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Twenty-One

Ajolt of surprise shot through Felix’s chest when he glanced at the drawing room window.

Leah was gone.

He turned in his chair and searched the room, but she was nowhere in sight. “Blast it,” he muttered under his breath, sinking back in his chair. He closed his eyes, his frustration rising. When would he finally have a moment to speak with her? He had been waiting for the right opportunity, but it was evading him.

During the day, he had searched the house for Leah—the tapestry room, saloon, music room, library, and had finally come to the conclusion that she must have been in her own bedchamber. Perhaps their kiss had meant nothing to her. She might have found nothing to discuss about the situation. He had been relieved to find Mr. Markham absent at dinner, but that didn’t mean the man wouldn’t have another visit up his overly large coat sleeve.

Felix retired early as well, no longer entertained by the parlor games. Besides that, Miss Benson had been shooting glares in his direction all evening. She hadn’t taken their conversation well that morning, and she had even gone so far as to tell him that he would never find a wife as suitable as she was. He had apologized for giving her reason to hope, but he had obviously wounded her pride.

When he reached his room, he stared down at the dark yellow coverings on his bed. They had reminded him of Leah every day since the start of the house party. He never would have thought that in such a short time he could fall in love with her, but he had. He was sure of it. He was desperate to put her mind at ease—to explain his intentions so she no longer felt the need to avoid him.

But it would have to wait until morning.

Once again, Leah was nowhere to be found at breakfast. Had she stopped eating? Felix hoped he hadn’t been causing her to skip meals entirely. He gathered two Bath buns, a muffin, and a square of gingerbread from the sideboard, wrapping them in a serviette. When he did find her, he would make sure she wasn’t starving, at least. It might have been too much food, but surely that was better than too little.

He walked across the geometric marble of the entry hall, scouring the length of the antique passages, the gallery, the conservatory, and all the other rooms Leah frequented. Why was the house so blasted large? Felix was certain she was hiding away in her bedchamber again, so there was nothing left for him to do but knock on the door.

With a deep breath, he made his way up the stairs and knocked three times.

He waited, his heart in his throat.

He raised his fist to knock again, but then the door swung open. Leah stood behind it, her shoulders stiffening as she took him in. Her brown eyes rounded, her cheeks pale.

They stared at one another for a long moment before Felix found his voice. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

Leah’s eyes flickered away. “This morning?”

“You weren’t at breakfast.”

“I slept in.” She flashed a smile, but it disappeared quickly. Her hair had already been arranged, and she was dressed in a white morning dress. “Why…why were you looking for me?”

The confidence Felix had been feeling was slowly fading at the curtness of her voice. “I have been hoping to have a conversation with you.”

A crease appeared between her eyebrows. She seemed intent not to look at his face for more than a few seconds. “I hope you don’t feel any sense of obligation toward me. I am prepared to forget what happened in the library.”

Felix stepped forward, glancing over his shoulder to ensure no one was standing in the corridor. “May I come in?”

Leah’s features flashed with hesitation.

“I brought you breakfast.” He held up the buns, muffin, and gingerbread he had wrapped in the serviette. “I didn’t know if you planned to go downstairs, and I was worried the food would be cleared away before you had the chance.”

Her eyes widened. “I have made a reputation for myself, I see.”

“You don’t have to eat it all.” He smiled down at her, his heart thrumming wildly in his chest. He had missed her expressions and wit.

“What is it?” she asked, eyeing the bundle.

“It could be gingerbread, or it could be a thick slice of ham, one can never know for certain.” He had hoped to earn a laugh, but all he got was a weak smile.

Her eyes were still hesitant as she looked up at him, but she stepped aside, letting him into the room. He turned to face her, offering the bundle of food again.

“Thank you,” she muttered before crossing the room to set it on her writing desk. She glanced nervously at the door. “You shouldn’t stay here for long.”

“I know. I won’t take too much of your time. But I—” He released a quick breath, noting again the reservation in her features. The words he had been rehearsing tumbled through his head. “There was more I wished to say in the library the other day.” He took a tentative step forward. He wanted to touch her, to take her hands in his, but her arms were crossed. He couldn’t blame her for feeling reserved and nervous, but it didn’t give him hope that his feelings were returned.

His heart pounded faster, fresh nerves racing through his stomach. “Leah.” He gazed into her eyes, hoping they would serve to calm him. He had never proposed to a woman before, and it showed. Was it best to get straight to the point? He had kept her waiting long enough. “I have had a very important question on my mind, and it has been torturous these past days not to ask it.” He took a deep breath. “Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”