“You’re right.” Bea forced herself to smile and take a breath to clear her head. “I suppose I’m overly worried for nothing.”
Her attention was drawn to the door at the far side of the room as soon as she was finished speaking. Harrison had just entered, along with his close friend, Lord John Darrow, Viscount Whitlock—who also happened to be Diana’s arch-nemesis—carrying a tall pine tree between them. Bea’s heart ran riot in her chest, thumping against her ribs and causing her to gulp for breath. Harrison was simply the handsomest man she’d ever laid eyes on. He was tall and well-formed, like so many of the cricket players he and John idolized. His face was kindness personified, with soulful, hazel eyes that displayed his emotions as though they were a stage. He smiled at several of the orphans who were there to help with decorations as they rushed to see the tree, saying something to them that Bea couldn’t hear from the other side of the room, but that she was certain was full of sweetness and wisdom.
She’d longed to be Harrison’s wife from the moment he’d asked her to waltz with him at the ball where they’d met. His arms had felt so sure and certain around her, and the way he’d smiled at her and asked gentle, interesting questions to get to know her as they danced made her feel as though she were the most important woman in the—
“If you were any more obvious, the fire brigade would barge through the doors to douse you with ice water, Bea,” Diana snapped at Bea’s side.
“What? Oh, I—” Bea’s face flared even hotter. She snapped her head down to focus on the bow she was tying, only to discover that she’d made three knots and trapped her fingers between the ribbon. “I was just….” She gave up her attempt at an explanation with a sigh. Diana knew the truth of things anyhow.
“I don’t see how you could care for a man who spends so much of his time in the company of an absolute bounder,” Diana growled, staring daggers across the room at Lord John. Although, if Bea’s guess was right, the heat in Diana’s eyes every time she glared at John was of a different sort than what Diana imagined it to be. “I see it as a distinct lack of character that your beau has such wicked friends.”
“Lord John isn’t wicked.” Bea broke into a grin and sent Diana a sideways look. “And Harrison is simply wonderful for volunteering his time for the May Flowers’s cause. He’s a gentleman and a peer, and there are a great many other things he could be doing at Christmastime instead of decorating a public hall in Clerkenwell for the sake of orphans.”
“Yes, well, I’m certain that Bianca turned the thumb-screws on that entire lot, forcing them to help with preparations when they would much rather have been lazing about their club, smoking cigars and gambling.”
Bea laughed out loud at the image. “Harrison doesn’t care for smoking,” she said, her laugh turning into a sigh as she watched him and John anchor their tree in a stand and secure it. “He does care for charitable causes. Why, just the other day, at Lady Hartnell’s Christmas concert, he was telling me how passionate he is about supporting the downtrodden and funding those men and women who work on their behalf.”
Diana hummed suspiciously, her gaze set on John. “I would wager he said that in order to impress you. Most likely so that you would slip into the next room with him and let him take liberties.” A spark of longing lit her eyes as she spoke, still studying John.
“Harrison would never be so inconsiderate,” Bea said with a knowing grin. That grin faded quickly, though. Harrison hadn’t once taken liberties with her. The most passionate thing he’d done in the years that they’d known and flirted with each other was to remove her glove so that he could kiss her bare hand. And while that had taken her breath away, she would be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t wanted more.
“Why hasn’t he proposed yet?” she whispered passionately.
Her accidental outburst happened just as Bianca crossed behind her and Diana. Bianca stopped and rocked back to stand between Bea and Diana, staring across the room at Harrison and John as they finished with the tree, then rushed to help a man who had just brought several boxes of donations through the door.
“Are you still waiting for Harrison to propose?” Bianca asked, the side of her mouth twitching into a grin.
Bea pulled her gaze away from Harrison to stare guiltily at Bianca. “I’m afraid that at this point, it’s not going to happen.”
“Nonsense,” Bianca snorted. “That man has been besotted with you for at least two years.”
“Perhaps.” Bea lowered her eyes, wanting to believe it but not letting herself hope.
Bianca stared at her like she had spit on her mother’s grave. “You can’t possibly tell me that you think the man would do anything but propose,” she said.
“It hasn’t happened yet, so I despair of it happening at all,” Bea said.
Bianca shook her head. “And here I thought you were intelligent.”
“Bea is intelligent,” Diana said, back to glaring across the room as Harrison and John took the new boxes of donations to a table that was already overloaded with various crates, sacks, and parcels of clothing, toys, and necessities. “It’s men who lack basic intelligence.”
Again, Bianca laughed. “You’re not wrong,” she said, then laid a hand on Bea’s shoulder. “He’ll propose, ducky. I know it. A man doesn’t look at a woman the way Harrison looks at you without marriage on his mind. And besides, it’s nearly Christmas. What better time to ask a woman to spend the whole rest
