Page 58

Even though she was alone in the dining area and no sound came from the kitchens nearby, she attempted to put in her earbuds for an added measure of privacy. However, she realized all too late that she hadn’t charged them the night before.

Ah, well. It was worth it to listen to her latest audiobook, England’s Gardens: How to Transform Your Space to Work for You—and Earn for You.

Just another resource on how to help her figure out what more to do with Foxwood when the festival was over. If she proved her worth, that is.

“All right, Winnie,” Dad said, as if on cue. “You’re up.”

Winnie grimaced. What would she share this week? How she’d presented her plan to a group of individuals who had zero faith in any of her ideas? Or how she’d beaten up the heart of a man until he was devoid of passion for a project he’d created from the start?

“Have you made any progress with Foxwood yet?” Dad asked.

She stifled a sigh. She’d already told him she wasn’t over the dang estate. Why was that so difficult for him to accept?

“No,” she said, “but the festival has been coming along nicely.”

He didn’t respond. Winnie glanced to the window, rain dribbling down the glass, blurring most of her view. Too bad she couldn’t escape outside with the excuse of watching the knights practice their jousting astride their horses. That had been her favorite part of the job so far, observing both man and animal working hard, living their best lives as horse and rider.

That had once been Winnie, feeling that same satisfaction back when she used to ride. All before it had been snatched from her fingertips after a simple mistake.

“So what changes have you made?” Mom asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Winnie cleared her mind of her past, then mentioned a few of the alterations she’d made, but she didn’t go into more detail than that. Why bore everyone—and why disappoint Dad—any longer?

“Well, that sounds amazing,” Mom responded. “You seem to be doing a fabulous job.”

“Which is a good thing,” Spencer quipped. “If you want to keep any job, you have to prove that you’re good.”

“Which, of course, she will,” Sarah added.

Winnie sent a smile of gratitude to her sister which she knew Sarah would know was for her. Then Spencer’s words hit Winnie in a way she knew he hadn’t been intending.

Did she want to keep this job? Not specifically the job at Foxwood, but her job as a consultant altogether. She’d only ever kept it because Dad wanted her to, not because she enjoyed it.

The thought gnawed on her mind, just as Matthew’s words had about passion and heart, incessant and unyielding, like a rat chewing through a wall.

She’d lived in an apartment once that had housed a rat. She’d moved out of the complex the very next day—and she’d quit the teaching program soon after that.

She could still hear Dad’s words when he found out what she’d done. “You have a name to uphold, Winnie. Stop being a disappointment and start sticking to your commitments.”

That was the exact reason she couldn’t fail at Foxwood—nor quit the festival. And it was the exact reason she had to remain a consultant.

“How are the Wintours?” Dad asked. “Is working with them difficult?”

Winnie hesitated. “No, for the most part they’re great. I’m only struggling a bit with Matthew. He’s the⁠—”

The door opened, cutting off Winnie’s words. She looked up in surprise, expecting to be caught by one of the Wintours’ household, but when Matthew himself walked in, all broad-shouldered, bearded, and curly-haired, shock struck through her limbs and pulled her heart straight down to the floor.

Oh, boy, was she in trouble if he’d heard her.

Matthew remained standing still in the doorway, staring at Winnie in surprise. Obviously, he hadn’t expected to see her there, otherwise he would have never come in.

After his conversation with her in the assembly hall and her slamming down his request to keep history at the center of the event, he’d realized then and there that she didn’t really care about the festival. What she cared about was the money. And while that initial knowledge hurt, he had since learned to accept it. He couldn’t deny the woman’s tenacity and competence in being able to accomplish the tasks she’d set about. Her sheer determination was admirable, if not annoying. But ultimately, when her ideas would undoubtedly fail in the coming weeks, she’d have only herself to blame.

He took a step back from the room, ready to withdraw instead of being forced to carry on an obligatory cordial conversation with her, but when he took note of Winnie’s deer-in-the-headlights look, he paused.

She looked absolutely stunned. Embarrassed, even. As if…as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been doing.

Suddenly, he had the strong desire to stay and see just exactly what she was up to.