CHAPTER 3
With caution, Evelina raised her left foot from the carriage bearings and pivoted to face the man. "I apologize, but it appears that I no longer require your services."
"You... you won't require them? Was someone from the Earl's party dispatched to collect you after all?" asked the man.
"No, he was not," responded Evelina briskly.
"Then why are you leaving? Allow me to stress that this road is a perilous place to be marooned at this hour, most of all for a beauty such as yourself," the man said.
"In that case, I am relieved to be more than just a pretty face. I detected an ulterior motive concealed within your previous tone. Nine pence for a ride?! That is an exorbitant fee," Evelina retorted, her words laced with sarcasm.
For a minute or two, the man lingered, considering her pointed accusation.
The man sniffed indignantly, "Listen here! Does it truly matter if I charge you nine pence or twenty? Recall, it was you who boasted of having a wealthy relative. The man you mention as your uncle, Lord Huxley, is not exactly a paragon of virtue. When one has resided in the ton as long as I have, you wouldn't jump to condemn me for taking advantage of your circumstances."
"I see," Evelina replied weakly, her head dipping down. "Please continue."
"Absolutely. Who in this ton is ignorant of how tight-fisted that man can be? If only he contributed more to charity and the betterment of society, I would not have taken such a harsh tone with you when you spoke of being related to him," the man explained.
If there was a single notion that Evelina was certain of, it was that her father, the Earl of Longdale, had always been a benevolent man who had contributed significantly to society, both locally and beyond. In contrast, the man beside her was plainly filled with malice towards her family.
Evelina peeked down and saw that her hand was balled into a fist. Her fingernails pierced through her skin, but she refused to snap. Exhaling forcefully, she said, "You have expressed a lot of opinions. It would be imprudent of me to trust you to transport me to my uncle's abode."
"My apologies, milady," the man began to protest.
"Leave. Now," Evelina interrupted, her tone unwavering.
She watched as the man shut the carriage gate before returning to his position on the driver's bench.
"Your loss, not mine," the man muttered dismissively before departing.
Left alone, Evelina's composure faltered, and she seemed to be on the verge of tears.
Now, she was certainly stranded, and her only recourse was to trek back to the brothel and hopefully have a civil discussion with the man previously met, in the event that he had already pilfered her purse.
With her head held high and her shoulders squared, she initiated the journey towards the Red Light District.
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