence at the Burlington House masquerade?
    A footman stood staring into space. Maddie moved forward, and he sprang to open the door.
    Sir Owen was waiting by the fireplace. He gave her a stern glance. The fine art of intimidation. Maddie repressed an impulse to stick out her tongue.
    Instead, she took a seat.
    He didn’t look like a domestic tyrant, being short and stout and balding; however, not without good reason was Sir Owen Osborne known as ‘The Bludgeon’ in the House. Maddie’s father was a staunch member of the Whig party, and therefore an enemy to the Regent: the Whigs had never forgiven Prinny for not ousting his father’s Tory ministers from office when he came into power. “I’m told you’re going out,” he said.
    Maddie wondered which of the servants had informed on her. “Viscount Ashcroft is escorting me to a musicale.”
     Critically, Sir Owen examined her. “That gown don’t suit you. You resemble a Maypole in those ribbons and stripes. Still, it’s not beyond hope we may make you another advantageous match. A pity you’ve let so many opportunities slip through your fingers, but we won’t speak of that.”
    If they did not, it would be the first time. “Viscount Ashcroft—”
    “More hair than sense.” Sir Owen didn’t explain to whom this sobriquet applied. “I don’t hear Ashcroftasking me for your hand.”
    Nor would he, for which Maddie was grateful. “I am but newly out of mourning. It is too soon for me to think of marrying again.”
    “You spent over two years in mourning. That is more than enough.”
    Forever wouldn’t be too long to wait before enduring another arranged marriage. “Is it not for me to say? I am of age.”
    Sir Owen scowled. “What you are is long in the tooth. The boys will be going to school in a few months. Time you started planning for your future.”
    If she had a future, Maddie silently amended. If the pharaoh didn’t track her down and bash in her skull. Which might be preferable to marrying another of her father’s political allies.
    A footman interrupted to announce that Viscount Ashcroft had arrived.
    Sir Owen glowered at Tony, who had dressed for the evening’s entertainment in a long-tailed deep blue coat with covered buttons, and black pantaloons; high starched cravat and frilled shirt and leather pumps; satin waistcoat embroidered with bright butterflies. The viscount fidgeted. “Don’t mean to rush you —  Maman’s waiting in the carriage —  Maman don’t like to be kept waiting —  Wouldn’t wish her to fly into the boughs!”
    Sir Owen didn’t air his desire that the devil might fly off with both the viscount and his mama, but Maddie understood it was a close thing. He waved a dismissive hand. “Be off with you, then.”
    Maddie collected her shawl and reticule. “Your father don’t like me,” muttered Tony, when they were safely out-of-doors. “I don’t mind it, because I don’t like him either. The man gives me a cold grue.”
    “Oh, dear!” murmured Maddie. “He speaks so well of you.”
    Tony rolled an ironic eye. “He calls me a frippery fribble. You maythink that’s a compliment,