Since she and Daniel hadn’t yet announced their betrothal, Sally accompanied them and seemed to be enjoying the blooms as much as Beatrice. She trailed a short distance behind them.
Beatrice glanced at Daniel from beneath her lashes, searching for a sign that he was bored and would rather be doing something else. He was especially quiet this afternoon. Would she ever feel certain of him or would she always wonder if he regretted his proposal? Yet she couldn’t bring herself to ask for fear of learning the truth.
“Is all well?” Daniel glanced at her, his brow furrowed.
A small laugh escaped her. “I was about to ask you the same. Is something on your mind?” She gripped tight to her courage. “Have I done anything to upset you?” Like saying yes to your proposal.
He stared at her as if baffled by her question. “What would make you think that?”
She glanced about to make certain their conversation was private. Luckily, none of the other guests were nearby and Sally had paused to study some flowers. “I suppose I worry whether you’re having regrets.” There. She’d said what had been uppermost in her thoughts since the moment he’d proposed.
“Beatrice.” He turned to face her, meeting her gaze with an open honesty that sent her heart pounding. “Absolutely not. Are you?”
“No. It’s just—” How could she possibly explain how she felt? Her fear that he’d only asked her to marry him out of pity plagued her, especially in the middle of the night when all she’d been through returned to haunt her. Why would he wish to marry a ruined woman?
“What? Tell me,” he whispered. It wasn’t a demand as much as a plea.
She closed her eyes. This man could undo her with one look. How could she withstand such an assault? She hadn’t intended to tell him any of her thoughts, let alone ask if he was sure about them marrying. She didn’t want to seem as if she were in constant need of reassurance. But she was. She opened her eyes and saw only concern in his gaze. Not pity. That in itself was a relief.
“Are you certain you truly wish to marry me? I worry whether you feel you made a mistake when you proposed.” She forced herself to hold his gaze even as her stomach tightened in a knot.
“No. I know I haven’t. If I’ve done anything to cause you to think that—”
“Nothing of the sort.” If only she could silence her doubt. This was a time when her life seemed too good to believe, something her practical side insisted couldn’t be real. “I suppose part of me is waiting for my good fortune of late to take a turn for the worse.”
“Beatrice.” He glanced about before meeting her eyes once again. “I wish we were alone so I could show you how much I look forward to our marriage.”
Her heart turned over at the heat in his eyes. “I eagerly await it as well.”
“Excellent. Then we’re in agreement.” He took her arm and continued along the path. “In truth, marrying you is the only thing I am certain of at the moment.”
“How do you mean?”
He shook his head. “It has nothing to do with you or our forthcoming marriage.”
“Then what?”
“Hurdy paid a call yesterday.”
She halted abruptly. “And?”
“He’s not pleased that someone caused trouble at the brothel.”
“How did he even hear about it?” she asked as they continued forward.
“Perhaps he has someone watching the place who reported it, though I didn’t see anyone. The odd thing was that he mentioned everything except the fact that Mary escaped.”
“That is odd.”
“Though I suppose if Hurdy learned of everything that happened from someone in the brothel, they wouldn’t share that a woman, held against her will, escaped.”
“True,” she agreed. His comment made her wonder what else he had done that evening.
“The situation is beyond frustrating. I confess that the fact that Finch hasn’t been arrested makes me feel as if my efforts have failed.” He shook his head, his lips twisted with displeasure.
“Never.” She paused again in the middle of the garden path, her entire body stiff with outrage though she kept her voice low. “You have done more than the Runner to deal with Finch. I never imagined you’d do all you have, especially freeing Mary. What have the authorities done? Nothing.”
A smile slowly quirked his lips. “Thank you. Your belief in me helps considerably.”
“Who does Hurdy think he is, questioning you?” Indignation had her babbling, but she couldn’t help it. “He’s lucky you are involved.”
“I don’t think he sees it that way.” Daniel’s amusement at her vehemence was obvious.
“What has he done other than watch the terrible things that go on?” Her gloved hands balled into fists. “At least you took action. Mary would still be there without your interference.”
He touched her hand briefly as if to soothe her. “Your words are the balm I needed. It’s nice to think you believe I made a difference.”
“I know you have.” She made an effort to calm herself, not wanting to draw attention from the other guests. “You need only look at me to know that.”
“As a matter of fact, I like looking at you.” His gaze swept over her, sending awareness prickling along her skin. “Each time I see you, I’m reminded of how blessed I am.” Then that heated gaze held on her lips.
“Daniel.” She glanced about as warmth rushed up her cheeks. She hoped no one heard their discussion or witnessed the way he looked at her—as if he wanted to kiss her.
“I’ve been so distracted that I failed to mention how lovely you look this afternoon.”
“Thank you.” She truly hoped he thought that. She wanted to be enough for him. To make him happy. She wanted to be deserving of this honorable, courageous man. To match his efforts to do something for others, regardless of the risk to himself.
She had an idea but would need assistance to execute it. That fact had her hesitating
