Free Miss Charity's Case by Jo Ann Ferguson Page A

say. Nothing in Lady Eloise’s instruction had prepared her for Lord Blackburn or his mesmerizing touch.
    â€œI would enjoy speaking with you more, Miss Stuart.”
    â€œI must see to the other guests’—”
    Again he interrupted, “Their needs will wait a while longer.” Another tune began, and he smiled. “See, there is no need to rush away now.”
    Charity drew her fingers from his. “Say what you wish, my lord. I am yours until the end of this dance.”
    â€œA delightful proposition.” When she flushed again, he said, “Now you see why I am unwelcome in this house. Your great-aunt does not appreciate my wit.”
    â€œYour wit has nothing to do with her feelings.”
    â€œTrue. She deems me a traitor to my class for spending time with my ships.”
    â€œThe lure of the sea is not easily disregarded.”
    The moonlight cascading through the door could not match the brilliance in his eyes. “Miss Stuart, you speak with uncommon insight.”
    She leaned back against the glass door and stared up at the moon through the wisps of fog wrapping the trees. “I speak only what I know.”
    When he touched the black ribbon on her wrist, he said, “You miss your father a great deal, don’t you?”
    â€œYou speak with uncommon insight.” She smiled when he did, but grew somber as she went on, “I miss Papa and the life we enjoyed in Bridgeton. So many adventures we had there.”
    â€œYou did? Were—?”
    â€œCharity!”
    Oliver kept his curse muzzled as Miss Joyce rushed over to grasp her sister’s hands. He had no chance to do more than nod a greeting before she herded Charity away.
    By Jove, there was no doubt the brunette was determined he would not speak with Charity a moment longer. Joyce Stuart had taken an instantaneous dislike to him, although he could not fathom why. They had spoken only once before tonight, and then his words had been aimed at safeguarding her in that despicable inn.
    This was frustrating! He had come here with high hopes. After the dressing-down he had endured this afternoon when he had called on friends at Whitehall, he had been even more convinced that he must speak with Charity tonight. Her words had suggested she had the answers he needed.
    But how could he persuade her to tell him?
    Even if her sister did not distrust him—and he had to give Joyce Stuart credit for being as intuitive as the rest of her family—Lady Eloise would not open her door to him unless the rest of Society was watching. He smiled. There was one way, mayhap the only way.
    Oliver crossed the room to where the Stuart sisters were speaking with Leatrice and Booth Hoyle. His nose wrinkled. What a loathsome twosome! He squared his shoulders and heard a thread snap. By Jove, it was not easy to play this role, but he knew how much depended on them believing it.
    â€œGood evening again,” he said with a nod to each of them.
    â€œYou must excuse us, my lord,” Leatrice answered as if she were their hostess. “My brother is about to escort Miss Stuart into dinner.”
    â€œWhich Miss Stuart?”
    Hoyle tried to stand taller, but the top of his ahead reached no higher than Oliver’s nose. “Miss Charity Stuart.”
    â€œI congratulate you on your good fortune.”
    Charity waited for Mr. Hoyle to respond, but he seemed abruptly tongue-tied. Into the silence, she said, “You are welcome to join us, my lord.”
    â€œI am afraid I cannot stay, but I would ask a favor of you before I go.”
    â€œCharity, we must not be late,” Joyce said, tugging on her hand.
    â€œIt will take but a moment,” Lord Blackburn replied.
    Charity asked, “What favor is it?”
    â€œThyra has expressed a desire to get to know you better, Miss Stuart. She asked me to invite you to give her a look-in at your earliest convenience.” His gaze pinned Charity in place.
    She