Her heart raced as she tried to find the most opportune moment to reveal her treasure. She was having a hard time finding the courage to implement her plan, and hated to admit it to herself. The desire to do so was overwhelming, but she had not expected the slight nausea that was filling her stomach. IfOwenwere in her shoes he would not even hesitate. He would be as calm and collected as ever—and enjoying every single moment of it.
“Leah?” She turned at his voice and his brow creased. “Are you going to be ill?”
Ill? Did she always make her feelings so obvious to those around her? “Oh, no. I am fine. I had only been remembering last evening’s meal.” She forced a laugh and his confusion only seemed to deepen, watching her as she gestured to her plate. “I seem to be more blessed this morning as to choices of food.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes. I suppose.”
She was beginning to lose her nerve. And if she didn’t rid the foot from her glove soon she was quite sure her skin would never recover. It already felt as if a rash was forming.
It was now or never.
“Rose,” Leah said, drawing her youngest sister's attention. Rose sat precisely where Leah needed to avert Owen’s attention. “You should tell Owen about the new dress Mother purchased for you at Brooke’s shop.”
Rose lit up at the opportunity to have not only Owen’s attention, but a chance to talk about her most recent purchase. “Oh, yes. Owen, would you mind? Or would that be horridly dull?”
Owen smiled down the table at her. “Not at all. I would love to hear about it.”
And just as Leah had hoped, Rose launched into an enthusiastic discourse on her new dress, going into great detail about the intricate overlay, delicate stitching and soft rose color that matched not onlyher,but also her name, perfectly.
While Owen was distracted by Rose’s raptures, Leah slipped the furry foot out from her glove—inwardly wincing as one of the claws scraped across the delicate skin of her wrist in the process. Then, before she could back out or think better of it, she dropped it on the napkin on Owen's lap.
Leah waited, trying her best not to look at Owen as impatience overwhelmed her. She could have sworn he would have felt its weight as soon as she dropped it there, but he kept his eyes fastened on Rose, who didn’t seem to be coming to a close of her vivid descriptions.
She didn’t want Owen to stand from the table only to have the foot drop to the floor without him noticing. Failing twice was not an option. Surely she could figure out a way to draw his attention to it.
Leah reached forward, lifting her teacup and taking a sip before ever so delicately spilling it in Owen’s lap.
His reaction was immediate, gasping and throwing his hands up as her hot tea soaked into his breeches.
“Leah.” He reared back, balling up the napkin on his lap and standing as he tried to blot his breeches dry.
She could have screamed. How could he not have seen the foot! He had quickly grabbed the napkin, apparently preserving the foot within the soft confines of the fabric. Well, Leah hoped the napkin and the foot would be very happy together, but this was not at all how it was supposed to happen.
“I’m sorry, Owen,” she said, standing beside him. “My hand had a twitch and your breeches seemed to take the brunt of it.”
“Brunt? I do not believe the tea landed anywhere other than my lap. See? The chair is in perfect order.” He jerked his head down at his seat before grimacing and transferring his wiping from his breeches to his hands. His brow wrinkled and his wiping slowed. “What on earth?” He opened the cloth, and all Leah saw was a small bit of brown before the napkin went flying into the air.
The napkin seemed to float—almost as if time had suspended it, the cloth slowly unfolding as it made its way over the table. The foot tumbled out of its folds, gently spinning as it descended.
And then it landed in the middle of Jonas’ plate.
“Ah!” Jonas flung his hand out, hitting the foot as well as several items of food. A clatter rang out while the foot and food all went spraying toward Cecily.
Cecily reared back at the contact. She didn’t seem to notice the foot. “Jonas, do you mind?” She brushed food off her front, reaching out toward her own napkin. And then she saw the brown vermin sitting beside her glass. She stood with a scream, tipping her chair over and falling backwards to the floor. Their mother immediately ran over to Cecily to be sure she was all right, helping her to stand.
Leah covered her mouth, unsure whether she should laugh or cry. But before she could decide which emotion was stronger, she felt a heaviness lingering on her back—her spine tingling. She turned and there stood Owen, staring at her with his mouth agape.
“What?” she asked as innocently as she could.
He narrowed his eyes and took a quick step toward her, leaning his head close to her ear. The tingling on her spine multiplied a thousand times and her breath caught.
“I know that was you,” Owen whispered into her ear. He lingered, the space between them suffocatingly small, and Leah wasn’t sure if she should pull away or stand her ground. Owen looked down at her, then took a small step back, allowing some much-needed space between them.
She put a hand to her stomach, finally able to take a breath. And then she remembered what he accused her of. Ignorance seemed the best response to such a claim. “Excuse me? I do not know what you mean.”
“It’s a rabbit’s foot!” Graham shouted.
Leah spun about to find Graham holding the foot up in the air. He looked around the room. “How ever did a rabbit’s foot end up on the table?”
