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

burning to the depths of his…
    Penelope bit her lip and stared at her soup. Why did she allow her thoughts to swerve in such a direction? Why did she feel still as if she could no longer fit within her own skin, as if her hopes and desires would wither and die if she weren’t daring enough to free them? And why did freeing them mean that she also had to be reckless and foolhardy, disappointing her father and putting her family’s reputation at risk?
    Running off to elope with an entirely unsuitable, glib rogue… that had been her definition of daring? Of being alive? Certainly she’d felt more in that one moment with Darius Hall than she’d felt in the month Simon had courted her.
    Though what that discovery could possibly mean, Penelope had no idea.
    â€œIf the word daring were in your dictionary,” she said, “how would you define it?”
    â€œDaring?” Darius sounded as if the word tasted unpleasant. “That’s nothing to do with science or mechanics. It would not be in the dictionary.”
    â€œBut if it were,” Penelope persisted, “how would you define it?”
    â€œVery likely the way anyone else would. As a quality of defiance. Perhaps foolishness.”
    â€œYou don’t think it requires courage to be daring?”
    â€œCourage is a quality of fortitude and strength.” He glanced at her, his eyes keen behind his spectacles. “They are not the same thing, Miss Darlington. Make no mistake.”
    â€œI already have,” Penelope muttered.
    She ate a spoonful of soup, though she was no longer hungry. Darius concentrated on his dinner, eating with a precision of movement. Penelope caught sight of the way he held the spoon, and she thought inexplicably that his hands—large with long, adept fingers—were well suited for both fitting machine parts together and holding a pen.
    â€œYou had better eat more,” he suggested, glancing at her bowl. “We’ve a long way to travel tomorrow, if we intend to reach Inverness by Thursday.”
    Penelope suppressed irritation. Darius simply assumed that she would accompany him back to London, just as she’d returned to Darlington’s Confectionery with him all those years ago. He thought she was the same obedient, dutiful girl she’d always been.
    Perhaps, Penelope thought with resignation as they finished their supper, she was. At the very least, she was forced to admit that she was not at all successful at mutiny.

Chapter Four
    D aring. Courage. Recklessness.
    No, none of those words would appear in the Scientific and Literary Treasury , but they meant something to Penelope Darlington. Words like that were the reason she’d tried to elope with Simon Wilkie.
    Relief. That was what Darius felt at the knowledge that she had not succeeded.
    He pulled open the door of the post chaise and extended a hand to help Penelope inside. She grasped his hand without hesitation, her gloved fingers both small and strong nestled in his palm.
    She paused on the step and looked into the coach. Folded carriage rugs and several cushions lay atop one of the benches, and heated bricks on the floor emitted a dry warmth. A basket on the opposite bench held a day’s worth of cheese, fruit, bread, and a flagon of ale. Darius was suddenly worried he’d forgotten something.
    â€œIs there anything else you require?” he asked.
    â€œOh.” Penelope shook her head. “No. I…this is all quite elaborate for a woman who has run off and scandalized her family.”
    â€œAnd as long as I return you safely to your father before the eighteenth, there will be no harm done.”
    She didn’t look as if she believed him at all. Darius stepped back to have a word with the driver, Sam, who was checking the bridles of the two horses. They conferred about the route to Inverness before Sam climbed onto one of the horses and Darius returned to the carriage.
    Whiterow. Northfield.