The Red Pearl Read Online Free PDF Page A

his eyes were friendly behind his spectacles. “They were my late wife’s. Please, help yourself.” He turned and departed, closing the door to grant her privacy.
    Antonia arose from the bed and glanced around. The chamber was a pigsty, all sorts of charts and papers and what looked like unassembled parts scattered about the floor. Her eyes rested upon a stack of gowns atop the dresser. These had belonged to Robin’s mother?
    She sifted through them. Mrs. Watkins had apparently been fond of blue, each garment possessing some shade of the color. She selected a soft cotton number, a white top sewn with azure skirts. Pulling off her salmon robes, Antonia examined her forearm. She was surprised to discover a series of hives sprouting there, though they’d been coated in a soothing paste. She wondered how it got there.
    Mrs. Watkins’s dress fit her well. It was just a bit baggy at the waist, but that was easily corrected with an adjustable sash. With her fingers, she combed out her hair, desiring a mirror in which to examine herself. Exiting the room in search of one, she instead found Dr. Watkins reclining in an armchair with a stack of newspapers.
    He peeked above the pages, and his expression grew sentimental. “Ah.” He grinned sadly. “That was one of her favorites.”
    Antonia looked down, feeling guilty for evoking the widower’s sorrow.
    But he only set the paper aside. “And for that matter, you may keep it, child.”
    She was touched. “How kind of you.”
    The doctor was about to respond when they were interrupted by noisy footfalls, accompanied by petulant grumbling. “You need a new razor, Thad. That dull blade of yours only sliced me half-a-dozen times…”
    A young man entered the room, his auburn hair damp and combed neatly back, his face—but for a few squares of gauze at his throat and lip—cleanly shaven. Antonia’s eyes widened. Why, it was Robin.
    All at once, the room became stifling. Antonia felt oddly uncomfortable, yet could not peel her gaze away. The man looked almost a decade younger without a beard. And…well, he was handsome. Remarkably so.
    She never would have guessed.
    Robin cleared his throat, looking just as surprised by her appearance. For a moment, neither spoke.
    “Well,” Dr. Watkins folded his hands together, “now that your friend is awake, Rob, care to introduce us?”
    Robin blinked, and Antonia looked away, begging her pulse to steady. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? He’d only shaved, for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t as though a smooth face would change that impossible personality of his, or the fact that he was forcing her on his map hunt against her will.
    “Erm. Thad, this is my…” Robin seemed to be struggling with what to call her. At last, he settled with, “This is Annie. I mean, Antonia Korelli.”
    She inclined her head.
    “Annie, this is my father, Thad…”
    “We’ve met,” she informed Robin, for some reason unable to look him in the eye. “But why do you call your father by his first name?”
    Robin shrugged. “I always have.”
    Dr. Watkins gave an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid we’re not the most conventional family.”
    “Nor the most conventional people.” Robin made his way to the kitchen. “Which is probably why there’s no food here.” He opened an empty cabinet, and looked pointedly at his father. “What’ve you been living off of? Old cigars?”
    His father waved him off. “There’s a loaf in the breadbox.”
    “Oh, a loaf.” Robin crossed his arms. “Thank goodness, I thought we were all going to starve.”
    “And I’ve some potatoes,” his father added sternly. “Why do you think only of food? You are like a teenaged boy.” He rose to his feet. “Now, come. There’s something I’d like to show you in the shed.”
    Robin groaned dramatically.
    “Miss Korelli can join us.” Hopeful, Dr. Watkins beckoned her, and Antonia stepped forward.
    “Look, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fascinating,”