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Leah took a step away. “Plenty,” she said, keeping her voice composed. She hurried away from Mr. Hawthorne’s side, and this time, he didn’t follow her.

After they had gathered an excessive amount of greenery, acorns, pinecones, and other pieces of nature they might use in their decorating, the group made their way back to the house. In the corridor, Katherine tugged Leah aside into an alcove with a tall window.

“Mr. Hawthorne was very attentive,” she whispered. “He is clearly interested in you. You must encourage him.”

Leah sighed. She hadn’t wanted to involve Katherine, but it appeared she had no choice. “He is only pretending.”

“What?”

“Yes.” Leah hardly knew where to begin with her explanation. “I told you once about Mr. Gilbert Davies, did I not?”

“The man you nearly married?”

Nearly might have been an exaggeration, but Leah nodded. She would have married him, had he asked. “Mr. Hawthorne was his friend. He was the man who convinced Mr. Davies not to propose.”

Katherine gasped, covering her lips with her gloved fingers. “Why would he be pretending to be interested in you now?”

“Well…” Leah interlocked her fingers, biting her lower lip as she considered how much of her own wrongdoings to confess. “He is trying to thwart my efforts at marriage once again. His actions today were only meant to drive Mr. Newton away.”

Katherine’s brows lifted. “What an odious man!”

“Yes. Odious.” Leah’s mind carried her back to the moment he had threaded his fingers in her hair, his intent eyes focused on hers. She banished the thought, appalled that it had even come.

“Why on earth would he do that?” Katherine asked.

Leah sniffed, avoiding her cousin’s gaze. “Odious men do odious things.” She skirted away before she could confess to her own schemes. Katherine would surely tell her to stop…but she was enjoying herself far too much. And how could she stop after Mr. Hawthorne’s actions that day?

She certainly couldn’t allow him to have the last word. No, indeed.

She had a bit of revenge to plan.

Nine

Felix wished the winter gardens were nicer to look at, but at the moment they mostly consisted of dull brown shrubbery, the gray sky dulling the colors even further. Fortunately, there was the occasional spot of green ivy or winter jasmine to bring beauty to the scene.

And Miss Benson, of course.

She held his arm gingerly as she stepped over a patch of old, dirty snow. They had just begun their walk from the outer doors of the saloon a few minutes before, and her maid trailed behind as their chaperone. They had little time before they would have to return to the house to begin decorating their assigned rooms, but he would use every second he could to learn more about her.

But where to begin?

He scoured his mind for something to ask her, but he was slightly overwhelmed by the possibilities. He had never courted with such a firm intention to marry.

“Tell me about your family,” he said.

There. That seemed like a good place to start.

Miss Benson’s voice was soft and polite as she told him about her parents and two brothers. “And George is the youngest. He makes trouble more often than anything.”

“Ah, a mischief-maker?”

“The very definition. An incorrigible one.” Miss Benson laughed.

Felix led her toward the bridge that spanned the river. In the distance, he saw two women crossing at the same time from the other side. In an instant, he recognized them.

Miss Sterling and Lady Cartright.

He froze. He refused to believe that it was a coincidence that Miss Sterling was out for a walk at the same frigid hour of the day as he had planned to be with Miss Benson.