Confessions of a Scoundrel Read Online Free Page A

door and peeked in. “Rang fer me, did ye?”
    â€œYes. Please come in.”
    He entered the room, his wide smile accentuated with an improbably bright gold tooth. “Whot can oiye do fer ye, m’lady?”
    â€œHerberts, Mr. Lansdowne has lost his watch.”
    â€œWhot a pity.”
    James frowned. “Verena, I don’t understand why you’re telling this to your butler. He couldn’t know—”
    â€œCouldn’t he?” She pinned a glare on Herberts. “Well?”
    The butler sniffed. “Oiye moight know where the gent’s ticker is. And then again, oiye moight not.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and reeled back on his heels. “Mayhap the lad left it in his carriage.”
    â€œMr. Lansdowne’s watch is not in his carriage and you know it.”
    â€œM’lady,” the butler said in an injured tone. “Oiye hope ye aren’t implyin’ anyfing unsavory about me character.”
    A choke of laughter erupted from James.
    Verena ignored him. “Herberts,” she said, only louder this time. “Return it. Now.”
    Herberts shook his head, his long, thin face folded in disapproval. “Ye’re like a rat with a bone in yer teeth, ye are. ’Tis not a pretty way fer a lady to act.”
    Verena merely raised a brow and waited.
    The butler sighed heavily. “Oh very well. Oiye pinched it. But the lad deserved it; he didn’t hand o’er so much as a ha’penny fer openin’ the door. Not a single grinder.”
    â€œWhat?” James exclaimed, all trace of amusement gone. “You expect a vale for merely opening a door?”
    The butler cast an unimpressed eye over James’s perfectly pressed eveningwear. “It’s whot the real gentry do.”
    James opened his mouth as if to retort, but Verena forestalled him. “Herberts, even if Mr. Lansdowne owed you a vale—which I question—you have no right to steal from one of my guests.” She marched to a small table by the door and pulled it out from the wall. “Empty your pockets.”
    The butler’s face turned mournful as he slowly moved to the table. Shaking his head sadly, he reached deep into his pockets and deposited a handful of objects on the table. The items flashed as they clunked into a glittering pile.
    â€œGood God!” James rose from his chair to seethe loot. Four rings, two watch fobs, an ornate snuffbox, one watch, and no less than seven cravat pins lay on the table.
    He sent an admiring glance at Herberts. “You are quite good. Have you ever thought of— Ow! ” James rubbed his ribs where his sister had elbowed him. “What was that for?”
    â€œFor what you were about to say.” Verena turned to Herberts. “You know the rules. No stealing from my guests. For penance, polish all the silver in the pantry. Twice.”
    The butler blinked rapidly. “Twiced? Don’t ye think once would do the trick?”
    â€œTwice,” Verena said sternly. “Or you may give your notice now and I will hire another butler in your stead.”
    Herberts straightened his shoulders, an expression of noble suffering flittering across his thin face. “Very well. Oiye’ll polish all the silver in the bloomin’ pantry. Twiced .”
    â€œThank you,” Verena said. “That will be all.”
    â€œOiye, m’lady.” The butler started to turn toward the door, but then he caught himself. “Blimey! Almost fergot.” He executed a nearly perfect bow, then beamed pleasantly at Verena. “Thet’ll do the knacker, won’t it, missus?” Chuckling pleasantly, the butler quit the room.
    James waited until the door closed before he burst out laughing. “Good God, where did you get that character?”
    â€œThe Society for Wayward Women’s Servant Referral Service. Viscountess Hunterston runs it and, well, the prices are very