Libby did all the introductions, and dispensed more champagne, she saw the anxiety settle like a vice over her sister when her mother appeared in the room, particularly when the elegant woman was introduced to Chris. She held her breath when he spoke to her, but she had underestimated him and her mother actually smiled.
“You look good in that dress,” the old soldier told Harry approvingly. He turned to Chris and looked up at the big handsome man, “fine looking woman, make sure you look after her.” Chris watched her smile again, and for a moment her dark eyes held his, he realised then that he just needed to be honest, and fought a rather Neanderthal urge to carry her back to his room and kiss her until her head was spinning.
“I’d like to speak to my girl for a moment,” said Julia’s father, and they disappeared into one of the warren of rooms beyond.
“Harry can we grab you?” asked her father, and she nodded and watched rather wistfully as Libby led Chris and Olivia downstairs.
Lady Caroline sat down on the bed, and for once she spoke to her daughter at eye level “Do you want me to push your chair today?” Her mother asked, and Harry blinked at her in surprise.
“I think Lib is really looking forward to it,” she said finally, and her mother smiled at her. “Of course, well remember how proud we are darling.”
Harry smiled back at her, and found herself caught in a rather awkward hug, then she watched her parents depart, and thought of all the times in her childhood when she had ached for her mother to hold her.
“Hello,” said the deep voice that made her tingle, he sat down beside her and took her hand. “You look astonishingly gorgeous, if I was good at romantic stuff I’d compare you to all sorts of lovely things.”
“I think you’re romantic.”
“Thank you Harry.”
“I don’t know if I can have children,” she said suddenly, “I mean there’s no reason that it should be harder for me, but I’ve had such bad luck with physical stuff, and I want children so much.” She felt the tears sliding down her face, and smiled ruefully at him. “Sorry to be so intense.”
“Intense is good.” he said tenderly, and for the first time since the fire had torn his life apart he uttered the words she had been longing for, “I love you, I’ve been wanting to say that from the first time I kissed you.”
Harry felt the tingle in the base of her stomach, he loved her, he actually loved her. He had watched her awkward transfers a hundred times, he knew how tired she got and he still desired her. “What about children, and my scary mother and…” she paused and said very softly “the fact that I can’t walk?”
“If it doesn’t happen naturally we can adopt, I wish someone had taken me in, and your mother smiled at me, so that seems like it might be okay, and even if it takes time we can work at it, we’ll both want to get it right for your sake.” He pulled the box out of the subtly floral waistcoat that Julia had forced him to buy and knelt down in front of her. “Harry if I could go back in time then I would change that moment when I was an insensitive idiot. The fact that I was behaving like such a bully just hit home to me when I saw your chair. But I want you to know that it doesn’t make you even the slightest bit less attractive. You make me smile, you turn me on, and when I'm with you I lose track of time, that's so much more important than walking.” He opened the box and held it out to her, “The past two months have been the happiest time I’ve had since I lost my family. I chose this myself, I hope you like it, I hope you say yes. Marry me Harry and I promise I’ll look after you whenever you need me to, and hold my breath when you’re being stubborn and independent.”
The day passed in a blur after that, Helen had overseen the transformation of the ballroom. Flowers hung from the dark fittings and the cold shades of winter were lit by candles and fairy lights. The guests started to arrive and Harry sat in the dining room keeping up a string of encouraging remarks while her mother’s hairdresser transformed Julia’s unruly style. In the big space next door she could Libby and Olivia keeping the psychiatry community and the retired soldiers from killing each other. The drinks kept flowing and when Harry held her train and felt the familiar demons of self-consciousness making her want to curl up and hide, she looked at the ring on her finger. Chris was waiting for her at the top of the aisle. She could feel his love and his pride and when she drew closer she lost herself in her tender blue eyes. She had found someone to hold her hand.
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