Beneath a Waning Moon: A Duo of Gothic Romances Read Online Free PDF

where vampires might be waiting with swords. This was a civilized dinner party with Murphy’s mate, his new business partner, and a woman who ran around in her garden in the middle of the night quoting morbid poetry.
    “Feck me,” Tom muttered as he disembarked from the carriage. Murphy and Anne were waiting at the foot of the stairs. Declan—the sorry little ninny—had begged off.
    Anne scowled. “You absolutely must not use language like that in front of Miss Shaw.”
    “She might like it,” Tom said. “You’d be surprised at the ladies who do.”
    Murphy covered a smile with cough and put his arm out for Anne. “Come now, Anne. Tom knows how to speak with a lady.”
    “No, I don’t.”
    “And he’ll even use a knife and fork when it’s necessary,” Murphy said.
    “I promise not to stab anyone unless they try to steal my food,” Tom added.
    Anne shook her head. “I don’t know why I put up with you scoundrels.”
    Murphy leaned closer to his mate and whispered something that would have made Tom blush if he could.
    “Oh,” Anne said in a slightly higher voice. “Yes, that’s why. Well, God help Miss Shaw anyway if she likes you, Tom. I know you’re as bad as this one, if not worse.”
    “Not our Tom,” Murphy said. “He’s the boring, responsible brother.”
    “I’d punch you, boss, but I might bust my seams,” Tom said. “Come on now. Let’s stop stalling.” He could already see the butler waiting at the door.
    They walked up the ruthlessly neat steps to the redbrick town house with tall glowing windows. Thank heaven the sun was setting earlier this time of year, otherwise they’d have to make excuses about the dinner hour.
    The butler took Tom’s hat and overcoat at the door before he led him, Murphy, and Anne back to the drawing room and announced them.
    A rush of voices surrounded them, but Tom’s eyes found his target immediately. She was standing awkwardly near the bookcases, next to an older woman who looked like a companion. He could see a hastily set-aside book on the small table next to the lamp. Josephine Shaw was brushing at her skirts and slouching slightly, as if trying to conceal her height.
    “And Mr. Murphy”—Tom blinked when he realized Shaw was speaking to him—“allow me to introduce you to my only daughter, Miss Josephine Shaw.”
    Tom stepped toward her.
    Girls are caterpillars…
    No girl here, but Tom thought he saw the caterpillar. Miss Shaw was… not pretty, though he thought she might be what some would call handsome. What had suited the darkness and moonlight appeared awkward in the artificial light of the drawing room. Her skin was pale, not luminous. Her hair was mouse-brown and tied back in a complicated, heavy knot. Her height and dramatic features were not flattered by the fashions she’d been buttoned into. But her eyes…
    Too big for her face. Too dark. Too wide. Too… much.
    Far too much for a very proper drawing room.
    Tom thought her eyes might trap him if he wasn’t careful.
    “Miss Shaw.” He bowed respectfully. “A pleasure to meet you.”
    Wake up, caterpillar.
    She smiled politely and inclined her head, her shoulders still bent. Tom watched her ink-stained hand as he straightened, imagining what the skin would feel like in his rough palm. He stretched his shoulders back. Those large, dark eyes that had been hovering somewhere around his cravat rose and kept rising to meet his own gaze.
    “I find,” he said quietly, “that it’s quite useless to apologize for how tall the good Lord made me.”
    She blinked. “Pardon me, sir?”
    He liked her voice even more when it wasn’t whispered in a garden. And Anne would probably thrash him for it, but he’d say it anyway. “No need to slouch, Miss Shaw. In my opinion, there’s nothing grander than a tall woman.”
    Miss Shaw blinked again. Then her face lit with a smile, she threw back her shoulders and let out a laugh as improper as dancing in the garden at midnight.
    The laugh