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Authors: The Nomad Harp

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“So this is the way my housekeeper disports herself when my back is turned!” Banfield declared dramatically. “Charles told me you had a lord calling on you."

“Ah, but you would expect no less of a mere woman, would you, Cousin Banfield?” Glenna asked with an impudent grin. “May I introduce you to Viscount Pontley? We are just about to become engaged.”

“Are we?” Pontley asked with a hopeful twinkle in his eye.

“Yes, well, you must see that I cannot lose face before my employer, Philip. I can do no less than accept your very kind offer.”

“Then I must thank Mr. Banfield for his indelicate intrusion,” Pontley asserted, and stepped forward to shake hands with the older man.

Banfield reluctantly acceded to this gesture, but growled at Glenna, “Your cousin said you had no intention of marrying.”

“No, I didn’t, and I had prepared myself for a lifetime as housekeeper to a worthy Member of Parliament. It is too bad of you, Philip, to upset Cousin Banfield’s apple cart this way. Why, he had agreed to ninety-five pounds a year with a review in three months to one hundred fifteen.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten it,” Banfield assured her.

“But then I would have left, and you would have had to face interviewing all sorts of wretched, incompetent women all over again.” She smiled warmly at him. “Come, admit I have not done so poorly in my position."

Reluctantly he returned her smile, which he had never done before. “No, you have done very well and I shall be sorry to lose you. Would you consider interviewing for your successor?”

Glenna looked questioningly at Pontley. “The year is not over yet.”

“No, but the dowager would hardly dare hold me to that promise now.” To Banfield he said, “Let us discuss the matter for a moment, if you will.”

“Certainly.”

The door closed behind Banfield with discreet silence, and Glenna immediately spoke. “He is just about to leave for London, Philip, and it would be very unkind of me to desert him.”

Pontley studied her concerned expression. “Have you formed an attachment for him, Glenna?”

“For Banfield? Good heavens, no. Do you know, this is the first time he has ever even smiled at me or admitted that my work was satisfactory? Not that he has been unfair; he has never criticized me, either. But I did accept the position on the understanding that I would be here at least three months, you see, and I feel a certain responsibility not to leave him in the lurch.”

"Men who have a dislike of women can be very easily attached when once they overcome their irrational prejudice. I think you would find that he would become dependent upon you, and he must often be away from home.”

“Are you suggesting that I stay and try to snare him?” Glenna asked coldly.

“I am only saying that he offers you some advantages I cannot.” He ran a hand distractedly through his hair. “I love you, Glenna, but I want you to be happy.”

“And do you think I can be happy without you, Philip?” she asked, angry tears forming in her eyes.

“Oh, God, I hope not,” he murmured as she allowed him to take her in his arms. “Will you need more than a month to find a replacement?”

"I should think two weeks would suffice.”

“Enough time for the banns to be read. Do you wish to have Mr. Thomas marry us?”

“Yes, if you should not mind. Philip, if you think I am being unreasonable, too independent, over this matter of a replacement, I...I would do as you wish.”

“Do you intend to be an obedient wife, then, Glenna? I could not believe it for a moment.” He reached over to remove the second water color from the wrapping paper. It was a dramatic portrait of Glenna, seated on her mare, her red-gold curls tousled by the wind, her eyes full of enthusiasm, her face aglow with laughter. “That is how I see you, and how I always wish to see you."

Glenna indicated the paintings on the wall. “I thought I would never see you again, Philip, and I could not bear not to have something of yours with me. I felt so foolish to love you when I had once been engaged to you and—”

“Never mind, love. We could not know then how we would feel.” He kissed her tenderly and pressed her to him. “I dare say I will paint you a thousand times and there will not be room enough in all Lockwood to hang them.”

“Oh, dear,” Glenna sighed. "I will have to transport the harp once more.”

He laughed down at her. “At least this will be the last time.”

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 1980 by Elizabeth Rotter

Originally published by Fawcett Coventry Books

Electronically published in 2002 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

 

     www.RegencyReads.com

     Electronic sales: [email protected]

 

This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.

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