Maddie swung back around.
“What is it?” Ashley said. “You look like Hamlet after he saw the ghost of his father.”
Maddie felt a hysterical giggle well up inside. If her father went looking for her now, she’d be the one who ended up a ghost. She had to go.
Now.
Taking her cousin by the shoulders, Maddie pushed Ashley toward the door. “Thank you for your concern. I’ll explain everything later.”
But Ashley was not looking at her. She was looking past her, out the window.
The ocean floor dropped out from under Maddie.
“Who is that man?” Ashley pointed a finger, and Maddie didn’t have to turn to know what her cousin saw. Mr. Dover was tall, almost too tall for his own body. He always seemed to have too many arms and legs and never knew what to do with them. He was young, not yet thirty, but he wore small spectacles over his brown eyes. At least she thought his eyes were brown. She hadn’t looked all that closely.
“Man?” Maddie said with exaggerated innocence. “I don’t see a man.”
Rigid disapproval on her face, Ashley took her by the shoulders and turned her around. She pointed to the window, where Mr. Dover was indeed peering in. “That man.”
“I have no idea,” Maddie said.
Mr. Dover broke into a grin and waved at her. Ashley sighed and released her. “You are a horrible liar, Madeleine Fullbright.”
Ashley started for the window, and Maddie reached for her. Her hand closed on thin air. “Ashley!”
Her cousin was already at the windows, pushing another open. She leaned out, resting her palms on the casement, and said, “Hello. Are you looking for Lady Madeleine?”
Mr. Dover removed his hat, a scuffed beaver that looked like it had been run over by a carriage. Knowing how clumsy Dover could be, Maddie rather thought it had.
“Yes, miss.” He pulled out a pocket watch. “We have an appointment.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. Why didn’t the man just announce it in Hanover Square? Hear ye, hear ye: Lady Madeleine and Mr. Dover elope to Gretna Green!
“An appointment?” Ashley said, her voice oozing sweetness. “May I ask the nature of this appointment?”
Mr. Dover considered, and Maddie waved her hands wildly behind Ashley’s back.
“Lady Madeleine,” Ashley said without turning around, “please refrain from making hand signals to Mister . . . ?”
“Dover,” he supplied.
Maddie threw her hands down in frustration. “Ah, Mr. Dover.”
Maddie could hear Ashley smiling and knew the elopement was doomed. No man could resist one of Ashley’s smiles. She closed her eyes and waited for the rising tide to surge over her head.
“I’d rather not discuss the nature of the appointment with you, miss,” Mr. Dover said, and Maddie gratefully clutched hold of this rescue boat. “May I speak with Lady Madeleine?”
“Certainly.” Ashley’s smile was still in place, but it was tight at the corners. “One moment.”
Ashley left the window and advanced on Maddie, who tried to move past her. But Ashley blocked her way, backing her into a corner. “Now, Ashley”—Maddie gave Dover a look pleading for patience—“it’s not what you think.”
Ashley raised one brow. “How do you know what I think?”
“Good point,” Maddie conceded. “Um, what do you think?”
Ashley stomped to Lord Westman’s desk, yanked the valise out from under it, and glared at Maddie. “I think you’re about to run away with Mr. Dover.”
Maddie swallowed. “Oh, then I suppose it is pretty much what you think.”
