Barbara Metzger Read Online Free PDF Page A

here we are then.” Lesley coughed and pushed open the front door. He tried to make light of the chaos within. “It's not what you're used to, I'm sure. Bachelor digs, don't you know."
    He could see her looking around for a clean place to set down the baby, so he swept his arm across the hall table, sending bottles and dishes, racing forms and a painted fan, to the floor. Thank heaven, he thought, she hadn't glimpsed the risqué painting on the fan. The widow's nose was already twitching so fast she was in danger of turning into a squirrel. “There is an unused bedroom abovestairs. That should be in order."
    Carissa pursed her lips. “First the kitchen, I think."
    Well, they hardly used the place, Lesley reflected, so how bad could it be? Mrs. Kane's gasp told him. “The, ah, staff left precipitously.” So much for no excuses. “I haven't had a chance to replace them."
    In two years, by the looks of things. Carissa was horrified, itching to take Pippa and the baby back across the street. But she could never bring the infant to Sir Gilliam's, she knew, even if the poor scrap didn't belong to the viscount. Mason gave her enough trouble over Pippa as it was. The martinet would stir up such a dust if she brought the baby back that Sir Gilliam would be disturbed, which she would not do, not even for an innocent tyke. Lord Hartleigh would just have to put this place in order, unless...
    "You are not below hatches, are you, my lord?” Perhaps that would explain why such a nonpareil was living in Kensington. No rumors of his pecuniary embarrassment had come Cook's way, however, or Carissa would have been bound to hear. “You know, punting on tick, I believe it is called."
    The muscles in the viscount's jaw bulged from his effort not to bite her head off. “I know what it is called, Mrs. Kane. And no, I am not in Dun Territory."
    She let her eyes encompass the room again before coming back to him. “Then why do you live this way, my lord?"
    "Because, madam, I simply do not care."
    "How sad."
    The drab felt sorry for him? The gall, the effrontery! She was the one earning her keep in a menial post, or on her back, and she felt pity for him? “You are impertinent, ma'am."
    Instead of putting her in her place, the viscount's words seemed to amuse the woman. She smiled, taking five years off her age, at least, and asked, “Shall I leave, then?"
    It was extortion, plain and simple, and it was deuced effective. Byrd was nearly apoplectic. “It's just his way, ma'am, he don't mean nothing by coming the heavy. Do you, Cap'n?"
    The viscount bowed toward the black-clad widow and bowed toward the inevitable. “My apologies, Mrs. Kane. No offense intended.” No apologies, no excuses, hah! Next Miss Prunes and Prisms would have him groveling at her feet, lest she abandon them.
    Carissa had cleared an area on the kitchen table for the baby's hamper, and found a not-too-rickety chair for Philippa. She gestured for Byrd to start the fire, and was looking around for a pan big enough for a baby bath. “Very well, my lord,” she called over her shoulder, “but this simply will not do. You cannot keep a child here, no matter how temporarily."
    "The room upstairs will be adequate. How much space does an infant require?"
    "It is not a matter of space. Pigs thrive in sties, my lord, infants do not."
    "I did say I was meaning to hire servants, Mrs. Kane. I'll do so immediately."
    She nodded. “I'll write a note to the employment agency Sir Gilliam patronizes. I am sure they can send the beginnings of a staff over this afternoon. Whether they stay or not is another question."
    Carissa was doubtful, but there were few enough positions open that some poor souls might have to accept this one. She turned to the viscount's man. “You do know how to heat water, Mr. Byrd, don't you? The child needs a bath as soon as can be.” She could not help glancing toward the viscount. “Some extra hot water would not come amiss either."
    Byrd grinned and