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Lady Weymouth gave an amused smile. “That is up to you to decide. You might discover that you can have both.”

Leah gave a slow nod. “That is what one would hope.” She smiled, but her lips felt heavy. Marriage often promised security, but not happiness. Perhaps she could grow to love a man like Mr. Markham. Surely he was deserving of it, but so was Leah. Her heart pounded. When had she become such a romantic? Suddenly it seemed that her dreams of love were overshadowing her dreams of Switzerland.

They reached the music room, and Lady Weymouth gave her back the other half of the books. “Enjoy your reading, Miss Sterling.”

Leah thanked her and bid her farewell before slipping into the quiet room. She was relieved to find it empty. She pulled a green velvet chair to the window as well as one of the pianoforte benches, setting her books on the surface as she settled into her chair.

Flurries of snow spiraled down from the sky, blanketing the grounds of the estate beyond the window. For a long moment, Leah simply watched the snow, her mind drifting back to the night she had drawn silhouettes with Mr. Hawthorne.

And the night she had kissed him.

She rested her elbow on the windowsill, her chin in her hand. Why were her interactions with Mr. Markham not so worthy of her constant reflection?

The music room door creaked. She turned toward it, and her heart leaped. As if her thoughts had summoned him, Mr. Hawthorne stood in the doorway.

She had left the door partially open, so he must have seen her as he passed in the corridor. His hair was the color of the roasted chestnuts from the village fete, his eyes dark. He dipped his head with a smile as he stepped further into the room. “I heard you carried off with half the library.” He threw a look at the pile of books.

Leah sat up straighter. At the sight of him, her chest tightened, a wave of nervousness swooping through her stomach. “Where did you hear that?”

“I passed Lady Dalmeer in the corridor.” He came forward and drew another of the green velvet chairs to the window, positioning it opposite Leah’s. As he settled into it, his knees brushed hers.

She cast him a sideways glance. “Did she invite you to join me, or should I?”

He laughed. She liked the way his laughter burst out of him rather than came gradually.

“Does this require an invitation?” He tipped his head to one side as he regarded her seriously. “We don’t stand on ceremony any longer, do we?”

She pressed her lips together with a thoughtful look. “I don’t believe we ever did.”

“You did barge into my bedchamber your first day here.” He raised an eyebrow. “Without invitation.”

“Is that why you are here now without invitation?”

He paused, studying her face. “I will leave you if you wish to be alone.”

“No—” The word came out too quickly. “No, I am content.”

His smile softened at the corners. “Good.”

Leah held his gaze for a few seconds before looking out the window again. Her heart beat a little faster than usual. She had been anticipating seeing Mr. Hawthorne and spending time with him again, but now that he was here, she was at a loss for words.

She hated how she had been craving his company and attention. Neither belonged to her, she reminded herself. Miss Benson was the one who claimed most of his time, and Leah could not allow herself to forget it, no matter how intently he watched her now. She kept her eyes fixed beyond the window, acutely aware of his gaze on the side of her face.

“You really should have warned me about this storm,” she said, turning toward him again. “I was on a walk this afternoon when the snow drove me inside.”

His lips curved. “My apologies. I didn’t see you at breakfast. Otherwise, I would have given you my reading of the clouds.”

She smiled. “That might have been one kindness too many. I wouldn’t have recognized you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You already gave me your gingerbread at the fete,” she said. “You saved me from a great deal of embarrassment.”

His gaze dropped as he shook his head. “It was nothing. I’m glad I happened to have what you were looking for.”

“You missed an opportunity, you know. You could have wrapped anything in that paper. I would have been none the wiser if you had caused me to unwrap a slice of ham instead.”

Mr. Hawthorne leaned his head back with a laugh. “I’m not as clever as you are. But I must point out that you didn’t interfere with my time with Miss Benson either. I trust that if you had wanted to, you would have.”