'Twas the Night Before Mischief by Nina Rowan Read Free Book Online

pulled on her cloak as they descended the stairs. The wintry air of the sea iced against them as they walked through the dirt roads toward the center of town. Aside from a few pedestrians and a dog pawing for scraps, the place seemed as deserted as ever. The restaurant was gloomy but warm, with a fire burning in the hearth and clusters of trestle tables.
    After ordering soup and bread, as well as a plate of salted herring that smelled like a swamp, Penelope eyed Darius across the table. “Why did you follow me?”
    His big shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Your father has always been a friend to my family, and to me. I saw no reason he should abandon his work and the preparations for his royal warrant celebration to come and fetch you.”
    Penelope couldn’t help wondering what would have happened if Darius had not offered to “fetch her.” Would her father have come himself or ignored her flight entirely?
    â€œYou’re fortunate his patrons and friends believe you’re visiting your aunt in Bristol,” Darius remarked. “Though you’d best hope that Mr. Wilkie doesn’t have cause to ruin your name.”
    Penelope groaned inwardly. Simon had been the one to abandon her, but if he returned to London, he could very well spread rumors about her in the hopes of deflecting her own accusations. He’d consider it better to attack her rather than defend himself.
    â€œYou might as well say it,” she muttered. “I’m a complete fool.”
    â€œWe’ve all made mistakes,” Darius replied mildly.
    Penelope rather doubted that about him.
    â€œWhat mistakes have you made?” she asked.
    She was unsurprised when he didn’t respond, because of course his mistakes—if he’d ever made any—would be along the lines of using the wrong fork at supper.
    At the very least, however, Penelope took a measure of comfort in the notion that this was her first mistake. Up until now, she’d been a paragon of obedience. And it would certainly be her last mistake, too, because once back in London and after having made amends, she would have to become…Penelope the Paragon again.
    And that, she told herself firmly, was as it should be. She should be grateful she even had the opportunity to rectify her error. Grateful that Darius Hall had come to rescue…er, retrieve her.
    â€œAre you still working on your dictionary, Mr. Hall?” she asked.
    â€œYes. It’s not due for another year, and each term requires precise research.”
    â€œWhat sort of terms?”
    â€œThose used in medicine, zoology, botany, anatomy, among other areas of science.” He nodded his thanks to the server as she placed more bread in front of them. “Some political, historical, and legal terms that are useful for common knowledge.”
    A dictionary. Writing such a tome was the perfect occupation for a man who seemed as contained as a closed book. Though he was the most composed man she had ever encountered, Penelope could almost see the thoughts burning behind his sharp, intelligent eyes. He was like a dictionary himself, filled with definitions and cryptic passages. In Latin, no less. And one could understand those thoughts only if they had the knowledge—and the desire—to translate them.
    Which Penelope most certainly did not.
    She doubted words like joy and love were included among Darius Hall’s definitions of plant parts and medicine. A man like him wouldn’t bother himself with trying to define emotions. Such a task belonged to poets, not scientists.
    Still, for that one moment when Penelope had experienced Darius’s…emotion in the form of that passionate kiss, she’d been struck hard by the energy crackling through him, the way his eyes had darkened with intensity in the instant before he’d pressed his mouth to hers. And, oh, heavens, that heat flowing from him into her made her think he had fire crackling and