'Twas the Night Before Mischief Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Ye can afford the room?”
    â€œOf course,” Penelope replied frostily, although her heart descended yet another few inches. The remainder of her money was in her portmanteau, which was supposed to have been waiting for her at the inn. She silently cursed Simon for the hundredth time, and in a most unladylike fashion. “Please, show me to my room at once.”
    The innkeeper pushed the ledger toward her to sign, then took a key from the rack behind him and led her up the stairs to a small but clean room. The hearth was stacked with wood, and the innkeeper muttered beneath his breath as he lit the fire.
    â€œWater closet is down the hall,” he said, his eyes still narrowed with suspicion.
    Penelope drew her shoulders back and gave him a firm nod, shutting the door after him with a decisive click .
    Only after she heard his footsteps descend the stairs did she sink onto a chair by the fire and hold out her cold hands to the flames. If nothing else, at least she could be grateful for the heat of the fire.
    She removed her boots and put them closer to the flames to dry. Then she dug into her pocket and pulled out what little money she had left.
    Down went her heart. Three shillings. She couldn’t possibly get back to Inverness with three shillings. And if she paid for a night’s stay at the inn, she’d have nothing left tomorrow unless her portmanteau arrived by post.
    Surely it would. That coward Simon had sent the blasted thing off before he’d even told her he couldn’t, in fact, marry her. Penelope had been so incandescent with rage that she hadn’t wondered why he’d gone and done such a thing.
    Now, somewhat thawed and dried by the fire, she realized he’d done it to lessen the risk of her opposition. He’d sent off her portmanteau and made her travel arrangements back to Wick in the hopes that she’d storm off with the anger of a woman betrayed.
    Which is exactly what she had done.
    Penelope blinked back tears of renewed fury. There were many ways she had imagined the end to her engagement, and none of them had included being ousted from a damp, dark castle while her once-future mother-in-law pierced her with a stare so disapproving that Penelope felt as if she were being damned.
    And yet, in the center of her heart—which was still somewhere in the vicinity of her toes—she was relieved by Simon’s cowardly betrayal. Over the past week, her misgivings had grown stronger with every mile they’d traveled from London through the desolate expanse of northern Scotland and into the Orkney Islands. Then when they’d arrived at his family estate, Penelope had struggled with the notion of living there for the rest of her life, much less under the thumb of Simon’s overbearing mother.
    â€œOch.” As they stood outside the castle, Simon had smiled that beautiful smile that had once made Penelope’s breath catch in her throat. “I reckon we were a wee bit hasty in our flight, eh?”
    â€œPerhaps you were a wee bit hasty in choosing your prey,” she’d retorted.
    He looked stung. “I hadn’t thought of ye as my prey, Penelope. I did want to marry you. It’s just that my maw…” He glanced back at his mother, as if afraid she could hear him even from a distance. “I canna go against me own kin.”
    â€œThen why did you ask me to come with you?” Penelope asked, though she already knew the answer. She’d been Simon’s last hope this year to snare a woman whose family wealth might salvage the Wilkie clan’s fortunes. But the daughter of a shopkeeper was not good enough for Mrs. Wilkie.
    No. She wasn’t merely not good enough . She was just plain unacceptable.
    â€œI loved you, Penny, you ken that. And ye’d have made a good wife, if…if all’d gone as I’d hoped.” He tried to smile again, but this time it came across as a grimace. “Maw does have