Free My Favorite Thief by Karyn Monk

summer every year,” Annabelle explained. “While we’re here we usually stay together at our parents’ home.”
    â€œAnd since I’m on a break from my studies at the moment, I convinced Simon that we should go with them, so we could see how Charlotte was making out with her new refuge house,” Jamie added.
    â€œThis dreadful attention is sure to hurt us,” Charlotte lamented. “It’s been hard enough to get people to donate their money to keep the house going.”
    Annie frowned. “But ye’re rich, ain’t ye? I mean, what with your father bein’ a marquess an’ all.”
    â€œMy parents have some wealth,” Charlotte allowed, “and they have been extremely generous in helping me set up this house. They paid for the lease and gave me money to buy furnishings, but I assured them that I could raise the funds to run it myself, so I wouldn’t forever be relying on their charity. I thought if I could just make the wealthy aware of the terrible suffering of London’s poor women and children, they would gladly want to help them.”
    â€œThen ye found out most rich folk would flay a flea for his skin,” Eunice observed contemptuously, entering the room bearing an enormous tray of tea, cheese, and oatcakes.
    â€œThey dinna mind spendin’ on themselves,” Doreen snorted, carrying another tray filled with cups and saucers. “ ’Tis only when it comes to others that they suddenly canna recall where they put their wallets.”
    â€œNever mind, lass, there’s as good fish in the sea as ever come out of it,” Oliver finished philosophically. “We just need to get ye tossin’ yer net out more.”
    â€œI had hoped to get some support at Lord Chadwick’s dinner last night,” Charlotte reflected. “I thought it would be a good opportunity to talk about the work we are doing here, and entice people to donate their money. Unfortunately, I never got the chance.”
    â€œMaybe you got something better out of it then just a couple of donations,” Annabelle mused. “After all, last night most of London had no idea who you are.”
    â€œYou’re right, Annabelle,” agreed Grace. “After reading the papers this morning, almost everyone in London knows that Miss Charlotte Kent was abducted last night by the infamous Dark Shadow.”
    â€œAnd until this evening’s papers are printed, everyone will be speculating whether you’re going to be found alive or dead,” added Simon, helping himself to one of Eunice’s oatcakes. “You’re a celebrity.”
    â€œNot just to the nobs, neither,” Annie pointed out. “My friends can’t read, but they can sure talk, an’ nothin’ takes their fancy better than a good sneak job or murder.”
    â€œI don’t see how my sudden celebrity is going to help us.” Charlotte disliked intensely the idea that so much attention was suddenly upon her. “Society doesn’t like to hear about the problems of the poor, unless you’re asking them to give to something safe and respectable and established, like a church or a hospital. When I ask people to make a donation so I can help unfortunate women and children get off the streets and make a new life, they lecture me on how those women and children are born lacking morality, and say I shouldn’t be associating with such people.”
    â€œIt’s them that ye shouldna be associatin’ with,” Eunice huffed angrily.
    â€œI know those swells.” Annie’s cheeks were flushed with indignation. “All high and mighty in their fine traps, lookin’ down at ye like ye was some nasty bug what crawled out from under a rock—but give ’em half a chance and they is more than willin’ to grab a feel or have a snatch—”
    â€œHere now!” Oliver scowled, but his voice was gentle as he reminded her,