She stood on her toes and brushed her lips against his cheek. Time froze as a long-forgotten memory assaulted him. She was standing on her toes then too and kissing him. But not his cheek. Because he’d seen what she was going to do and at the last instant had turned his head. She’d been his princess, and he was her knight. Wasn’t he supposed to kiss her after saving her from a dragon?
Except he hadn’t really saved her from anything. He’d made things easier for her in the short term, countering her mother’s anger and giving Leah a safe haven. But in the end, he’d failed her. They all had, until Lady Norcott had come and truly rescued her.
“Are you happy?” he blurted.
She settled back to her normal height, her brow creasing. “Yes. Why?”
“It’s important that you’re happy.”
“I am.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Truly. But seeing my father makes me… Well, it doesn’t make me feel good. I probably shouldn’t have come back to Marrywell.”
“You didn’t have a choice. You go where your employer goes.”
“Come on, you need to find Mr. Armstrong so you can tell him about the folly.” She took his arm again, and his breath caught.
He looked over at her to see if she noticed. It didn’t appear so. What was wrong with him?
“I’m so sorry that happened,” she went on. “But I’m sure you’ll get it back to the way it looked when your grandfather had it built.” She gave him an encouraging smile that made him feel anything but encouraged.
How could he fix the folly without funds? His grandfather would be so disappointed to see this. He would have made sure it was repaired before the end of the festival.
That was the worst part—feeling as though Phin had let his grandfather down. He would do anything to make the man proud, even though he was gone. The gardens were his legacy, and Phin owed it to him to do whatever necessary to keep them as beautiful and useful as he’d intended them to be.
“I’m afraid I need to get back to the New Inn,” Leah said. “Mrs. Selkirk will wonder why my short walk took so long.”
Phin hoped that didn’t remind Leah of her mother. Leah had always been worried she was away too long, and he’d hate to think of her reliving that fear now. But Phin couldn’t imagine that Mrs. Selkirk would compare to her mother. If she did, there was no way Leah would work for her. Unless she didn’t have a choice…
Don’t borrow trouble, Gran would say. Leah said she was happy.
“I’ll walk you back,” Phin said, escorting her onto the High Street and steering her toward her lodgings.
He ought to try to see Miss Selkirk, to hopefully position himself as her primary suitor, but he needed to find the mayor. He’d press his suit tonight.
When they reached the New Inn, Leah took her hand from his arm and thanked him once more. “I’ll see you tonight?”
“Yes. Save me a dance.”
Her lips curled into a brilliant smile. “I will.”
“And tell Miss Selkirk to do the same. The first one, if she’ll allow it.” That would give him the best chance before she was swept away by other, perhaps more alluring gentlemen. Would a young lady from London like her even be interested in a country squire like him?
“I’ll tell her.” Leah turned and walked through the yard to the inn.
Phin frowned. This plan could very well fail. Mrs. Selkirk had made a comment about watching out for fortune hunters, which he was. He’d have to find a way to be more than that. He could woo Miss Selkirk. They already had music in common, and there were bound to be other things. Did she like horticulture? Would she want to spend time with him in the greenhouse?
He couldn’t help but think of Leah. Too bad she wasn’t an heiress. Wait, really? Could he actually think of her in that manner?
After recalling that forgotten kiss from their youth, he wondered if he just might.
Chapter 8
“There is our maiden fair!” Mrs. Selkirk exclaimed the next day when Genevieve stepped into the sitting room from the bedchamber she shared with Leah. While Genevieve had nervously walked to the dais last night upon being chosen as a maiden fair, Mrs. Selkirk had practically leapt with joy. She’d hardly stopped smiling since and had even been pleasant to Leah for the rest of the evening. “That walking dress is marvelous. And I’m glad we decided on the coral spencer.”
Genevieve folded her hands over her chest, pouting. “I think it makes me look sallow.”
Mrs. Selkirk waved her hand. “Nonsense, it makes you look radiant.”
Rolling her eyes, Genevieve muttered, “I hate all this attention, and if I wear a color that makes me appear as though I have jaundice, I’ll only have more of it.”
Leah felt bad that Genevieve was uncomfortable. Last night before bed, she’d said how much she disliked being on the dais, having a throne, wearing a crown, and having to dance with all eyes on her.
Genevieve’s disquiet was, in Leah’s opinion, a tad ironic given Genevieve’s fixation on reading gossip about others. But perhaps that was why she didn’t want to be a maiden fair—she knew what awaited her as one who would attract focus and, almost certainly, gossip.
Mrs. Selkirk smiled gleefully as she rose from her chair. “You will attract more gentlemen on our promenade than flowers do bees.”
“Do I really need to attract more gentlemen?” Genevieve asked sullenly. “I danced with so many last night.”
“Yes, and today you need to show them encouragement.” Mrs. Selkirk lowered her voice as if she were sharing a secret. In their private suite. Where no one could hear them. “I heard an earl arrived late last night.”
“A title would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?” Mrs. Dunhill mused from the settee. “Too bad there aren’t any more…mature peers present. Though I suppose if there were, they’d be looking at Genevieve and other young belles like her.”
“Perhaps a young peer might be drawn to you,” Leah said.
Mrs. Selkirk sniffed. “Pish. That is highly unlikely.”
Leah noted the flash of annoyance in Mrs. Dunhill’s gaze. Turning the topic away from her, Leah said, “I heard there’s an heir to a viscountcy here as well.”