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Leah interlocked her fingers in her lap, feeling suddenly shy. “I didn’t think it necessary. Is it possible that we have formed a truce?”

Mr. Hawthorne leaned forward and smiled. “We have been frightfully supportive of one another of late.”

“Does that make us friends?” she asked with a lifted eyebrow.

His smile weakened, and he leaned back in his chair. He didn’t seem to like her suggestion, but he nodded anyway. “I suppose.”

“Perhaps we might even help each other with our pursuits,” she suggested.

He seemed even more displeased, a wrinkle appearing in his brow. “That may be beyond my capabilities.”

“Why?” she teased. “Do you not like Mr. Markham?”

“I don’t know the man.”

“But surely you have formed an opinion of him, nonetheless.”

Mr. Hawthorne sighed. “Are you certain you want to know what I think of him?”

Leah nodded.

“I think his coat is far too large.”

She laughed, a light snort escaping with the sound. “I meant your opinion of his character.”

Mr. Hawthorne’s eyes widened in sincerity. “You can learn a lot about a man from his coat.”

“You are being far too harsh!” She shifted forward, gripping the sides of her chair.

He shook his head with a smile. “You begged me to tell you my opinion, and I have. In truth, I think I am not being harsh enough.”

Leah managed to hide her amusement. “Oh? Do you have more to say?”

“I’m very glad that you called me kind a moment ago. I should like to keep that title.”

Leah narrowed her eyes. “Are you judging him for how quickly he ate the gingerbread?”

“You noticed that too?”

A laugh burst out of her, and she raised one hand in defense. “You must know that I ate mine nearly as quickly…and the entire square at that.”

Mr. Hawthorne chuckled. “Miss Benson refused to try even a single bite.”

Leah examined his expression. Did he find it endearing? She couldn’t tell. “How strange.”

Mr. Hawthorne eyed her suspiciously. “You are so defensive of Mr. Markham, but I know you don’t like Miss Benson.”

“That isn’t true.” She shook her head. “Upon further reflection, I think the two of you look quite perfect together.”

Mr. Hawthorne’s gaze lowered to the floor, but he said nothing.

“Will you not accept my compliment?” Leah teased. Her tone was light, but she felt her pulse thrumming at the base of her throat.

Mr. Hawthorne’s mouth twitched toward a painstaking smile. “It doesn’t feel like a compliment coming from you.”

Leah swallowed. “I meant it in earnest.”

“I know. Thank you.”