She directed the hanging of wreaths and garlands, adjusting bows as she went.
Captain Shaw manned one ladder while Viscount Garland balanced on another. The footmen worked alongside them as well.
Frances decided the balls of holly would look perfect hanging from the ceiling over the dance floor and went into the receiving room just off the entry where a few boxes remained to see if they had enough of them.
She was carefully sorting through a box to gather the balls using the ribbons when a shiver ran along her skin. She looked over her shoulder, her heart racing as Thomas joined her.
“I came to see if you needed assistance.” He looked at her expectantly.
“How kind of you.” Both her hands were full, but she tipped her head toward a box. “I believe there are a few more balls of holly in there. I want to see if there are enough to place over the dance floor. If we have at least a dozen, that should suffice.”
He dug through the box while she moved to a nearby table to set down hers. “Thank you for coming today,” she said. “I know you have a lot on your mind.”
“It’s good to have a distraction from waiting to see if we hear anything.” His expression sobered, revealing how concerned he was as if his previous frivolity was only a mask.
“I pray that we do. I hope the flyers will be the topic of every conversation in the East End.”
“As do I, though I plan to return there after this to search some more.” He joined her with several bundles of holly in hand. “Looks as if we should have plenty.”
Frances took them from him one by one, fixing the glossy red satin ribbon they each had at the top. She re-tied the final one, her hand brushing against his. Awareness swept through her as their bare skin touched. She stilled, her gaze shifting to him as she wondered if he felt the same sparkle she did.
His eyes darkened, and he didn’t move either. Then his gaze fell to her lips.
She waited, breathless until he leaned close. Then closer still as if savoring the moment. At last, his lips touched hers, and she nearly whimpered as passion rose within her. He clasped her free hand, the warmth of his skin against her chilled fingers like a sweet embrace.
Though she longed for more, she knew this moment wouldn’t—couldn’t—last. Not when the Pavilion was filled with others, including her mother.
As if Thomas realized the same thing, he eased back.
Her entire body trembled. This was her chance. The moment when she could tell him how she felt. That she longed for more between them.
“Thomas, I—”
“Frances?” Before she could force out what was in her heart, her mother’s voice echoed through the entrance hall.
Frances jerked back, still holding the ribbon and holly, her attention on Thomas.
“Before we part today,” he whispered then glanced over his shoulder before quickly turning back, “I would like to speak with you.”
Her heart lifted, spinning with hope that he might feel for her even a portion of what she did for him.
“Frances?” Her mother entered the room. “There you are.” She glanced between them with curiosity, her steps slowing as if she realized she might’ve interrupted something. “We have a question about the remaining garland.”
“Of course.” She smiled, feeling like she could dance on air. Trying to hide it, she gestured toward the pile of holly. “Mr. Sinclair is helping me gather these to hang above the dance floor.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, dear.”
“I’ll see if Viscount Garland is available to assist me,” Thomas said as he lifted a pile of the balls into his arms. Then he winked at Frances as he moved toward the doorway.
Shocked delight washed over Frances, heating her cheeks. She quickly turned toward the remaining holly before her mother saw the flush. But she couldn’t stop her smile. This was turning out to be the best Christmas season ever.
Chapter Thirteen
Thomas smothered a smile as he carried the holly into the ballroom, but the light in his heart refused to dim. While he’d anticipated being able to spend time with Frances, finding a moment to share another kiss was more than he’d hoped for.
He was pleased he’d decided to come this morning. Though based on his growling stomach, it was now afternoon.
“What has you in such fine spirits?” Garland asked as he examined a finger. “Obviously, you haven’t been pricked by the blasted decorations nearly as much as I have.”
