Gift-Wrapped Governess by Sophia James Page A

their acquaintance. While he was mounted on Diamond—the most recent, and by far the showiest addition to his stables—surely she could not help admiring him, just a little, when he cut such a dashing figure?
    He’d always been at a loss to comprehend that disapproving way she’d taken to looking at him, not when he’d never had any trouble charming any other female. He shook his head. It was absurd that it should matter, but he would infinitely prefer this one brief meeting to occur while he was on horseback, and she on foot, so that he could maintain the illusion of being the one looking down.
    Anyway, even if she did find something of which to disapprove, she would not be able to be rude to one of her employer’s guests, not surrounded by so many little witnesses. A smile played about his lips at the prospect of having Miss Miller, for once, at a distinct disadvantage.
    As he turned Diamond’s head to urge him towards the group of children he could now pick out, through the branches, he heard another of the riders break away from the group and approach.
    â€˜Where are you going, Lord Chepstow?’
    He glanced over his shoulder to see Lady Springfield urging her pretty little roan mare after him.
    â€˜Just going to take a look at the children,’ he said, tolerating her intrusive question only because Lady Springfield was scarce out of the schoolroom herself. ‘Or rather, their governess. Got a notion she’s an acquaintance of my sister’s.They boarded at the same school. Ought to pay my respects, since I’m here.’
    Lady Springfield pulled a face. ‘Oh, governesses. A dreadfully boring breed.’
    His smile faded. Even though he’d just been thinking far less charitable thoughts towards Miss Miller himself, it was quite different to hear a person who knew nothing whatever about her utter such a disparaging remark.
    â€˜Miss Miller is by no means boring,’ he said firmly. No, what Miss Miller was, was awkward. On her first visit to one of his homes he’d assumed she was shy, and perhaps a little in awe of her friend’s big brother, since she’d been unable to utter a single word without turning bright red.
    Subsequent visits had made him revise his opinion. Eventually he’d asked Pippa outright why on earth she would keep on bringing such a sullen, joyless creature into his house. ‘Why couldn’t you bring a pretty, amiable girl to stay, just once?’ —instead of one who grew steadily more withdrawn and less easy on the eye with every passing year.
    To his astonishment Pippa had squared her shoulders, taken a deep breath and, with the air of a martyr about to go to the stake, declared, ‘It does not matter to me what she looks like. She’s my best friend. If it was not for her, I do not know how I would cope with school.’
    He’d accepted that could be true. Pippa was not all that bright. The Miller girl had probably helped her with her work. He could see her as one of those dull but diligent scholars who excelled at whatever task their teacher set. He still had a set of watercolours she’d done whilst staying with him one year, hanging in the bedroom she’d used. They looked so like the leaves of the bushes she’d copied, they could have gone into a book.
    Besides, the girls had both started at Moulsham Lodge about the same time, having both just lost their parents. That, too, must have created a bond. Strong enough for Pippa towant Miss Miller at her side during her Season. She’d been quite downcast when the girl refused, saying she could not afford it. So downcast that he’d very generously offered to meet all her expenses.
    He looked towards the belt of trees. He had actually quite admired her for refusing to let him frank her. Whatever the source of friendship between the girls, avarice played no part on Miss Miller’s side. Which was a rare quality to find in a female in a