Page 1 of Lady Liar (A Series of Senseless Complications #5)

T hrough the time-honored tradition of marrying them off, The Duke of Pelham had begun his efforts at unloading his seven daughters some years ago.

He’d launched four of them out of the house, which left three to go.

It really did seem as if he’d climbed a mountain and was now poised to gently drift down the other side to a comfortable landing, ending in the long-anticipated empty house.

Certainly, it must be a gentle drift and a soft landing.

After all, he’d earned it ten times over.

Never had a group of girls made so much trouble on their way to an altar.

Letting loose a Bengal tiger, setting a house on fire, necessitating a chase across half of England, a kidnapping of the three-legged dog variety, and sufficient tears to drown half of London—it was enough to wear out even the most stalwart gentleman.

Number five was poised to launch and his dear Verity was an original sort of girl.

He’d thought she’d leave behind her penchant for claiming to know things she most definitely did not know.

She had not. But then, a young lady occasionally spouting nonsense could not cause too much trouble.

It seemed to him that spouting off nonsense was one of the primary activities of young people.

Or as Verity might phrase it: “It is the usual case of things, or so I’ve been told.

” Nobody had the first idea who might be telling her all these random cases of things.

On the bright side, the girl was pretty as a picture. Of all of his daughters, Verity most obviously had her mother’s looks, with her dark hair and dark hazel eyes. Any young buck encountering Verity would probably not hear half of what she said on account of it. At least, that was the hope.

Whatever the case might be, he would gird his loins and do his duty. As the season marched ever closer, there was one thing that put a spring in his step. He was on the precipice of doing battle with his sister, Lady Marchfield, once more.

He had high hopes, and had been watching the post, to hear that Lady Misery would try another gambit to get a butler into his house.

He would be fascinated to discover how his trusty housekeeper got the fellow out again.

It had been a battle of wills for four years now, and his household had emerged victorious in every single one of those years.

London was littered with the dashed hopes and broken dreams of the various butlers having had the temerity to step through his doors, but that could not be helped. A duke must have his amusements.