Not Quite a Lady Read Online Free PDF Page A

intellect or sense of humor.
    What did matter was that the lady had referred to her father’s property bordering Darius’s. Not her husband’s.
    Ergo, she must be an unmarried daughter of the Marquess of Lithby.
    It was odd—not to mention extremely annoying—that Darius had mistaken her. Usually he could spot a virgin at fifty paces. Had he realized this was a maiden, not a matron, he would have set her on her feet and sent her packing immediately. Though he had little use for Society’s illogical rules, he drew the line at seducing innocents.
    Since seduction was out of the question, he saw no reason to continue the conversation. He had wasted far too much time on her already.
    He held out the hat.
    With a wary look, she took it.
    “I apologize for startling you or getting in your way or whatever I did,” he said dismissively. “Certainly you are welcome to traipse about the property as you’ve always done. It is of no consequence to me. Good day.”

Chapter 2
    Darius turned away, walked back to the pond’s edge, told his reproductive organs to calm down, and once again settled onto his stomach to watch the dragonflies.
    Since a mere female could not possibly throw an experienced rake into a panic, it could not occur to him that something about the encounter had caused him to panic and leap to a hasty conclusion.
    However, Darius’s most intimate companion, as his family often complained, was Logic. He was objective and rational to a fault. Thus, it was not too long before he detected the flaw in his reasoning.
    As he was trying with limited success to return his mind to the dragonflies, his best friend and mentor, Logic, noted that unmarried daughters were not the only kind of daughters who might belong to Lord Lithby. An unhappily married daughter might be visiting. A widowed daughter might have returned to live with her parents.
    Hope rose again.
    So did Darius.
    She was very pretty, after all.
    She had vanished from view.
    “Damnation,” he said.
    It was unlike his wits to be so sluggish. How long had he lain there, staring at the insects, before his mind had woken up?
    He shook his head. He had spent too much time in London, that was the trouble. The country air had not had time enough to cleanse his brain.
    Still, it was easy enough for someone to disappear in this wilderness. Perhaps she had not gone far.
    He started down the path she’d taken.
    He followed it to the stream that divided the two properties. He discerned no sign of his prey.
    He kicked a pebble into the stream, then started back to his house—or the stables, rather. He wanted a wash and something to eat, and for that he must ride back to the inn. He’d counted at least two attractive and clearly willing maidservants there.
    Either one—or perhaps both—would serve his purpose.
    He’d wasted enough time on the lady.
    Lithby Hall, a short time later
    Her stepmother was coming down the stairs as Charlotte was going up. Both paused.
    “Good heavens, Charlotte, what has happened?” said Lizzie.
    “Nothing,” said Charlotte.
    “How can you be so absurd?” Lizzie said. “You have mud on your nose. Your dress is soiled. Your gloves are unspeakable. Where is your hat?”
    “I gave it to Hyacinth,” Charlotte said. She had stopped at the pigsty on the way back.
    “You what?”
    “She ate it,” Charlotte said. Contrary to Lord Lithby’s cherished beliefs, Hyacinth could and did eat anything and everything, with no discernible ill effects. The sow had easily digested more than one book of sermons officious relatives had foisted upon Charlotte.
    Lizzie turned and followed Charlotte up the stairs. She said no more, however, until they reached Charlotte’s room.
    “Good heavens, your ladyship, what’s happened?” said her maid, Molly.
    “Nothing,” said Lady Lithby. “Leave us for a moment, Molly. We’ll ring when we want you.”
    “But, your ladyship, she’s all over mud,” said Molly.
    “It doesn’t matter,” said