On one snowy morning of our scheduled outing a week later, I opened my door to a cup hanging in my face.

"Drink this. Quickly. Before it cools. It'll keep you warm."

I was sure to close my door before I held the tin cup in my hands.

Mason's expectant eyes watched me, so I took a sip. It was rather sweet but I persevered.

It was only when I decided to thank him that I realized he was so close.

Right forearm resting on the door, he brushed my hair from my right eye. I was too stunned to move when he traced the red line of the birthmark on my face.

"It's actually rather charming. You should wear your hair up."

My face heated, and not for any sort of flattery.

"Must you do that?"

He leaned in and asked, "Do what?"

"Bring attention to it, stroke my face whenever the mood strikes you."

"But you never complain when I touch your left cheek," he countered.

I had no rebuttal. Instead, I tried to remember when he'd touch my face so intimately.

He observed my behavior correctly. "You don't like my gift? My grandmother'd always said it keeps us warm and fit. Drink it before we go back out into the cold. You really frightened me before with how ill you were."

Though my heart was still cross, it wasn't my way to deny proper gentlemanly efforts.

Last night, Angelique slept here to make our date today much easier. One consequence of my previous illness was Mason's behavior toward me. He hardly hid his interest anymore.

Now, he was making me things at random while waiting at my door? That was unacceptable.

He boxed me in, however, saying, "It's for your own good and we can't go unless you drink it."

The tone of his voice held more concern than anger, so I let out a sigh and tilted my head back to drink.

"Slowly," he warned.

Once I was finished, he eased off the wall and took back the cup. The logical course of action was that he'd let me pass but that was not how things unfolded.

In fact, he stared into the cup as he muttered under his breath, "I want to clarify some things about—about—about that person. Her being here doesn't change the way I feel about you. My mother's up to this, I know it. But I'll give you all my attention today, you and Lana. I've set a plan in motion."

It was me looking at that cup next, anything to hide my guilt. Lana and I? Not if I could help it.

He studied my clothes and said, "Will you wear yet another sweater?"

"I'm fine," I insisted. "Please let me pass."

While carrying the cup with the intent to wash it, I set off. Mason hurried after me and moved with me for quite a ways. I wasn't sure what he was up to but nothing he did surprised me any longer. I'd resolved to ignore him but he timed my strides well and snatched the cup from me.

I gave chase. "You'll just make a mess of the kitchen."

"It's one cup!" he protested.

"I do not care. You cannot be trusted, even with the one."

My intent was to take back the cup with my speed but he stopped at the top of the stairs and caught me when I collided with him.

His height meant I couldn't retrieve the cup but I simply had to. Natural disaster Mason couldn't be allowed to step foot into that kitchen at any given moment.

He held the cup over my head and as I jumped, he passed it to the other hand.

This would go on for ages if I didn't put a stop to it.

Finally, I stepped closer to him, my hands on his chest. "If you don't give it here...." His heart beat erratic under my fingertips. I slipped my fingers into his vest pocket and retrieved his watch. "I won't give this back."

As anticipated, he still hadn't attached it for the morning.

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The way his lips parted confused me but the cup lowered and I snatched it.

Victorious, I turned to make my way down but missed the top step and screamed.

What happened next was perplexing for a number of reasons. Somehow, I found myself on stable footing as I watched Mason fall backwards down the spiral staircase.

"Oh no!"

"You...." With each grunt, I winced with him until he came to a stop. "Ow!"

The cup in hand, I stomped down to find him flat on his back.

"Oh no! Oh no. Are you all right?"

Tears filled his eyes as he shook his head. "Even when I give you a gift, you injure me."

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

In my haste, I slipped and he sat up and caught me. He was careful in setting me down to sit.

"This is so unlike you to be this clumsy. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I should ask you that." After setting the cup on the floor, I prodded his chest then sides. "Can you move?"

"Miss! Not out in the open like this," he teased.

"Oh! Why do I even worry about you?" I managed to get to my feet as the rest of the family hurried to see what the matter was.

Mason was content to lie there looking pitiful until one voice gasped the loudest and closed in.

"Oh, Mason! Are you hurt?"

On his feet in record time, Mason took the cup. "I'll wash this."

And then he was gone...into the kitchen.

I simply had to give chase.

Two minutes later, I'd snatched the cup back and shoved Mason into the dining room. "If you're good, I'll take more care with your coffee," I promised.

He squinted, doubtful. "And you'll make it this time?"

I blushed. "Yes, of course."

