Free The Indomitable Miss Harris by Amanda Scott Page B

protector-general, I cannot in good conscience allow you to engage in such low activity with anyone but myself.”
    Gillian obediently handed him her card, but not before she noted the look of gratitude cast him by his niece.

V
    “W AS HER CARD REALLY full?” Gillian asked as Landover swung her into the dance.
    “No,” he chuckled, “but I’m not so green as to fail to recognize wishful thinking when I come across it. There were two blank spaces, but our Lady Sybilla was clearly hoping for one particular name to occupy those spaces, and I fear it was not mine. I’d not be much of an uncle were I to dash such romantical hopes.”
    “Well, I’ve no notion who it might be,” Gillian replied dampingly. “She’s said nothing whatever to me about any special beau. I think you must be all about in your head, sir. She merely didn’t wish to dance with you.”
    “Attempting to depress my pretensions, Miss Harris?” he gibed. “And what of yourself? Do you object to dancing with her?”
    “Since you asked me to dance with you only to prevent my dancing with anyone else, the question is hardly a fair one,” she retorted. He promptly whirled her into an intricate pattern of steps that necessitated her complete concentration, but when she could think again, she realized he had not pressed her for an answer, and that it was just as well for her own self-respect that he had not. For she thoroughly enjoyed dancing with him, although she would not have told him so for a wilderness of monkeys. He held her firmly and guided her steps with recognizable expertise, but it was not that alone which made the experience a pleasurable one. It was more that they seemed to fit, that she felt comfortable with him. Now that she came to think of it, even when he infuriated her, she still felt as though she had known him forever. It was not at all as though she had been scolded by a total stranger. And yet, before that morning, to all intents and purposes, that was precisely what Landover had been to her. It was all very odd, very odd indeed.
    They parted company after that dance, and though she was aware of his gaze upon her from time to time, they did not meet again until their carriage was due. Consequently, Miss Harris returned to Landover House in perfect charity with her host. Unfortunately, that state of affairs was short-lived.
    The following day, Landover presented himself in the drawing room with the first of her morning callers. He exerted himself to be genial, but nevertheless, his very presence could only cast a damper. And when she announced that an invitation had arrived as promised for her to drink tea with the Princess Charlotte the following day, Landover made it quite clear that he expected Mrs. Periwinkle to accompany her, despite the fact that the invitation had been addressed to Gillian alone.
    “You’re being positively Gothic, Landover!” she protested.
    “Be that as it may, it is perfectly proper for your chaperone to accompany you, and I insist that she do so. I do not want you striking up an intimate friendship with Charlotte.”
    Gillian’s reply to that was an exasperated and very unladylike snort, but he was adamant, and so it was that the two ladies were ushered into the elegantly appointed drawing room at Warwick House the following day.
    The princess professed herself delighted to see them both and behaved as naturally as any ordinary hostess. But Gillian was astonished by the number of ladies-in-waiting deemed necessary for the comfort of a royal princess and realized that even without Landover’s warning, it would have been difficult to lay any real foundation for an intimate relationship. Nonetheless, she and Mrs. Periwinkle thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Gillian was particularly gratified, Landover’s orders notwithstanding, when the princess took advantage of a moment while Mrs. Periwinkle’s attention was diverted to plead with her to return another day, alone, so that they might enjoy a