Miss Charity's Case by Jo Ann Ferguson

Author:Jo Ann Ferguson
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504009096
Publisher: Open Road Distribution

Ten

Oliver read the dispatch on his desk again, then tossed it aside. The order was clear. Find what had been lost with no delay. Too much had been sacrificed. A simple order, if only he had an idea where to look.

Striding out onto the deck of his ship, he ignored the thunder of hammers and the curses of the workmen. He walked to the railing and looked down into the dirty water of the Thames. It was as clouded as his head.

He smiled wryly as he kneaded his brow. Giving nature a fillip last night had been unwise. Now he was left with an aching head that had more to do with his problems than the wine. Even as he had been giving the last bottle a black eye, he had been unable to forget the dressing-down he had received from Thyra last night.

She had been right. He had acted beastly, not giving Charity a chance to explain. Yet he could not explain either. He had thought it wise to take the opportunity last evening had presented to kill their friendship as surely as his contact had been killed. It was his misfortune that he rued one loss as much as the other.

“Oliver, are you there?”

He pushed himself away from the railing and strode to the other side of the ship. On the quay a familiar form was swathed in light blue. “Charity! What are you doing here?” He hurried down the plank to assist her up onto the deck. “Are you alone?”

“I had Lady Eloise’s coachmen bring me.” She twisted the ribbons of her reticule. “Oliver, I came to ask you to forgive me.”

“Impossible!”

Her face paled. “I am so sorry. Please reconsider because I need your help so much.”

He smiled as he unlaced the ribbons from her fingers. “You cannot apologize, for I am the one who should apologize. I should have spoken with Thyra before I accused you of being heartless.”

“You did only as a friend should.”

“As you did, I have been told.” He led her along the deck. Chuckling as her feet fought the gently swaying boards, he said, “You are truly a landswoman, Charity.”

She sat on a crate and gripped its sides. “Will you help me?”

“With Thyra and Rimsbury?”

“With Joyce.” She closed her eyes, then, squaring her shoulders, said, “My sister is missing.”

“I had heard—”

“Lady Eloise’s out-and-outers. Oliver, Joyce has vanished.”

He pulled up another crate and sat, facing her. He could read terror in her eyes. “Abducted?”

“No!” She pressed her hands to her breast. “Do not suggest the situation is even more horrible than it is. Joyce has gone to a gentleman she trusts.”

“Who?”

“I am not sure.”

He took a deep breath. He did not need this complication when he had other concerns, but he could not turn Charity away when she had braved the worst the city had to offer to come here to gain his help. “Have you checked with Monthorpe? The young dolt was all a-lather about your sister. I suspected he would dangle after her all Season, if he could not convince her to accept his suit posthaste.

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