“But do you really think it’s enough?” Eliza asked. “What about the monopolies and the gang-run city governments? Just regulating wages and hours and cleanliness isn’t going to solve all the evils brought about by big business!”
“My word, Eliza Williams. You’ve certainly thought a lot on this subject,” Harrison said.
Eliza’s heart skipped an awful beat. “You’re teasing me,” she said, turning to face forward. The rest of her friends were just starting to feel comfortable enough to insert themselves among the boys.
“No, I’m not,” Harrison said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m just . . . impressed.”
She dared a sideways glance at him. He nodded toward the rest of the party. “How many of them do you think are discussing politics and literature right now?”
Eliza scanned the basement. Alice was batting her eyes at no fewer than four boys, while Theresa and Jane were listening to two others in the corner. Lavender and Catherine sat alone together, conversing in low tones. The rest of the girls were giggling and casting glances at the various groups of boys.
“My guess would be none,” she said, smiling and looking down at her hands. “My mother would tell me to turn the topic toward the weather, or ask you about your family or your aspirations.”
“The weather is fine, thank you. My family is boring, and I aspire to keep talking to you for as long as possible, if you’ll agree to not mention any of those dull topics again,” Harrison said lightly, looking intently at her.
Eliza grinned. “Agreed.” For a long moment she held his gaze.
“Miss Williams, would it be too bold of me if I said that you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen?” he said quietly.
Eliza couldn’t breathe. She could barely even think. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard her mother teaching her the proper way in which to react to a compliment: Cast her gaze down, blush, and either thank the boy politely or protest. But as Eliza looked into Harrison’s dark blue eyes, another answer came to her.
“Likewise, Mr. Knox,” she said.
He grinned.
“There you are, Harry! I’ve been looking all over for you!”
Harrison nearly jumped out of his chair. Theresa was cutting across the basement purposefully, a hand outstretched toward Harrison, the engagement ring upon it twinkling in the candlelight.
“Theresa. You look lovely as always,” he said. He took her offered hand and kissed it, an everyday gesture that nevertheless made Eliza’s stomach twist into knots.
Theresa chuckled and slipped her arm through his, pulling him proprietarily to her side. Together they faced Eliza, who rose belatedly from her own chair.
“You’re ever the gentleman.” Theresa reached up and brushed an errant lock of blond hair off his forehead. The knots in Eliza’s stomach tightened. “I see you’ve met Billings’s newest student, Eliza Williams.”
“Yes. We’ve just been discussing our aspirations,” Harrison said, his tone suddenly formal.
Eliza stared at Theresa’s hand on Harrison’s arm. “How do you two know each other?”
“Oh, Harry didn’t tell you? He and I are engaged to be married,” Theresa said, thrusting her ring toward Eliza’s nose.
The entire world dropped out from beneath Eliza’s feet. She tore her eyes from the diamond long enough to glance at Harrison. He looked away sheepishly.
Engaged. He’s engaged. And to Theresa? How could he be engaged to someone so awful?
A sour desperation spread through Eliza’s gut. She knew she was to congratulate the pair and ask what season they planned to wed. But her mouth felt glued shut, and her thoughts were a confused tangle. Harrison had complimented her taste in books, her thoughtfulness, and her eyes. Was that standard behavior from an engaged man? Obviously she had misinterpreted his interest in her. Suddenly Eliza felt awkward, naïve, and pathetic.
“We’re thinking a spring wedding, right, Harry?” Theresa said, smiling up at him.
“Spring, yes. Spring would be . . . fine,” he said in a strangled voice.
And just like that, something snapped inside of Eliza. Anger crowded out her desperation—anger not at Harrison nor at Theresa, but at herself. She had promised herself she wouldn’t turn into May and sell her soul for a boy, yet here she was, on her first night, ready to cry over the first one she’d met. What had gotten into her?
She drew herself up and lifted her chin. “Congratulations,” she said. “I’m sure the two of you will be very happy together.”
Then she turned and strode over to join Jonathan, Alice, and two tall boys, resolving to put Harrison Knox and Theresa Billings entirely out of her mind. He was a flirt, and she was a witch. As far as Eliza Williams was concerned, they deserved each other.
My Harrison