“And your societies have missed you,” Castleigh was saying. “Your mother and I have had a constant stream of callers.”
Maddie brightened. “How is Mama?”
“Tired,” her father told her. He produced an enormous stack of calling cards from his greatcoat and began laying them on the oak desk. “She’s had so many visitors calling for you. The ladies from the Widow’s Benevolent Society, the Orphan’s Munificent Society, the Foundling House, the Society for War Veterans, the Society for—” He paused to read the card. “—Widows of War Veterans.”
Jack watched the small white cards cover his desk and glanced at Maddie. “Exactly how involved are you in these endeavors?”
“Very involved,” she said with a decisive nod. “I make it a point to visit each charity twice a month.”
Jack looked back at the mounting pile of cards. Foundling houses and war widows didn’t live in the best areas of Town. Who knew what could happen to Maddie if she insisted upon visiting those places? She could be robbed or assaulted . . . or worse.
And with Bleven still a threat, he didn’t want Maddie out of his sight.
Jack’s hand skimmed over his desk, sending the cards flying. “Enough,” he told Castleigh. He stood and faced Maddie. “This is ridiculous.”
Castleigh leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, his look turning smug. “Nice beginning, Blackthorne, though ‘ridiculous’ wouldn’t have been my first choice.”
Maddie ignored her father and bent to gather some of the fluttering cards. “I know it seems like a bit much,” she admitted, “but once you get to know all the orphans and the widows, you’ll change your mind.”
“No, I won’t.” Jack pulled the cards out of her hands. “You can’t save everyone, Maddie. At the very least, you must give up your visits.”
“Exactly,” Castleigh chimed in. “Said so many times.”
“But they all need me, Jack. If I don’t help, who will?”
Jack opened his mouth to respond, but was stalled by the pleading look in Maddie’s eyes.
Castleigh was nodding. “That one always gets me, too.”
Jack rounded on his father-in-law. “Do you mind?”
“Not a’tall.” Castleigh settled deeper into his chair.
“Look, Maddie . . . ” Jack reached out and took her hand, pulling her close. “I need you now. More than all of these societies.”
“And I’ll be here for you, Jack, but you can’t ask me to give up my life’s work. This is my calling. This is what I was born to do.”
Jack shook his head. “I admire your generosity, sweetheart, but I can’t allow you to visit all of these organizations. If you want to give money, fine, but I won’t have you running about London, risking your safety to help some snot-nosed orphan who’ll probably pick your pocket, given half a chance.”
Maddie inhaled sharply and snapped her hand away from him. Castleigh shook his head. “Should have cautioned you against that one.”
Jack could tell the man was enjoying the argument. Maddie, however, was not. She was shooting daggers with her eyes. Her hands were on her hips, fists balled.
“You don’t know the first thing about my work, Jack. And if you don’t want to know, that’s fine, but don’t tell me what to do. You don’t have the right.”
“The hell I don’t. I’m your husband. I swore to protect you, and I’m bloody well going to do it.” From Bleven, from cutthroats . . . from herself, if need be.
“By locking me up and taking everything I care about away from me?” She shook her head vehemently. “I knew I shouldn’t have married you. You’re worse than he is.” She pointed to her father.
“I only wanted to do what was best for you, Madeleine,” her father said.
“And I just want to keep you safe,” Jack added, trying to keep his voice reasonable.
But Maddie was well past reasonable. “You’re trying to protect me? Jack, the day I met you, I was chased, shot at, and held at gunpoint by three thugs. I don’t think you’re one to protect me.” She rounded on her father. “And, Papa, I’m tired of you always thinking you know what’s best for me. I’m a grown woman.” With her skirts swishing, she marched toward the door. “I know what’s best for me, and it’s neither of you.”
The door slammed behind her, and Jack slumped in his chair. Across from him, Castleigh offered to refill his glass. Jack accepted the brandy, downed it, and held the snifter out for more. Outside, he heard a suspiciously bearlike noise, followed by a maid’s bloodcurdling scream, then Maddie’s soothing voice.
“If you’re going to shoot me,” Jack told his new father-in-law, “now would be a good time.”
