Miss Charity's Case Read Online Free Page A

be so willing as I to overlook the devastation it could create when it cuts through pretense and hypocrisy.” Without a pause, he added, “Good evening to you, Miss Stuart. I hope you have a pleasant and uneventful journey to London.”
    Oliver watched as Miss Stuart hurried up the stairs. What an innocent! She spoke the truth before she considered the consequences. He wondered how she would fare in London. A gentlewoman of her class would not be going into service. A companion? What a waste, for she possessed too few years to spend the rest moldering in silence in a corner. The Season? That seemed unlikely, but, if Miss Stuart were pitchforked into the closed circle of the ton , he doubted she would emerge with that charming naïveté intact.
    He smiled wryly. He had grown exceedingly cynical of late. He had many friends among the Polite World, and he enjoyed their company during his brief sojourns in Town. Brief. Blast, but he had not anticipated this journey tonight. Things must be growing more heated on the continent, for he had been home a mere fortnight before this request had arrived on his doorstep. Yet this was the life he loved, filled with adventure and a respite from the boredom of the Season. He had spent too many evenings evading the grasp of some marriage-minded miss and her mother. Now he wished to enjoy the life he had chosen and worked hard to gain.
    Going out onto the narrow porch on the side of the inn, where rain spit fitfully, Oliver set his hat on his head. His smile vanished when he saw a slim shadow huddled by the narrow steps. The collection of feathers on the woman’s hat implied she was of a class higher than the serving lasses who had flirted with him during supper. If she was not one of the inn’s wenches, she must be …
    â€œMiss Stuart?”
    â€œI am right here. I …” The young woman’s voice faded as she turned toward him with a look first of expectation, then of dismay.
    Even in the dim light from the inn, Oliver could see the resemblance between this Miss Stuart and the one he had spoken with only moments ago. He guessed this one was younger by a handful of years, and her hair was nearly black. Yet the curve of her chin and high cheekbones marked them as sisters.
    â€œMiss Stuart,” he said softly, although a score of questions bounded through his head, “your sister is nearly in high fidgets over concern for you. It is not my place to be an addle-plot, but allow me to warn you—as I did her—that you should avoid being alone at The King’s Heart Inn.”
    â€œWho are you?”
    â€œOliver Blackburn.” He tipped his hat and bowed to her. Raising his head, he struggled not to frown. What was this Miss Stuart doing here on the porch when her sister had expected her to be waiting in their room above? Reminding himself that the business of the sisters was not his, especially when nothing was going as it should tonight, he said, “Your sister was wise to take my recommendation and seek the safety of your room. May I suggest that you do the same before you find yourself in a most unpleasant situation?”
    Taking a step backward toward the door, Miss Stuart said, “You are quite right. Thank you for your kindness.”
    â€œIf you were waiting to speak to someone, I would be glad to see that the message is delivered.”
    â€œThank you, but no. I wished only to enjoy a bit of fresh air before I retired. The air is so close inside.”
    Oliver held the door open for her and did not move as she slipped past him to follow her sister’s path up the stairs. Miss Stuart needed to learn more prudence. Taking the air in such a low place as this tavern could risk one’s well-being. He suspected the elder Miss Stuart would tell her sister that in short order.
    He frowned. As closely as the elder Miss Stuart had been watching the door, he would have guessed she had warned her sister to take care. Someone