But when the time came to make it, I instructed Angelique. She...was awful. Every measurement I gave her, she scoffed and put an 'estimated' amount.

Mason was slowly losing patience, so I shoved Angelique aside, threw out the less-than-perfect cup of coffee and made it myself. Then I handed her the cup and tray and instructed her to go to work.

With that business done, I sat down with the cook who saved me my breakfast here. It was best if Angelique had more time with them, especially with Lana. The little girl, who was usually quite pleasant, hated Angelique far more than even Mason.

Five whole minutes must have passed without any missteps, so I felt confident. My confusion totaled when Mason popped his head through the door and asked, "What's keeping you? Are you unwell?"

I looked up from my plate. "Well...no, I...I'd thought it best if you all could dine together."

Mason's cheerful expression dissolved. "Has she said something to you? Has Mother said something to you?"

But before I could answer, he marched back into the dining room.

I nearly resembled him as I rushed to intercept him. My feet took me to the dining room before he could address his mother and I threw myself down into the chair beside Angelique.

Pity did not come to me easily but I felt sorry for Mason when he sat and tried to eat his now tepid food. Even the coffee was untouched.

This wasn't working. Angelique was too stubborn to teach. Better if I'd done everything in secret at first and let her take the credit. But now that she'd made a mess so often, he was simply annoyed with her being here.

Something had to be done.

My only thoughts were of Mason's comfort as I picked up the full cup of coffee and went to make some more. Once I returned, he muttered his appreciation and began to eat.

Even his utensil placement was wrong. I stood and corrected the issue. And she'd brought him heavy cream this early. Oh, everything was a mess.

By the time I'd rearranged and changed out most of the food before him, he sat up with a pleased expression but no one else was smiling.

In fact, they all eyed me as if I'd committed some unspoken sin.

"Oh, the governess is so tenacious. Isn't she just so tenacious, Angelique dear?" asked the duchess.

The lady in question kept her eyes on her food as she ate. We readied ourselves and decided on using two carriages. Mason had plans and would meet us later on horseback.

Lana rode with her mother. That gave me time to get to know my new charge.

The carriage bobbed along but we needed a sounder plan. That was difficult as she refused to listen to my instructions. She was dressed nicely today, too. Her thick curls made for a beautiful bun. Her neck sported a subtle choker. The makeup for her eyes and lips were sound. Today, her dark blue dress brought out her blue eyes. Overall, she should have been an easy assignment. That was not the case.

"You know," she said without prompting, "no one can find a perfect match twice."

With my hair blocking my right eye, I could only focus on her with my left.

I forced myself to appear interested. "Have you found a perfect match?"

She hesitated then looked out the window.

Mason.

After I considered her words, I confessed, "You two do make a handsome pair. He's a bit simple but sweet."

"Simple?" Her head whipped around to face me. "What do you mean by simple? He's absolutely brilliant."

Something about the way she smiled made me uneasy. I puzzled about the reason for so long I'd forgotten to breathe. Finally, I understood—she had an advantage. She knew him better than I.

I didn't know why that troubled my spirit. I was trying to help her catch his interest. So what if she knew a side of him I did not?

Hand on her knee, I promised, "We will get him to forgive you. I've near killed him on several occasions and he's forgiven me each time."

Angelique squinted at me and I smiled. Her sudden laughter surely spooked the horses.

"You aren't at all as I'd expected."

"Oh?"

Eyes on the window again, she sat back. "How is it you are living in the same house as Mason and haven't fallen madly in love with him?"

Perhaps it was a valid question. I didn't see a reason to answer it but she was looking for one.

I decided to be honest. "I had not seen anything brilliant about him. To me, he was simply a bigger child to care for."

Angelique raised an eyebrow. Finally, she leaned forward and asked, "And now that you know he fancies you?"

"I do not think that's true," I told her. "It was after you left that I came along. I do believe he may have cast all his feelings for you towards me. Therefore, we need only get them properly recalibrated yet again."

We arrived at the scheduled location in good time. The carriage door opened, surprisingly me with the sight of Mason who held out his hand.

I was sure to allow Angelique to go first but she overtook me before I could make the offer.

Mason avoided her by stepping aside. Someone else took his place.

Gregor held out his hand for Angelique who recoiled at the sight of him.

After a short hesitation, Angelique allowed him to help her step out. They walked off and I, prepared to find my own way unaided, flinched when Mason returned to the carriage door and held out his hand.

When I took his offer, our eyes met and my blood ran cold. he looked smug. He'd done this on purpose. Whatever I had planned for Mason and Angelique, he had his own helper in his friend.

This was bad.