'Twas the Night Before Mischief

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Book: Read 'Twas the Night Before Mischief for Free Online
Authors: Nina Rowan
Penelope devoured half of the meal and wrapped the rest in newspaper to save for later.
    The seamstress had no work for her the next day, so Penelope inquired at the fishmonger’s and the tavern. The owners of both establishments declined her offer, and Penelope soon found herself wishing that it were the proper season for herring fishing. She imagined she’d be quite good at scaling fish with a sharp knife, especially if she imagined the fish was Simon Wilkie.
    Penelope returned to the inn, where Mr. Harvey was standing behind the counter. She found an odd sort of comfort in the fact that the innkeeper was always there .
    Not unlike her father. She always knew where to find him.
    â€œMr. Harvey, I need your help.”
    She tried not to sound desperate, but of course she did because, frankly, she was . And her heart pounded with fear that Mr. Harvey would cast her onto the street once he learned that she had very little money and even less hope that her portmanteau would ever arrive.
    Mr. Harvey studied her with his pale eyes, his pen poised above his ledger. “What sort of help?”
    â€œI…I have only a few shillings, sir, and I’ve little hope of ever seeing my portmanteau again. And I must get to Inverness. Do you know of a way I might be able to find transport there?”
    He frowned. “Ye dinna think ye can leave without paying yer bill?”
    Penelope swallowed. “Er, I assure you I will send payment as soon as—”
    Mr. Harvey barked out a laugh. “I assure ye , lass, that I’ll send the constable after ye if ye so much as try ta leave Wick without paying me what ye owe. Which amounts ta”—he checked his ledger—“twelve shillings, thrupenny.”
    Penelope’s heart went on its downward spiral again. “I don’t suppose there is a telegraph office in Wick?”
    â€œThe closest telegraph office is in Inverness.”
    Of course it was. And yet she couldn’t send a telegraph if she couldn’t even get there. She tightened her hands on the three shillings in her pocket, then put them on the counter.
    â€œThat’s all I have to pay for the room at the moment, Mr. Harvey. I need to send a telegraph to my father in London. If I don’t, I’m afraid you’ll have to turn me over to the authorities. Perhaps they’ll at least contact my father on my behalf, though I admit to rather dreading the notion of being arrested.”
    As if that wouldn’t give Henry Darlington more of an apoplectic fit than he was already experiencing.
    Mr. Harvey looked at the three tarnished coins, then back to Penelope. He sighed and put his pen down.
    â€œTuesdays and Thursdays, the mail coach goes through from Thurso back ta Inverness. If’n ye want to send a message, I’ll convey it ta the driver and ask that he bring it to the telegraph office upon his arrival.”
    â€œOh, that’s terribly kind of you. I don’t suppose I could accompany…” Penelope’s voice died as she saw his mouth tighten. “No, of course not. Thursday.”
    She hoped that meant he would allow her to stay for the next two days, at least. Perhaps by then she could earn enough money actually to send a telegraph begging her father for help. As discouraging as that would be, Penelope simply had no idea what else to do.

Chapter Three
    P enelope swept the last of the dust from the floor and set the broom aside. She rested her hands on her hips as she surveyed the dining room, which looked more inviting now that she’d mended the curtains, dusted, rearranged the tables and chairs, and put a bowl of apples and pears on the sideboard. She had also convinced Mr. Harvey to procure a few boughs of holly and ivy, which she had arranged around the front counter. In return for her assistance, he’d agreed to pay to have her telegraph sent.
    â€œI thought ye dinna like Christmas,” he said, peering at her with those narrow

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