The rest of the day for Leonie passed in a blur of wandering thoughts and secret sighs. Books slipped from her fingers as she went about her work, earning her disapproving looks from her colleague, Mrs Potter. But she couldn't help it. It was as if her mind couldn't help but worry and think about the Professor.
"Really, dear. It can't be doing the books or your poor feet any good to keep doing that", Mrs Potter called from the other side of the shop when she heard a particularly big volume land on Leonie's toe, causing her to hiss out in pain.
"I'm sorry. I don't know where my head is today."
Mrs Potter gave her glasses a tweak, a knowing twinkle showing in her eyes. Leonie gave an exhausted smile. The elderly Mrs Potter may have been the most timid and gentle looking elderly lady she had ever met, but Leonie knew that she was a lot more sharper and shrewd than initial appearances would lead one to believe.
"I suppose it isn't too far away from a certain gentleman in a top hat", Mrs Potter speculated, very well knowing that she hit the mark. Leonie gave a small nod in reply.
"Perhaps."
"You should act a little happier, pumpkin! You should see the line of young ladies who swoon after that professor."
"I know- it's not that, he is very charming after all," she reasoned to herself. She wasn't sure why she had to even reason at all though; it wasn't as if she didn't like the man. "But, I wonder how I let myself agree to dinner with a man who always winds up in the type of trouble I am trying to avoid."
Mrs Potter put down the book she was examining and studied Leonie carefully.
"There is nothing to say that all that business will pop up here. The professor never need find out about all of that – after all, you've started a new life, haven't you?"
Leonie bit her lip, a frown forming a well in her forehead. Yes, she had moved away from all the trouble, but it didn't mean that it couldn't follow her. That was her greatest fear, and any sort of association with the professor, someone quite famous within the country, was bound to shine a spotlight on her that she would much prefer left her well alone.
"The newspapers worry me. There seems to be an unusually high number of burglaries being reported at the moment. I can't help but think if it's the-"
"Hush girl." Mrs Potter interrupted. "You have an over active imagination. You should put it to better use, rather than using to fret over things. You'll make your hair curl even more if all you do is worry!"
Mrs Potter gave a small chuckle, and Leonie joined in rather half-heartedly. Despite Mrs Potter's reassurance, she couldn't shake the feeling that the ominous news reports were somehow connected to her old life. Yet she couldn't prove this, so all she had to do was worry about the Professor. A thought suddenly struck her.
"I can't believe I told him my name!" Leonie shrieked, hands flying to her face. "I'm such a fool!"
"Oh shush. I don't think it should matter."
"But if the newspapers spot us- they'll want to know who I am...oh, what am I going to do?" Leonie fretted, running her hands through her hair, wincing as she caught the tangled knots in her fingers. What if after all the effort Mrs Potter had made to take Leonie in and keep her safe, it had been Leonie who had exposed herself?
"What makes you think the world would be so interested in the Professor's love life? The newspapers have better things to talk about."
"L-love life?" Leonie spluttered. "I don't think- i-it's not like that!"
"Oh, now that imagination really has got carried away with itself! Think pumpkin- the man must want to talk to you about more than just career advice."
Leonie couldn't argue with that. And she may have tried to have think it would have been for something different, but she couldn't come up with a single reason that withstood logic. As a welcome? No- after all, who does that in London? Was he looking for a teaching assistant? Possibly – but he would have arranged an interview, not a dinner date. Perhaps she just had difficulty in coming to terms with the fact that he may possibly like her. She turned back to the shelf she was currently tidying, trying to calm herself.
"Well, I sincerely hope the papers have more interesting things to talk about. He may know my first name, but my surname he doesn't. And I can't rely on a fake name forever."
Mrs Potter wandered over, holding a cup of tea and a plate of homemade biscuits.
"I'm positive that you are fretting yourself over nothing pumpkin. All you have to worry about it getting ready to impress this gentleman on your dinner date!"
Leonie gave a weak smile, and took the tea from Mrs Potter, along with a single biscuit. She wasn't hungry, but she hoped it would calm the butterflies in her stomach, even if she knew the butterflies of her mind wouldn't settle with merely a cup of tea.
The Professor hadn't known he was incapable of dressing himself for a dinner. Well, not until Flora had taken it upon herself to tell him such, and then proceeded to inspect the contents of his wardrobe for any suitable candidates of clothing.
"I can't believe you went without me!" She sighed, taking out a blue shirt and inspecting it, before placing it back inside the wardrobe. "I really wanted to meet her! Don't do that again professor!"
"It is rather odd being scolded by someone who has to stand on a chair to reach the clothes in my wardrobe", Layton chuckled.
