It was late, the streets bare except for an occasional carriage, its wealthy owners returning from private parties or some other form of entertainment not available to most. Oliver Hart had attended a few, crammed with high-ranking British officers and the Loyalists who wanted to ensure they treated their occupiers well, assuming a new day had dawned. But Oliver Hart was a private man, and he preferred to be alone. These eccentricities made him mismatched for the social circuit and, a few weeks after the British arrived, he was no longer part of it.
Even when he did attend, depending on who hosted, he sometimes went alone. Many looked down upon Missy Malone, daughter to a carriage builder. If she wasn’t with him, the inevitable matchmaking began, and well-meaning partygoers would try to f
