And then every eye in the room snapped to Owen.
“What?” Owen asked, placing one hand on his hip and holding a finger in the air with the other. “I did not do this. I swear.”
“Who else would bring a rabbit’s foot to breakfast?” Cecily asked, still scowling after her fall.
Owen’s eyes flicked to Leah for a second before dropping to the table. “I do not know, but it wasn’t me.”
He could have tried to out her, but there was no way Leah’s family would believe she had been the one to bring a rabbit’s foot as a guest to breakfast. And apparently Owen figured the same.
“Well, it wasn’t me,” Rose said, crossing her arms over her chest. “A young lady would never have anything to do with a filthy rabbit’s foot.”
“Truer words have never been spoken, Rose,” Leah agreed. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must write a letter to Amelia.” She turned on her heel, hastening toward the door before more questions could be asked.
“Leah, wait,” Owen called after her.
She paused at the door, putting her hand against the wooden frame but refusing to look back. Owen’s steps clacked against the floor, stopping when he reached her side.
“I believe you forgot something.” His voice was low, but she thought she heard a slight vein of humor in his tone.
She knew before looking what it would be. “Thank you.” Letting go of the doorframe, she turned and snatched the furry foot from his grasp. Just as she went to pull her hand back, his fingers closed over hers like a trap springing into motion around its unsuspecting prey. A slight gasp slipped from her lips.
“Owen, whatever are you—”
“—I know that was you, Leah. You just admitted as much by taking this disgusting thing back.”
Drat. She had given herself away. But she was too proud and stubborn to allow him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. She scoffed. “Why would I commit such a childish prank?” He hadn’t let go of her hand and his fingers caressed her wrist.
“Because of the snowball I presume?” Instead of only a hint of amusement in his eyes, they were now full of it.
She decided to continue with ignorance. There was no way ofprovingshe had anything to do with the foot. “Snowball?” She looked back down at her wrist.
Did he not have any qualms about holding her hand so long? And in front of her family? Perhaps he thought she would run away if he did not hold her anchored—and he would be correct. Luckily, her family seemed more occupied with putting the table to rights than with what she and Owen were discussing.
He nodded. “But I fear I must warn you that whatever thread of dignity kept me from participating before is now broken.”
“You are speaking in riddles. I have no idea what you are talking about.”
She jerked her hand back, keeping the foot, no matter how loath she was to do so. A promise of its safe return had been made, and she would keep her word.
Leah walked through the door, but just as she was about to round up the stairs, she heard Owen’s low voice.
“The game is afoot.”
Chapter 11
Leah. Afternoon of the third day.
Leahsatatherwindow, replaying the whole foot ordeal in her mind, and to her great surprise—she found herself laughing.
First there had been Owen’s face as he finally found the foot in his napkin, and then Jonas’ flinging food across the table at Cecily and Cecily’s falling to the floor . . .
Leah shook her head. Who would have known that something as silly as a fairly harmless prank could bring such entertainment.
A knock sounded on her door, and Rose poked her head into the room before Leah could ask who was there.
“Yes, Rose. Do help yourself and come in.” Leah smiled to herself, walking across the room and pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders against the chill.
“I’m sorry, Leah. But everyone is going outside to get some evergreen trimmings for the table this evening and I thought you would want to go.”
