The Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates #1 Read Online Free PDF

Miss Greyson. She found a comfortable bit of wall to lean against near the carriage door, and she set her bag down on the floor beside her. She was happy to have the gargoyle as a traveling companion, but he did grow awfully heavy after a while.
    To pass the time while they waited for the train to stop, Hilary read to the gargoyle from Treasure Island . “‘Though I had lived by the shore all my life,’” she read, “‘I seemed never to have been near the sea till then. The smell of tar and salt was something new. I saw the most wonderful figureheads, that had all been far over the ocean.’” She glanced up to make sure Miss Greyson wasn’t approaching. “‘And I was going to sea myself; to sea in a schooner . . . bound for an unknown island, and to seek for buried treasures!’”
    The carriage door swung open. Hilary stuffed the book in her bag and pulled the canvas over the gargoyle’s ears as the two gentlemen who had passed her before entered the corridor. They were elegantly dressed, as though they had set out for the opera and accidentally boarded a train instead. Hilary guessed they were members of High Society, though one of the gentlemen—really more of a boy, now that Hilary got a better look at him—kept tripping over his trousers, which covered his feet and a good deal of the floor below. His black hair fell nearly to his collar, and he looked about as comfortable in his suit as Hilary felt in her uniform from Miss Pimm’s.
    The other gentleman looked a bit older and didn’t trip nearly as often. He carried a narrow black case under one arm, and he flipped a coin in the air as he walked, catching it again in his gloved hand after every toss. He nodded to Hilary. Then he paused for a moment, and the coin fell to the floor.
    â€œExcuse me,” said the elegant gentleman, “but have we met before?”
    Hilary shook her head. Maybe this man had attended a ball at Westfield House—her mother was always planning the next ball or cleaning up from the last one—but Hilary made a point of avoiding her parents’ social events whenever she could. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying desperately to remember the guidelines for discouraging unwanted company in A Young Lady’s Guide to Augustan Society . “I don’t believe I know you.”
    â€œWell, thank goodness we’ve met at last.” The man bowed low to retrieve his coin, tucked it away in his pocket, and stuck out a gloved hand. “It’s a pleasure. The name’s Smith. And this”—he gestured to the boy—“is my ward, Charlie.”
    Hilary shook Mr. Smith’s hand as quickly as possible. She tried to shake the boy’s hand, too, but he hung back behind Mr. Smith. “It’s nice to meet you both,” she said.
    She hoped that that would be the end of it—that Mr. Smith and his ward would return to their compartment and discuss lawn bowling, or top hats, or whatever it was that elegant gentlemen discussed—but they seemed intent on staying exactly where they were. The boy named Charlie studied Hilary for a moment; then his eyes grew wide, and he elbowed Mr. Smith. “I think she’s a finishing-school girl,” he said. He did not sound at all pleased about it. “Just look at her cardigan.”
    Hilary sighed and picked up her bag. If the elegant gentlemen were going to insist on standing in her way, perhaps they could make themselves useful. “Can you tell me where this train stops next? I don’t want to miss my station.”
    â€œOh, you needn’t worry about that,” said Mr. Smith. “We’re on a direct route, you see. Queensport to Pemberton, with no stops in between. We’ll be in Pemberton soon enough, I expect.”
    Hilary stared at him. “But I’ve got to get off the train! I can’t go to Pemberton!” Pemberton meant Miss Pimm’s,