Free Gentlemen Prefer Mischief by Emily Greenwood

his room. But she moved into action and started her search at the small table by his bed. There was a book on it, but it was too small to be her journal. She moved on to the desk, sweeping her hands lightly over it, keeping the journal’s square shape in mind, and the memory of the little strips of fabric she’d glued on it… and there it was.
    She slipped it into her bag. At the window, she took a deep breath and put her foot onto the branch just outside. And then she was working her way down the tree, feeling unstoppable.
    She returned across the dark grounds wearing a smile of triumph. Back in the safety of her room, she lit a candle and opened the book and read again for the first time words she’d written at a very different time in her life. By the end of the first paragraph her face was burning, and she slammed the cover closed and shoved the book as far as she could in the back of her desk drawer.
    Still, she thought as she collapsed onto her bed, she was satisfied with her night’s work. She’d finally gotten her wretched journal back.
    ***
    In Mayfield’s breakfast room, the late-night darkness relieved by the light of four artfully placed candles, Eloise was waiting with the door to the hallway ajar so she’d know when Hal and Ivorwood got back from hunting the Woods Fiend. It was after one in the morning, and she’d been there already for an hour, but she didn’t mind—it was part of the excitement.
    She’d been secretive, not setting things up in the breakfast room until the manor was quiet so nobody was around to say she was being inappropriate or any of those other things boring people said when a person tried to do something interesting.
    She was wearing her midnight silk gown—she thought it made her eyes look deep and mysterious—with her pearl drop earrings as just the right accent. She’d made the sandwiches herself, filled a jug with ale, and arranged the items on a pretty platter on the breakfast room table along with the candles. When she’d lived at Mayfield, the small breakfast room had never been used at night, and she thought it would be the coziest place for the evening surprise she’d planned for the men. Of course she’d done it all for Ivorwood, but obviously they’d have to include her brother since the men would come back together.
    Being together tonight was going to be so dreamy and perfect, just like it had been when the three of them had gone to the Opera in Town. That was the night when she’d first realized how very special Ivorwood was. Best of all, since everyone else was asleep, Hyacinth wouldn’t be around. Eloise wished Hal hadn’t invited the widow to Mayfield. She was always dragging the conversation around to herself, and she seemed to think Ivorwood found her featherbrained conversation and endless gossip fascinating, when any fool could see he was only being polite.
    A small commotion sounded in the hallway that led from the back entrance—they were coming!
    She moved to stand in the doorway so they’d see her as they drew close. Lit candles had been left out for the men’s return, and the play of light and shadow in the corridor made her think of how she’d never done something like this before. Little thrills danced around inside her.
    “You still up, Ellie?” her brother said when he caught sight of her. Ivorwood was right behind him, yawning adorably. His teeth flashed white in the semi-darkness as he came to stand next to Hal. They were both tall, and of course her brother was disgustingly handsome—she sometimes felt with irritated affection that it was wasted on him, like the water that overflowed a cup if you kept pouring when it was full—and they looked extremely well together, like some kind of masculine force. A matched pair of handsome, the dark and light versions.
    But Ivorwood, oh he was special. How dear was his gorgeous face, with his black hair all windblown around it from standing outside. She knew the exact color of green his