Dearest Diary,

A letter from Haymitch came in the morning post. Besides the usual business, he has also come down with a nasty cold that he hasn't been able to get rid of, and he requested that my mother come back as soon as is convenient so that she might give him one of her remedies. I replied that I was sorry he had been so afflicted, and that I hoped he would continue his excellent work despite his condition, but we had rather a lot of parties to attend before we may return to the Seam. Upon reading over it again, I realized he might not appreciate that sentiment. I believe I shall write another draft tomorrow.

Katniss had never before been excited at the prospect of a gentleman caller. Sitting in the drawing room of the Everdeens' rented London home, watching the hands of the clock creep closer and closer to her two o'clock commitment, surreptitiously biting her fingernails when she was certain Mother wouldn't see, all of it combined to an alien experience, and one she wasn't certain she wanted to repeat at that.

Twenty-five minutes left. She refused to merely sit and wait, and it had been made clear to her that Mother and Prim needed no help with their embroidery, so Katniss had brought down her correspondence to occupy her. Thankfully, nothing of any great importance had happened in the Seam since Haymitch's last update. He had managed some basic repairs to the roof of the manor house that ought to last the winter, though he cautioned that more a more thorough, and expensive, fix would have to be found next year.

That her most pressing concern stood an entire year in the future was surely to blame for her trouble drafting her reply. She fell into a terrible cycle: write a word or two, check the clock, stare back down at her paper and struggle to remember what point she was trying to make. Her first draft had been nothing short of dreadful and now sat in a crumpled ball next to her, which she took as an omen that the waste so integral to the top tiers of London society had rubbed off on her. Thankfully, Mother hadn't noticed yet, so intent was she on her and Prim's shared embroidery project.

"There's a gentleman here to see you," said Mary, the only servant they could afford to maintain this season.

Katniss, ignoring her mother's stare, stuffed her second draft under the seat cushions. It was rubbish anyway. "Send him in."

"He's here to see Miss Prim," Mary replied.

Before Katniss could say anything, Mother stepped in. "Yes, Mary, please send him in." She turned to Katniss. "I thought your appointment wasn't for another fifteen minutes?"

"I suppose so."

Eileen smiled, reaching over to pat her daughter's leg. "Don't worry, Katniss, Mister Mellark will be here soon enough."

She frowned. "How did you know my appointment was with Mister Mellark? I'm positive I didn't mention him." In fact, Katniss had made a point not to say that she was planning on seeing Peeta. She would already have to suffer through hours of comments and questions and encouragements after he left. No reason she should have to sit through that all morning as well.

"Don't be silly, Katniss," Prim admonished. "You've been fidgeting over there for the last hour waiting for him. Who else would you be so excited to see?"

"I'm not excited to see him, I'm impatient for –" Katniss cut herself off when she heard Mary return. Thank goodness. Though Mother almost certainly suspected, Prim knew nothing of her and Peeta's conversations, or for that matter, Katniss' interest in her suitors. Katniss intended to keep it that way.

"Good afternoon, Mister Crane. How good to see you again," Prim said in her sweetest voice.

"You as well, Miss Everdeen." His voice was slick like oil, and he held onto his s's for too long. Crane nodded to the three of them in turn. "Lady Everdeen. And, I presume, another Miss Everdeen? I don't believe we've met," he said, looking at her.

"This is my daughter, Katniss," Mother introduced her.

Katniss suppressed the chill she felt at Crane's gaze and nodded. "Pleased to meet you, Mister Crane."

"Two beautiful, charming daughters. How fortunate you are, Lady Everdeen." Katniss had never been described as charming, and she could count on one hand the number of times someone beyond her family had called her beautiful. If Crane thought he could ingratiate himself to her with compliments, he was going to have to reconsider.

"I have been blessed," Mother replied. "Would you care for some tea, Mister Crane?"

"Yes, please." With a nod from Mother, Mary was sent off for tea, and Katniss was forgotten as Crane, Prim, and Mother began the three-sided interrogation at the heart of all courting here.

Now that Prim and Mother had Crane's full attention, Katniss could examine him. This vantage point afforded her a much better view of him than she had had two days prior. He stood at least as tall as Mary, who was somewhat of a giant when compared to other women, but narrow shoulders and a sagging, almost limp posture suggested no great strength to match. She could not argue that Crane's particular combination of raven hair, brilliant blue eyes, and pale skin was anything but striking. To Katniss, though, it spoke of long days spent indoors, far away from the fields and forests of the Seam that Prim so loved.

