Her Dark Curiosity Read Online Free Page A

tendencies . . .
    . . . well, with a father like hers . . .
    Itch, itch, itch. But I forced myself to turn away. The professor wanted to prove I could be a respectable young lady despite who my father had been. The only problem was, being respectable wasn’t nearly as second nature as I had thought it would be.
    I turned my back on them, facing the frost-covered wall of the greenhouse, beyond which I could make out the shadowy shapes of falling snow. As I watched, a black police carriage pulled up outside. My breath froze. Ever since Scotland Yard officers had arrested me in response to Dr. Hasting’s accusations, I’d been jumpy around policemen.
    All that is behind you, I reassured myself.
    But the carriage stopped, and a handsome officer perhaps ten years my senior climbed out, and through the glass panes dripping with condensation, he looked directly at me.
    I TURNED TOWARD THE sprays of ferns, Sir Danvers forgotten, thoughts racing. If this was Father’s island, I could disappear into those vines with silent steps I’d learned from his beast-men. But large as the greenhouse was, the police would find me in minutes.
    Lucy gave me a strange look, dabbing at her brow again. “Whatever’s the matter with you?”
    “The police are here,” I whispered. I jerked my chin toward the door at the far end of the palm court, where amid the trickle of water from the fountains, the groan of the heavy iron door sounded. I should get away from Lucy. It would only humiliate her to have her friend arrested so publicly.
    I started for the door to intercept him, but Lucy grabbed my arm. “The police? Oh, don’t tell me you’re still afraid of the police. That was ages ago, and everything was sorted out. And look at you; you’d look like royalty if you’d just stop slouching so much. Only criminals slouch.”
    My heart pounded harder as the officer appeared through the vines that draped from the catwalk above. He was a tall man with a sweep of chestnut hair that matched Lucy’s, and he walked with the confidence of the upper classes. Not a beat patrol officer, then. They’d sent someone important for me—how thoughtful. He was dressed in a fine dark suit with an old-fashioned copper bulletproof breastplate beneath his cravat, and a pistol at his hip.
    My muscles twitched, urging me to flee, but Lucy’s arm still held me.
    “Oh, him?” She sighed. “You’ve nothing to worry about. He’s not here for you. Papa must have sent him to collect me.”
    I looked between the officer and Lucy, still not understanding. “What do you mean?”
    “That’s John Newcastle, the suitor Papa’s so fond of,” she said. “I was just telling you about him. Don’t tell me you weren’t listening. Really, Juliet.”
    I stared at her. “You didn’t say he was a police officer!”
    “He isn’t a police officer,” she said, fluffing her hair where the humidity had made it go flat. “He’s an inspector. Scotland Yard’s top inspector.” Her voice dropped to a mutter. “He’s rather fond of telling me how important he is, not to mention handsome. He’d marry himself, I do believe, if he could.”
    “Lucy—” I started, but Inspector Newcastle reached us then and gave us a dashing smile, his eyes only darting to me in a perfunctory manner before settling on Lucy. I wished he’d taken no notice of me at all.
    “Lucy, darling.” He bent forward to kiss her cheek. It left a glistening mark that she dabbed at with the handkerchief.
    “Papa sent you, I presume?”
    “He invited me to supper, and I offered to come collect you.”
    She grabbed my arm again. “John, this is my friend Juliet Moreau. Oh, Juliet, I’ve a fine idea. Go ask the professor if you can join us for a bite to eat.” Her insistent wink told me she didn’t want to spend an extra moment alone with her suitor.
    “Yes, you’re welcome to join us, Miss Moreau.” He extended his hand to take mine, but as soon as my fingers were in his, his hand