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Leah swallowed hard as she made her way down the staircase. As promised, Mr. Markham was alone in the drawing room. Had he arranged that? The drawing room wasn’t usually empty in a house full of fifty guests.

Leah curtsied. “Good morning, Mr. Markham.” Her throat was dry as she took in the eager expression on his face.

“Good morning, Miss Sterling.” He smiled, revealing his overlapped two front teeth. “I hope you are not otherwise engaged this morning.”

Leah paused, her heart pounding fast with dread. He was a kind and handsome man; she had nothing against him besides her own heart’s demands. But she knew, deep in her bones, that he wasn’t the match for her. She would regret allowing him to continue thinking otherwise.

“Unfortunately, I am.” She looked down at the floor before gathering the courage to meet his gaze. “I would not presume to make assumptions regarding your intentions, Mr. Markham, but I feel I ought to tell you that I am no longer in a position to encourage our acquaintance. I am sorry if I have given you reason to believe otherwise. I—I should not wish to take up any more of your time.”

His features slackened, his lips dropping to a straight line. “Is it Mr. Hawthorne?”

“What?” Her cheeks burned.

“It isn’t fair.” His voice was gruff with frustration. “He has an advantage being here at the house with you constantly.”

Leah should have known his competitive nature would spill into his pursuit of her. But she refused to confirm his suspicions, especially with the way his anger already seemed to have escalated.

“I thank you for coming all this way to see me,” she said in a calm voice. “You are a very respectable man, and I wish you joy and prosperity in the new year.”

He let out a slow breath, his nose twitching. “I wish you the same, Miss Sterling.”

Their acquaintance had been brief enough that she felt she owed him no further explanation. With a final curtsy, she turned away, relief lending a welcome lightness to her feet as she climbed the stairs to her bedchamber. Whatever Katherine might say, Leah had every intention of remaining there until dinner.

In the drawing room, Leah sipped on her tea, the hot liquid burning her throat. She stared at the window, the reflection of the candles flickering all around her on the dark surface. Her nerves were spinning too wildly to focus on anything else. She didn’t feel like socializing. Sitting across from Mr. Hawthorne at dinner once again had been torturous. There had seemed to be an awkwardness between him and Miss Benson, though Leah had tried to keep her focus elsewhere.

They would eventually have to confront the meaning of their kiss. They could easily excuse it as nothing, keep it a secret, and move forward without any further commitment. But Leah’s heart strained against that idea.

The ladies in the room mingled, and Leah found herself wishing she had focused more on her female acquaintances at Bellthorne Hall. She hadn’t formed very many deep friendships, besides with her maid, Clara. Of all the ladies in attendance, Leah preferred the company of Miss Hollis, Miss Prescott, and Lady Weymouth. Women like Miss Bowles, Miss Stroud, and Miss Benson were ones she would rather avoid, yet they sat closest to Leah near the window.

“Did Mr. Hawthorne propose yet?” Miss Bowles whispered loudly to Miss Benson.

Leah sat up straighter. She wasn’t opposed to eavesdropping, especially when the only way not to overhear would be to cover her ears.

“He did.” Miss Benson sounded bored, a sigh following her words. “But my father advised me against accepting him. His income is not equal to my aspirations.”

A gasp came from one of the ladies. “Did you reject him?”

“I was obliged to. I am far too young to settle, and I have only known him for a short time. He did seem quite disappointed.” She sighed again. “But I am content with my decision. I hope he will recover quickly from the rejection.”

Leah’s heart pounded fast, her stomach sinking. The shock that coursed through her veins quickly boiled into anger, and the cold air drifting through the window failed to cool the sudden heat on her face. After kissing her in the music room, had Mr. Hawthorne not thought to at least ask her forgiveness before running off to propose to Miss Benson?

Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she blinked hard to contain them. How could she have thought for a moment that Mr. Hawthorne would propose to her instead? He had been spending the entire house party in pursuit of someone else—an accomplished, beautiful woman who was both younger and richer than Leah. Of course he had stayed his course.

How had Leah allowed her hope to grow so out of hand? She thought she had been doing well at containing it, but the distance and strength with which her heart had just fallen suggested otherwise.

Miss Bowles’ laughter rang out as she continued whispering to Miss Benson. The men would be rejoining them soon, so the ladies seemed determined to get all their gossip out of the way before they arrived.

Leah remained in her solitary chair, eager to avoid the need to converse politely. Her head was light, her stomach in knots. She wanted to retire to her bedchamber, but she had never been good at feigning illness.

A few minutes later, Mr. Hawthorne walked into the room with the other men. Leah looked away fast, turning her attention back to the dark window. She watched his reflection as he found a chair at the back of the room.

She tried to quiet the turmoil in her chest by reminding herself that no harm had been done to her reputation. No one knew what had happened in the library. She had been foolish to imagine Mr. Hawthorne might attach any significance to their kiss. To him, it had likely been nothing more than a thoughtless moment of passion—one he regretted now, perhaps even wished had never occurred.

Some of the guests played the games Lady Dalmeer had prepared for them that evening, starting with charades. Leah was distracted enough not to notice the details of that game, nor the one after it, even when the round of bullet pudding resulted in one gentleman’s face being covered in flour.

Laughter and merriment continued all around her, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness in her chest.

She offered Katherine a hasty excuse before slipping quietly from the room.