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How had she known?

He continued warily across the bridge, approaching the two women with as much confidence as he could muster. Miss Sterling’s complexion was rosy, her lips red against the winter landscape. Her sneaky expression was hidden well behind a polite smile, but her eyes danced with amusement.

He wanted to tell Miss Benson that he knew an incorrigible mischief-maker even worse than her brother, but he didn’t have the chance.

“Mr. Hawthorne, how fortunate we are to have stumbled upon you!” Miss Sterling exclaimed. “I must make haste to the house, but would you be so kind as to escort Lady Cartright back? She is a little unsteady on the ice.”

Felix hadn’t encountered even a shred of ice on his walk, but Lady Cartright was already looking at him expectantly. She was not quite aged enough to pass as a frail elderly woman, but he already knew she wouldn’t object to Miss Sterling’s request.

Felix almost laughed at his own misfortune. He would have expected to be upset by Miss Sterling’s interference, but the look of triumph on her face sent a surge of amusement through his chest. Her lips quivered at the edges, as if she were also suppressing a smile.

“What is this urgent matter that calls you back to the house?” Felix asked calmly.

Miss Sterling’s eyes flickered away. Had he confounded her?

“I apologize, but I have no time to explain,” she said in a quick voice. Continuing her charade, she rushed past him with a quick ‘thank you,’ before making her way back toward the house alone. Whatever was so urgently calling her back inside was surely fabricated as part of her scheme.

Miss Benson released his elbow, making room for Lady Cartright. She held his upper arm with both hands, giving it a soft squeeze on occasion as they made their way back to the house. She walked slower than any creature Felix had ever encountered, stopping to remark on each bush and tree they passed. Miss Benson remained close, walking with her maid, though Lady Cartright rarely stopped talking.

Felix’s mind wandered back to Miss Sterling. He fought a smile of disbelief. How did she manage to orchestrate such a wicked scheme? He was becoming aware of his own lack of talent.

He envisioned her brown eyes, dancing with mischief and amusement, and her pretty mouth brimming with some harshly candid comment or another. And the way she had darted off like the hounds of Hades were after her all to make a convincing display… Surely she was laughing in the saloon, watching from the window. She was ridiculous, but fascinating.

He halted his thoughts, confused by the direction they were heading.

“What a fine and strong arm, you have, Mr. Hawthorne. I could hold it all day.” Lady Cartright gave a breathy laugh.

Oh, would Miss Sterling pay dearly for this.

Felix would stay alert to any opportunity to take his turn at their game. At the moment, he felt very much like he was losing. He hoped Miss Benson didn’t feel neglected, but his mind—and his arm—were heavily occupied the entire way back to the house.

Leah had a perfect view of the winter gardens from the window in the saloon, as well as Lady Cartright’s slow gait and crimson bonnet. She and Mr. Hawthorne snaked their way through every single pathway and past every bush of the gardens. Leah knew she could depend on the woman to savor every moment she had with Mr. Hawthorne.

How trusting he had been to mention his walk with Miss Benson.

How foolish, really.

After calling Clara to help her get dressed that morning, Leah had slipped out of her bedchamber and down to the morning room. The Christmas Eve plans involved decorating their assigned rooms later that day, so Leah had assumed that Mr. Hawthorne’s walk with Miss Benson would take place in the morning.

She had found Lady Cartright on the settee, embroidery hoop in hand. It hadn’t taken much cajoling at all to convince the woman to take a walk with her, especially when Leah had mentioned seeing a few of the gentlemen out that morning on horseback. Lady Cartright did enjoy a man on horseback, as she had stated twice at dinner the night before.

Leaning her hands on the windowsill, Leah enjoyed her view of Lady Cartright and Mr. Hawthorne for several minutes. She covered her mouth to stifle a laugh as Lady Cartright seemed to tug Mr. Hawthorne down a fork in the path.

His gaze lifted to the window, and for a moment, Leah wondered if he could see her. Was he amused? Or angry? She was sure she would find out when they decorated the music room that day.

She could hardly wait.

A man cleared his throat aggressively behind her.

She jumped, turning in one swift motion.

Mr. Woodward stood just inside the door, fingers twisting together. “Forgive me, Miss Sterling. I hoped to make a little noise so as not to frighten you, but it doesn’t seem to have worked.” He gave an apologetic smile. His tall frame hunched slightly, as if he felt he was taking up too much space in the room.

Leah laughed. “I think I am overly skittish.”

“I think you are just skittish enough. The perfect amount of skittish, I daresay.” His words tumbled out awkwardly, but he still smiled, adjusting the arms of his spectacles.

“Why, thank you,” she said with a smile. “You have put me entirely at ease.” She hoped she could do the same for him. He looked nervous, his weight shifting from one foot to the other.