Page 44

“I do think the cheese roll looks amusing.” Miss Benson’s voice drifted up to Felix’s ears. “I would not object to participating.”

Leah’s wheel of cheese toppled over just short of Mr. Markham’s.

“Drat,” she muttered.

He roared in victory, jumping up and down in a gleeful circle, his large coat spinning like the skirts of a gown.

It was an image she most certainly could have lived without.

“I did tell you I would win this game, did I not?” Mr. Markham exclaimed with a wide smile. “Now you owe me half of your gingerbread.”

Leah’s laugh came out awkwardly. How could she tell him that she had already eaten the entire thing? She had forgotten about the bargain they had made to split the gingerbread at the beginning of the fete, and now the whole square was tucked away in her stomach.

Her mind had been darting out of focus all morning. She had been fighting with all her energy not to pay any mind to Mr. Hawthorne and Miss Benson, but she was still well aware of where they stood.

She had truly enjoyed his company the night before, and their feelings of ill-will toward one another seemed to have calmed. The idea of sabotaging him again was tempting, but she didn’t have the heart. At any rate, she could hardly distinguish whether she was motivated by a desire for retaliation or simply a desire not to see him with Miss Benson.

She was better off keeping her distance.

Mr. Markham needed to be her sole focus. He was kind, attentive, and standing beside her now. Or rather—leaping beside her. He was still celebrating his victory, watching as a few others rolled their cheese wheels down the field. Distracted as he was, Leah considered darting back to the booths to purchase some more gingerbread.

Would he notice if she moved quickly enough?

Leah turned, wondering how quickly she might manage the journey there and back, when she caught sight of Mr. Hawthorne approaching with Miss Benson practically affixed to his arm, as though she meant never to relinquish it. A challenge gleamed in her eyes as she took in Leah from head to toe, but her lips were curved in a polite smile.

How did she manage to wear so many expressions at once?

Leah had thought Miss Bowles to be the most conniving woman at the party, but Miss Benson was far more secretive about it. It was obvious that Miss Benson welcomed Mr. Hawthorne’s attention for how difficult she was to deter. She seemed to have set her heart on him…or at least her mind.

Leah greeted them both with a smile. “I see you have found the source of true amusement,” she said, addressing them both rather than singling out one or the other. “I hadn’t realized cheese could serve so many purposes.”

Mr. Hawthorne smiled. “I was just as ignorant to its versatility.”

Leah’s throat felt dry as she studied his face beside Miss Benson’s. They were both exceedingly handsome people, and they looked very well together. Her stomach sank.

Perhaps lending her support to the match would be more beneficial than trying to ruin it. The sooner Mr. Hawthorne made his intentions known to Miss Benson, the sooner Leah could rid her thoughts of him.

“That is a lovely bonnet, Miss Benson,” Leah said. If her kindness could dilute the venom she felt exuding from the woman, that was a good place to start.

Miss Benson seemed to soften a little, her guard visibly lowering. “Thank you. May I ask for your advice on how best to do this? I have never rolled a wheel of cheese before.”

“I’m afraid I’m not the one to ask. I lost terribly.” Leah paused, lowering her voice. “I have found myself in a plight. I owe Mr. Markham some of my gingerbread as part of a bargain, but I forgot and already ate the entire square.”

Miss Benson raised her eyebrows, as if eating an entire square of gingerbread was an unladylike abomination. If it was, then Mr. Markham could potentially share that opinion. Leah had only seconds remaining, she guessed, that he would be distracted by the game. She would have to make her confession soon.

Mr. Hawthorne reached in his jacket, his eyes lifting to meet Leah’s as he withdrew a wrapped square. “Offer him mine. He will never know.”

She held his gaze. She couldn’t speak freely with Miss Benson listening, but she wanted to ask if he had tampered with the gingerbread somehow, lacing it with excess salt…or something worse. Surely Mr. Hawthorne wasn’t helping her remain in good standing with her suitor, was he? Had her kindness toward Miss Benson solidified their truce? Her heart pounded as she hovered over her decision.

“Take it,” Mr. Hawthorne encouraged. His brown eyes were serious, which was rare.

Leah finally complied, and the moment the bread left his hand, he looked away to conceal his involvement.

She should have thanked him, but it was too late.

Mr. Markham sauntered back to her side, eyes glowing with mirth. He cast her an inquisitive look. “Well, then. Hand it over.”

Leah laughed. “Half a square of gingerbread is hardly prize enough for your victory, but here it is, as promised.”