She ignored him and carried on pulling clothes out at a furious pace. "Oh, I bet it was so romantic too!"
Luke padded into the room in his socks, watching Flora curiously as she worked her way through the wardrobe. He had apparently forgotten the newspaper that he held in his hands. "What's wrong with what the Professor normally wears?"
Flora turned to Luke, an appalled expression greeting him. "A gentleman has to make an effort for a lady!"
"That is correct," Layton interjected, hoping to avoid an argument between the two. "A gentleman must make himself presentable for a lady. It would be rude not to after she has put so much effort into her appearance herself."
Luke nodded sagely, apparently soaking in this smidge of gentlemanly wisdom. He knew Luke would take fashion advice more readily from himself than from Flora. The boy looked up to his mentor, and it was clear that Luke would one day turn into a perfect gentleman. But he had much to learn, and for that the Professor loved him even more. He rather liked the idea of being a role model for the young boy, much like a father.
"Oh! Professor, I have a puzzle for you- I almost forgot!" Luke said suddenly, shaking himself out of his reverie, grinning widely and handing Layton the paper he had brought.
"Oh, he really doesn't have the time for this Luke", Flora said, throwing yet another piece of clothing onto the Layton's bed when it failed to pass her strict test. "He has to pick Leonie up and be at the restaurant in less than an hour!"
"I'm afraid she is right again Luke. Save it for tomorrow, and we can solve it when we aren't so pressed for time."
"Okay", he replied happily, starting to fold the paper up."Flora, how about that shirt to your right? Isn't that smart enough?
"Wise choice my boy", Layton said, ruffling the boy's hair as he stood and relieved Flora of her task. He was starting to worry that he wouldn't be able to find his bed if she carried on dismantling his wardrobe the way she was. To be truthful, he just wanted to get ready and get going; he had never been one who often felt nervous, but he was having difficulty in suppressing the butterflies in the pit of his stomach. Even if the shirt had been an abrupt and outrageous one, he would have probably taken it, so was the extent of his nerves.
"So...", Flora started, and the Professor dreaded to find out what sort of question was hanging off the edge of that curious tone. "Will you kiss her?"
"Ah..."
"Flora, will you stop being so disgusting!" Luke piped in, screwing up his nose and sticking out his tongue in a youthful gesture of distaste. "You read too many romantic books. You should read Sherlock. Or try some more puzzles."
"You haven't answered my question Professor!" she chirped, ignoring Luke. "Will you get her flowers? Will you hold her hand? What about-"
"Now, now Flora- like you said, I haven't got the time for such questions. I can't keep a lady waiting." The Professor decided that tact is the best solution to this predicament. And there was a substantial amount of truth to it; he was well aware of the impatient ticking of the clock.
"But I'm a lady too..." she pouted. Luke rolled his eyes and Layton couldn't help the smile the spread across his features. Yes, these two were still a lady and gentleman in training, not that he would have it any other way.
"Then I shall not keep you waiting. Tomorrow I shall tell you how the evening went," he smiled. "But at the moment, it would be terribly rude of me to keep another young lady waiting."
His thoughts momentarily flickered to Leonie and that beautiful smile. If his face gave any hint as to the flurry of butterflies this sent through him than Flora gracefully chose not to highlight it. A lady in training, but one who was well on her way.
He quietly prepared, was given one last inspection by Flora, who approved wholly of his orange shirt and black tie attire, and was soon hurrying out of the front door, Luke and Flora waving him off. Flora had given up on her questions, realising that her constant stream of thoughts and ponderings were hindering the course of what she considered to be a very sweet and romantic situation. Layton couldn't quite relate to such feelings presently.
It was rather hard to consider the constant pounding of his heart in his ears and his feverish worry as romantic. Perhaps he should think of it as simply a dinner with an acquaintance. But that was terribly difficult to do when his previous day dreams of picnics and laughter and sleepy morning smiles seemed to seep into any logical thought he might have, jarring his senses and encouraging his heart to continue to thunder in his ears. It was worrying for a gentleman to have such persistent thoughts. He really needed a cup of tea...
He stopped off at the florist on his way, to pick up a simple but elegant bouquet of blue and white flowers. He tipped his hat to the shopkeeper as he left, before noticing how the sky was beginning to turn inky to welcome the night. He hurried his journey, not wanting to leave a lady waiting outside in the dark. He pulled up a road away from their arranged meeting place at the train station. As the engine slowly wound down to a halt, he took one invigorating breath of air, and made his way towards the lights and sounds, and the distant but unmistakable figure of Leonie.
It was the only time he had known of butterflies to appear at night.
