'Twas the Night Before Mischief Read Online Free PDF

her expectations.”
    Of course Maw did. And Maw’s expectations did not include the daughter of a shopkeeper, no matter how prominent Henry Darlington had become over the years. But Simon’s expectations, on the other hand…
    Penelope’s fists clenched so hard that her fingernails dug into her palms. She didn’t know whether she was angrier with Simon or herself. A foolish, stupid girl she was to think Simon Wilkie would actually give her everything he promised. Including his name.
    She pushed up from the chair and paced to the window. At least she had another dress in her valise, though no nightclothes since she’d expected her portmanteau to be waiting. She splashed cold water on her face from the pitcher on the table, then changed clothes and went downstairs.
    The smells of soup and bread wafted from the dining room. Her stomach rumbled again, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. And that if she paid for supper, she’d have, at most, a shilling left.
    Penelope approached the front counter, forcing herself to give the innkeeper what she hoped was a winsome smile.
    â€œMr. Harvey, I’ve been traveling since morning and haven’t had a chance to take either lunch or tea. My purse will arrive tomorrow with my portmanteau, but I’d hoped you wouldn’t mind if I—”
    He shook his head. “And if yer portmanteau dinna arrive, Miss Darlington?”
    With effort, Penelope kept her smile in place. “Oh, it will, Mr. Harvey. I assure you it will.”
    It did not. The next day the mail came and went without the delivery of Penelope’s portmanteau. Finally in the late afternoon Mr. Harvey relented and allowed her to take tea and toast, both issued with the warning that he would inform the constable if she were unable to pay her bill.
    After devouring the scant meal, Penelope paced her room again, at a loss for what to do. God strike her down if she became desperate enough to try to return to Belman Castle. Yet it would cost her at least ten shillings to pay for transport to Inverness, where she could find a telegraph office and…
    With a groan, Penelope sank onto the narrow bed.
    â€¦send a telegraph to her father in London that she was in dire straits and needed help.
    Oh, heavens. If Henry Darlington hadn’t already disowned her, surely the receipt of such a message would have him redrawing his will within an hour.
    No. She couldn’t possibly do such a thing. Her father had disliked Simon to begin with, and he’d no doubt instruct her to find her own way home.
    If she even had a home anymore.
    Penelope stood up and grabbed her cloak. No sense in wallowing over the hopelessness of her situation. Wick was a market town dependent on the herring industry, so surely she could find some form of work. Just something to earn enough money to get her out of this wretched town to Inverness, where she would be better able to determine her next step.
    â€œWhere ye be goin’, lass?” Mr. Harvey snapped as she hurried to the front door.
    â€œEr, just out to take some air, Mr. Harvey,” Penelope replied brightly. She had come to realize she was the only guest at the inn, which put her a bit at ease. At least the innkeeper couldn’t force her out on the basis of not having enough rooms available. “My valise is still in my room, should you require assurance as to my return.”
    She left before Mr. Harvey could respond. A rush of icy air blasted against her face as she went outside, and her nose filled with the smells of salt water and fish. Although it wasn’t yet three in the afternoon, twilight was already beginning to descend. A cold rain trickled from the gray sky, creating puddles of mud on the dirt roads.
    Penelope’s boots sank into the mud as she went toward the port, where fishing boats rocked in the wind and a lighthouse stood guard near the shoreline. Aside from a cat slinking over the docks