What Happens in Piccadilly - Chasity Bowlin Page 0,54

understand?”

She nodded. “He was a terrible man. I don’t know what he would have done had Miss St. James not been here.”

Winn sighed. “Well, she was here and we are both very lucky for it.”

“You like her.”

He shrugged. “Of course, I like her. She’s an excellent governess.”

Claudia’s eyes rolled at that. “No. You like her.”

Winn stared at the very grown up expression on his young niece’s face and had to accept the fact, that women, regardless of their age, had the unique ability to see straight through a man no matter how well concealed he thought his secrets were. “This is not an appropriate topic of conversation.”

Her eyebrows arched upward and her lips pressed together into a disapproving line that looked shockingly familiar. She looked like a younger, feminine version of himself to be precise and it was decidedly uncomfortable to be confronted with his own mannerisms in miniature.

“Really, Uncle Winn, can’t you just admit it? You like her. And I’m fairly certain she likes you!”

That piqued his curiosity. While he knew he shouldn’t encourage her, he was too invested in the insight she might provide to correct her again. “How do you know?”

Claudia shrugged. “You both try entirely too hard not to look at one another when you’re in the same room together. It’s obvious. And whenever you leave the room, Miss St. James lets out her breath on a long sigh but it doesn’t sound like relief. It sounds… wistful.”

“That’s a rather unexpected word choice for someone who supposedly has had a very neglected education,” he pointed out.

“I can still read… and I like to. I just don’t like to read the things I’m supposed to be reading,” she said. “And I know you went to fetch her this morning and bring her here because you are worried for her.”

Now that was more than a guess. “How would you know that, Claudia?”

“I found the note in your study… the one that was thrown through the window. Is she really the daughter of a duke?”

Winn shook his head. “First, why were you in my study?”

“I was returning a book,” she said. “And I saw the note crumpled up on the floor. I picked it up, read it, and then I heard the door slam. When I looked out the window I saw you walking away and I knew you were likely doing something to protect Miss St. James.”

“Or I could have been going for a morning ride,” he pointed out. “It’s dangerous to assume that you know what people’s motivations are, Claudia.”

“Well, you’d look happier than that if you were just going for a ride,” she said. “And I know you’d protect her. I’m not assuming anything there.”

“How do you know that?”

Another eye roll. “Because you like her!”

Winn ran a hand over his eyes. “We’re talking in circles. Claudia, I need you to promise me you will say nothing to William or Charlotte about all of this.”

“I wouldn’t dare. William would be unbearably foolish,” she said.

“So he would,” Winn agreed. “And to put your mind at rest, I’m taking all the steps I can to ensure Miss St. James’ safety.”

“You should marry her,” Claudia said.

“I’m not taking marital advice from a not quite eleven year old,” he stated flatly. “Besides, how on earth would that keep her safe?”

“Because she taught me all about the peerage and I know that, as our governess, if someone hurt her and that person was a gentleman, not very much would happen to them at all. But if they hurt her and she was the wife of a peer, their social equal, then it could go very badly for them,” Claudia answered. “The best way to protect her is to make the consequences of harming her more severe.”

Winn stared at the girl with a mixture of shock and awe. She was uncannily brilliant. “You can read any book you like whenever you like… except for the top shelf.”

“What’s on the top shelf?” she asked curiously.

Ovid, for one, which she should never read. Some particularly nasty works of John Wilmott that his brother had adored. It was a treasure trove of all the things she should never, ever read. “Nothing. Or rather nothing will be on it by the time you return.”

Claudia grinned at him. “You’re starting to sound almost paternal.”

“So I am,” he said, aghast at the thought.

“Marriage—”

“Enough about that,” he said firmly. Not because he thought it was a bad idea or because he’d dismissed it out of hand, but because there were