Heirs of Acadia - 02 - The Innocent Libertine Read Free

walk?”
    “We’re not here for idle chatter,” Derrick admonished. “Or have you already forgotten your duty, as you call it?” Before Abigail could respond, he stomped away.
    But once they were well underway and handing out Gospel leaflets to all who passed, Derrick sidled up alongside Abigail. “Straight up, now. Why is it that you venture down Soho way?”
    She countered with a question of her own. “Does the Soho Square Church now claim all this territory as its own?”
    “Of course not. Don’t be silly.”
    “Are you so successful at turning the dark tide that you do not need help?”
    “That’s not what I’m about and well you know it.” He gestured at her form. “Just look at you. Fancy silk dress, hair all nice as you please, smelling of some scent what cost more than any of these folks are like to see in a month of hard labor.”
    “The dress is linen and old,” Abigail defended. “And the only thing I smell of is soap.”
    But Derrick was not to be put off so easily. “You’re good at reaching out to folks, I’ll give you that. But you don’t belong in these parts. Don’t look at me that way. You know it as well as I do.” He tucked a folded page into the pocket of a passing gentleman, one doing his best to ignore them entirely. The man started to protest, then took one good look at Derrick’s form and hurried away. Derrick went on, “All I’m asking is why you come at all.”
    “You sound as bad as Tyler Brock.”
    “Who?”
    “Never mind.”
    “Is that a proper sort of answer to a proper sort of question?”
    Abigail sighed. The truth was simple. Life at home bored her to distraction. She felt coddled and imprisoned. It mattered little that her cell was lined with striped wallpaper and that sunlight spilled over the high elms of Grosvenor Square. Nor that her parents loved her and wished for her the best that life could bring. They sought to protect her. She had heard that word so often she could scream. Protect . It sounded so nice in their mouths. They only wished to protect her from what she could not understand. How on earth was she to learn about life so long as she was trapped within these bonds of silk and velvet?
    “Miss Abigail?”
    Derrick said he wanted the truth. The truth was she yearned for adventure and she yearned to do good. To be a missionary in the darkest depths of Africa would satisfy both longings. She yearned to set out upon the high seas. She yearned, oh, how she yearned!
    “Well, if that question is so difficult, answer me this. Why do you dress for these occasions as you would for the admiral’s table?”
    She was so caught up in her internal longings that she spoke without conscious thought. “It is the only way my parents would allow me to escape for an evening.”
    “And where do they think you are this night?”
    “At a Drury Lane concert with Nora and her family.”
    Derrick flashed her a hard look but kept his tone level. “So you lie to your kith and kin and still claim to do the Lord’s work?”
    “I didn’t lie. Well, not precisely. I . . . I allowed them to think thusly.”
    “A falsehood by any other name is still an abomination, lass.” It was Derrick’s turn to sigh. “What would happen if I went and addressed my concerns to your father directly?”
    Abigail froze. “You wouldn’t!”
    Derrick scuffed the toe of his boot across the rough stones. “Perhaps I should. But it’s not my nature to meddle in others’ homes and affairs.”
    She felt weak with relief. Her father would be mortified. And her mother would be so disappointed. There would be further restrictions, holding her fast in their protective embrace until she utterly choked with despair. “Please don’t,” she said weakly.
    “I should,” Derrick repeated. “But I’ll hold hard so long as you do one thing for me.”
    “Which is?”
    “Never walk Soho’s streets alone again. Always come first to the church. Always venture out with a group of us who’ve