Gather Ye Rosebuds Read Online Free PDF

ours, and Brodagan announced that she, for one, was ready to perjure herself in the matter, for she could not draw breath under the same roof as Master Cock o’ the Ashes. The good Lord would not demand it of her.
    Mama and I felt that once the Weylins had the diamonds, there would be no legal action taken, even if Steptoe told them of our involvement. Lady Weylin was too lethargic to enjoy going to court, and Weylin would not be eager to alienate an old family like ours, with political connections in the parish.
    Lord Weylin had, as promised, sent some dusty old books to Hernefield the afternoon before. There was a preponderance of sermons and reformation tracts by such lively writers as John Donne and Hannah More, a few slender volumes of bad verse by poets no one had ever heard of, and one severely mauled copy of Pamela taken from the circulating library in town. Its condition suggested that her ladyship either read with her teeth, or allowed Bubbums to have his way with the books.
    Many of the novels in our circulating library are similarly gnawed. The return date was marked as August 31, 1801. A mere decade and a half overdue. That was my pretext for calling, to return this long overdue library book; included in error with the others, which, presumably, did belong to the Weylins.
    Prepared to be shunted into the small parlor, I had decided to shove the curst necklace down the side of the settee, return Pamela when and if I was granted an audience—and I truly hoped I would not be—and leave at once. Seeton recognized me on the second visit.
    “Is her ladyship expecting you?” he asked with his usual hauteur, but he let me in.
    “No, she is not. Shall I wait in the other room?”
    “One moment, please,” he said, and disappeared, not into the Blue Saloon, but down the hallway, leaving me to cool my heels just inside the door.
    I made use of the time to examine the entrance for possible hiding places. Unfortunately, the decorations in that area were all statues, and I could not like to hang a string of diamonds around the neck of Zeus. While I was looking about for other hidey-holes, there was a light sound of footsteps, and Lord Weylin came wafting down the staircase. He was turned out in what he, no doubt, considered country style. He wore buckskins and top boots whose pristine condition suggested no familiarity with the great outdoors.
    He stopped dead in his tracks and stared. “Miss Barron,” he said, with a formal bow.
    “Good morning,” I replied, backing away from Zeus, and blushing at the memory of our last encounter. At least he could not think I would try to slip a six-foot statue into my pocket.
    “You have come to see Mama, I collect?”
    “Yes, to return one of the books you were kind enough to send to the Book Society,” I said, holding out Pamela.
    He looked at it, then lifted his eyes to gaze at me. “You have an aversion to Richardson? A trifle racy, perhaps, but then, you are no longer a deb.”
    That chronic air of disdain suggested he was seeking out crow’s-feet and faded skin, and finding them in abundance. “I merely thought you might prefer to return it to the circulating library, whence it came—fifteen years ago.”
    “Overdue, is it?” He reached for the book and opened the gnawed cover. “An oversight. Very kind of you to return it. You must go to the library and select a different novel.”
    “I did not come to beg, Lord Weylin!” Yet if I left now, my job would still be unaccomplished. The library seemed a good place to hide the necklace. “Well, perhaps if you have some novels you are finished with...”
    He wafted his hand to indicate the library was down the hallway. I said, “Thank you,” and began to move along. Weylin followed behind to curtail my depredations on his library.
    “I must commend you for your endeavors, Miss Barron. It is a good idea for you ladies to keep your minds busy,” he said, in a hatefully condescending way.
    “Yes indeed, for we do