With the tea came another suitor for Prim, and a third joined not five minutes later. Men, she had observed, tended to flock like birds, even as they argued their independent spirit. Katniss settled back into the seat cushion and watched as they jockeyed around each other, preening and posturing in hopes that they would catch Prim's eye over the others. At this point, she would be little surprised if one puffed up and danced for her the way the roosters at home did for the hens. It would make for more interesting viewing, at any rate.

The odds were not in their favor, but yet two more filed in as Katniss worked her way through the generous plate of biscuits Mary had been kind enough to leave her. Honestly, why any of them bothered to stay was beyond her. As the semicircle of men around Prim grew, Crane remained seated next to her, and while Prim's eyes danced around the others, they always settled on him. Having determined that the opposite sex had very little sense or original thought between them, Katniss was surprised when the sixth man sat himself down next to her. "Late, aren't I?" remarked Lord Hawthorne, nodding towards the gaggle of men around Prim.

"I suppose so." Katniss stole a glance towards the grandfather clock in the corner. Two-thirty. Peeta was very late. "I could have Mary fetch another chair, if you'd like to join the circle."

"No, thank you. That won't be necessary."

"Will you be on your way, then?"

His thick, dark eyebrows knitted together as he frowned down at her. "No. Why would I?"

"Would you like some tea while you wait, then?" Realizations, like winter mornings and replies to important letters, usually came much too late for Katniss' liking. "I mean, Lord Hawthorne, would you like some tea while we chat?"

"Yes, please." He looked a little less serious now, a welcome change. As she poured him a cup, Katniss watched out of the corner of her eye for Peeta. He was going on forty minutes late now. "Your sister told me about you when we met a few nights ago."

Katniss looked up. "Did she?"

"She's very proud of you, you know, and impressed as well. She said you handle all of your family's affairs, and that you have done so since you were very young." Seneca Crane ought to come over and take notes from Lord Hawthorne about how to compliment a lady.

"That seems like an odd first conversation."

"Now that you mention it, I have to agree." He took a bite of biscuit, the only one left off the plate she'd been presented. "These are wonderful."

"I'll be sure to pass your compliment along." And she would. Mary deserved every bit of praise she received. "Did it not seem strange at the time?" Thank heavens Mother was busy watching over Prim. Katniss suspected her conversations didn't fit her expectations for her daughters at all.

"Talking about you while I danced with your sister? No, it didn't. You see, I raise and race horses, and when I mentioned them, she brought up that you enjoy riding, and we talked about you for a while afterwards." He had drained his cup of tea and finished the biscuit. She really shouldn't have eaten so many of those. Mary and Mother would have plenty to say about gluttony later.

Maybe, just to mollify Mother, she could make polite conversation. "Do you enjoy riding as well, or do you keep to breeding?"

"I do some riding. Not as much as I used to, I'm afraid, as my responsibilities have taken over much of the time I once had, but I make an effort to go at least a couple of times a month." He smiled for the first time in their conversation. It was a handsome expression, and one that he ought to wear more often. "It's been easier recently. My younger sister just turned ten, and I gave her a horse for her birthday. We've been going out together as often as I can manage, trying to get her used to the difference between her pony and a real horse."

"I'm sure she enjoyed the gift." She spotted movement and turned to see Peeta only steps away, forty-six minutes late. She would have to remember that if he decided to be difficult – and since this was Peeta, she had little doubt he would. "Mister Mellark. How nice to see you again."

His blue eyes twinkled as he seated himself next to her on the narrow couch, the only spot remaining in the entire room. She tried not to think about just how little space there was between them, but when she could feel the heat of his body and hear his steady breathing, Katniss knew she had given herself an impossible task. "Thank you, Miss Everdeen. Hawthorne, it's been too long." He extended his hand, and Hawthorne took it.

"That it has. How have you been, Mellark?"

"Very well, thank you. Yourself?"

"Excellent."

She had worked too hard to make an almost-interesting conversation for it to be replaced by the most boring kind of small talk. "Lord Hawthorne was just telling me about teaching his younger sister to ride."

"How old is Posy now?" Could the man not take a hint?

"Ten." That smile had returned. Prim must not have found the right topic of conversation if she thought Lord Hawthorne too serious. "She's a quick learner. I'm not sure I'm ready for her to be better than me yet, but with the way she's going, I don't imagine it'll be long." He turned to Katniss. "Are all younger sisters so difficult, or was I just fortunate?"

