“Limehouse?” Diana’s expression lit with adventure. “That’s not the sort of place one finds oneself every day.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Limehouse,” Bianca sighed. “And there’s nothing wrong with the working class.” She picked up one of the baskets, thrusting it into Diana’s arms. “I’m certain John wouldn’t like it if he thought you were too proud to venture into a working-class neighborhood.”
“I am not—” Diana sputtered, juggling the basket to get a better hold on it. “I would never—” She gave up her protests with a sigh. “Bea and I would be more than happy to take these things to Limehouse.”
Bea watched the whole interchange with an amused grin. Diana was one of the least snobbish ladies she knew, but her feud with John had her in high spirits. They were likely to have quite the adventure in Limehouse.
She lifted one of the baskets and looped it over her arm, then accepted a few coins from Bianca to pay for their cab fare. She and Diana made their way out to the street, laden with baked goods, and managed to hail one of the carriages that was lurking near the end of the street. The driver likely knew that a passel of aristocrats were hard at work on the orphan event and that they would need transportation.
“I, for one, will be overjoyed to have this entire thing over with,” Diana sighed as the carriage made its way into Limehouse, to the address for Stephen Siddel’s orphanage.
Bea couldn’t contain her smile. They’d chattered about this and that for the entire trip, but it was only a matter of time before her friend said something that opened the gates for more teasing.
“Yes, I think we’ll all be overjoyed when the feud finally stops and you and John fall into each other’s arms, like we all know you’re going to,” she said as the driver held the door open for them to disembark.
“That’s not what I meant,” Diana said with a sharp stare. She stepped down from the carriage, then turned to fetch the baskets. “I meant that I’ll be grateful after the party, after we’ve made innumerable orphans happy and given them a delightful Christmas. I simply cannot wait to put my feet up for days on end after Christmas is over.”
Bea’s humor took a solemn turn and she sighed. “I was so hoping that I would be spending this Christmas celebrating more than our Lord’s birth.”
The door to the orphanage stood open, so she and Diana walked right in with their baskets after paying the cab driver.
“You may still have something to celebrate,” Diana said with surprising compassion.
Stephen Siddel’s orphanage was everything Bea would have expected from an overcrowded, underfunded orphanage in Limehouse. The building itself was sound and the hall they entered was clean, but the entire place was decidedly shabby. Pegs lined the wall in the front hall that were hung with mismatched, threadbare wool coats and the simplest hats imaginable. Just off of the hallways was a vast room that looked to be a dining room and activity hall rolled into one. Several long rows of tables with benches ran the length of the room with a shorter table placed perpendicularly to the rest at the front of the room. The wallpaper was faded to the point where Bea wasn’t certain what color it was supposed to be, but the walls were decorated with paper snowflakes and other decorations that must have been made by the girls who called the orphanage home. Several of them sat at the tables, working on schoolwork or needlework or making more Christmas decorations. Bea found the whole thing charming, but slightly sad.
“Hello, ladies. Can I help you?”
Bea and Diana turned to the attractive young man with spectacles who walked into the room behind them. He had an air of kindness about him that immediately put Bea at ease, even though he was dressed in clothes that didn’t look much finer than the things the girls wore. To Bea, that was a good sign. It meant the man put his charges ahead of his own needs. For there was no mistaking that the man was the proprietor of the orphanage, in spite of the fact that he wasn’t much older than Bea.
“Are you Mr. Siddel?” Diana asked with a gracious smile.
“I am.” Mr. Siddel immediately reached for the basket in her arms, as if his first and only concern was to take the heavy burden from her. “You must be with the May Flowers.”
“We are,” Bea said, instantly adoring the man as much as the girls who glanced up from their work to smile at him obviously did. One of the smaller girls even left her table to walk up to Mr. Siddel’s side and take hold of the hem of his jacket. “I am Lady Beatrice Lichfield, and this is Lady Diana Pickwick.”
Mr. Siddel’s smile brightened. “Forgive me for not greeting you more formally, my ladies,” he said with a slight bow.
“We don’t stand on ceremony,” Diana said. “We were sent to bring you these things for immediate consumption.”
“Lady Clerkenwell doesn’t want them to go stale before they’re eaten,” Bea added.
The girls in the hall had all perked up and were looking on with interest. Mr. Siddel seemed to be fully aware of the fact.
“Let’s all take a look at what we’ve been given, shall we?” he asked, taking the basket he carried to the nearest table.
A commotion erupted as the girls leapt up from their tasks to crowd around the table where Mr. Siddel and Bea set the baskets and started emptying the contents.
“Mmm. This bread smells good,” one of the girls said.
“Are those hot cross buns?” another asked.
“Not at Christmas,” an older girl answered. “Hot cross buns are for Easter.”
“Is there any plum pudding?” another older girl asked.
“No, but look at how pretty this cake is,” another answered her.
Bea grinned from ear to ear, touched by how a simple basket of treats could bring so much joy to so many girls. It made her reconsider the things she thought were so important in her life.
“Let’s have some things now, but save most of it for later,” Mr. Siddel said, distributing small scones with sultanas to the girls crowding around him. “Annie, would you mind taking these two baskets to your mother in the kitchen?”
A young woman who was just slightly older than the oldest orphans stepped forward. She gazed at Mr. Siddel with absolute adoration as she reached for one of the baskets. “Yes, Mr. Siddel,” she said in a smitten voice.
Bea glanced to Diana. Annie was as obvious as Diana was in her regard for a man. “We can help you,” she said, taking up the basket she’d just put on the table. “It’s too much of a load for one person to manage on their own.”
“Oh, but the kitchens,” Annie said, her eyes wide. “And you being ladies.”
“Kitchens never did any harm to ladies,” Diana said, lifting one of the other baskets into her arms.
They left the third basket and its contents on the table for Mr. Siddel to sort out and marched out of the room and down the hallway, following Annie.
“Mama will be so pleased to receive this bounty,” Annie chattered as they passed a few rooms that appeared to be schoolrooms. “She’s always at her wit’s end when it comes to—”
The rumble of male voices wafting down the stairs at the end of the hall caught Bea completely by surprise. She would recognize Harrison’s voice anywhere, and John with him.