Miss Pymbroke's Rules Read Online Free PDF Page A

for the Season while Verity lived next door, ending with, “And, Miss Woolcott, you may at long last return to the country.”
    Miss Woolcott’s knitting fell to the floor when she lurched from her chair to embrace Verity. “Oh, my girl, thank you! I know you will be as happy with the Ladies Iris and Hyacinth as I shall be with my widowed brother back in my dear village with its marvelous sheep and cows.”
    Verity returned the woman’s hug while the marquess politely gathered the fallen knitting. Miss Woolcott thanked him and flew from the room declaring she must begin packing.
    “How neatly this has fallen into place,” Lady Iris said and beamed at the young people.
    “Indeed,” Verity responded crossly, feeling as if she had been manipulated and was now trapped in an odious coil. Her conscience would not allow her to disappoint Woolsey. And, because rudeness was foreign to her nature, she shrank from insulting Lady Iris, who had been so kind since Mama’s passing last year, by denying the lady’s relation occupancy of a house she had previously agreed to lease.
    It was entirely his fault, Verity decided, glaring at the marquess. He must know she would not want to lease the house to a rackety sort such as him. But, then, he would hardly spare a thought for her feelings, she reflected. Rakes never concerned themselves with the sensibilities of others. Her father certainly had not cared for his wife’s or either of his daughters’ feelings when he had run off with an actress.
    The butler entered. “Mr. Cecil Sedgewick has called, miss. Shall I show him in here?”
    Lady Iris moaned. “Must we?”
    “Of course,” Verity replied, frowning at Lady Iris. Turning to the waiting servant, she said, “Yes, Digby, and please bring fresh tea.”
    The butler bowed and left the room.
    The marquess rose to his feet, a glint of humor in his eyes. “I shan’t keep you from your guest, Miss Pymbroke. Would three days be sufficient time for your removal next door? I would like to occupy the house by the end of the week.”
    Verity wished she might turn up her nose and send him away with a flea in his ear. However, since her finances were past praying for, such emotions would have to be kept in check. She must make it clear, though, that he follow certain rules if he were to live in her home.
    Rising to her feet, she threw back her head in a martyred way and said, “Yes, three days will do, my lord, but we have the rules of your tenancy to discuss.”
    He waved a careless hand at her. “Rules? Miss Pymbroke, I rarely concern myself with such trivialities. My man of business will call upon you tomorrow and settle whatever sum you require for the arrangement.”
    Verity stood aghast at these proclamations.
    Lady Iris struggled to her feet with the aid of her cane. Adjusting her high white wig she declared, “Good. Everything is decided.”
    In an aside Verity missed, Lady Iris added to the marquess, “Let us lake our leave before I am forced into the company of that moralizing prig, Sedgewick.”
    Verity faced her soon-to-be tenant. “I was not speaking of money, Lord Carrisworth. What of the servants? Will you be bringing your own and thus turning mine out into the streets? If so, I take leave to remind you how difficult it is for servants to find a place.”
    The marquess raised a brow and gazed at her speculatively. “How unusual you are, in that you should consider the fate of mere servants. But, you need not bristle up that way. I have sent my servants to the country and have no intention of displacing yours.”
    Verity breathed a sigh of relief. “Very well. Now, the other matters to consider—”
    At that moment, Digby opened the door to reveal a slight, thin man in his middle twenties dressed in black. His sandy-colored hair was noticeably thin on top, and he peered out at the world from behind a pair of spectacles that magnified his pale blue eyes. In his hands, he carried a sheaf of pamphlets.
    He looked at