"I think they all are."

"I have no experience with younger sisters, but I can assure you that as a younger brother, I did everything I could to annoy Rye and Caine."

"I'm sure you were very good at it," Katniss teased. That earned her a strange look from Lord Hawthorne, but Peeta laughed, a warm, inviting sound that made her want to join along.

"I'm sure they'd agree with you."

Her knee brushed against Peeta's when she turned towards him. "Why wouldn't they? I'm sure they know the truth when they hear it."

Lord Hawthorne coughed into his hand and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I am sorry, Miss Everdeen, Mister Mellark, but I have an appointment across town. Thank you very much for the tea."

"Thank you for the company," she replied. "Would you like me to show you outside?"

"No, thank you, I'm sure I can find my own way. Good day." With that, he was gone.

Peeta stayed stone-faced until Lord Hawthorne was safely out of the room, then laughed. "You made quick work of him, didn't you?"

"Excuse me?" She frowned.

"For you to scare him off," he explained.

"Did I?" Katniss replayed the conversation in her head. Yes, she supposed that did make sense.

"You won't convince me it's the first time you've done that."

"Maybe the first time I've done so accidentally." She thought about that statement for a moment. No, it probably wasn't, but there was no reason Peeta had to know that.

"It does make me wonder…"

"What?"

Those blue eyes bore into her, and her breath caught in her throat. Suddenly, her knee against his leg felt like far more than an innocent mistake. Peeta moved in an inch closer, and his voice dropped to a low, sultry whisper. "Were you being polite to him because you fancy him, or do you save your poor manners for the people you like most?"

Warmth pooled in her cheeks, but she wouldn't allow him to win so easily. "Who ever said I liked you at all?" Checking behind her to see if Mother had heard that would be admitting defeat, so she didn't. Without the grounding effect of her mother's consternation, the walls pressed in on her, eating away the room until only she, Peeta, and their unnecessarily small green couch remained.

"You didn't have to say it." There was a promise there, something warm and smoky that curled inside her, equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. Katniss' fingers curled around the seat cushion, holding on for dear life as she grabbed for words but found nothing.

"But," he said casually, as though nothing had happened - and perhaps for him, nothing had -"I am glad to hear that you don't ridicule our dear Lord Hawthorne. I'm not sure how the poor man would respond."

"I think you might be the first person to describe him as poor."

"That's a good point." Peeta's forehead creased as he frowned. "That reminds me…"

"Yes?"

"I'm not sure we should be discussing this right now." His eyes flicked over to Prim's suitors, and she followed to see Crane there, sitting only inches away from Prim.

Her voice dropped to an excited whisper. "You found something, then?"

"Not exactly." Peeta smiled at her confusion. "Nothing bad. Just strange, and not something I would want to talk about while the person involved is in the room with us." Well, that was a relief. It would have been embarrassing if she had to grab the hunting knife from upstairs and drive it into Crane's heart in the middle of their drawing room. Mary would never let her forget the mess. "Do you like to ride? I believe that was what you and Lord Hawthorne were discussing, yes?"

Katniss pushed aside any thoughts of violence. Mother was right; they didn't really befit a proper young lady. "I do."

"And have you ever been to Regents Park?"

She shook her head. Prim had gone once or twice, but even though she was certain she would have enjoyed the outings, Katniss had spent those afternoons at home. The less good she saw in London, the less she would miss when she left.

"You can't spend a season in London without going to Regents Park. We could go on a riding tour. Perhaps tomorrow?"

It was only for the information. She couldn't allow Prim to wander into Crane's clutches unaware – at least, not more than she already had. Katniss nodded. "I'd love that."

"Excellent!" Peeta said. "Now, if I could bother you for some tea, I believe we have a great many things to discuss."

"Such as?"

Peeta leaned in closer. "You said that your sister did an excellent job of infuriating you as a child. As a youngest child myself, I believe it my duty to research and put into effect her best strategies."

"And will I be able to show my face anywhere near your family after this?"

"I promise to keep my sources confidential."

A grin spread across her face. "Then I suppose I should have Mary make some more tea. Oh, and biscuits as well. Mary's biscuits are nearly as good as those cheese buns you had."

"That, Miss Everdeen, is the most wonderful proposition I've heard in a very long time."

"You should find better company, then." If she hadn't been wearing such a wide smile, perhaps those words could have had some bite.