a/n: I really wanted to update a few days ago, but it seemed that the site was having some problems. Fortunately it was back up today.

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And, as always, please enjoy.

Romen

Disclaimer: see previous chapters

Chapter Ten

Miss Swann is Smitten

"Miss Swann? What are you doing?"

Elizabeth looked up, breaking into a grin. She ran out into the hall, grabbing his hand. "Will, come, you really must taste this when we've finished, and tell us what you think..."

Will blinked in confusion as she led him into the kitchen. Margaret was bent over a recipe book, one finger on her chin thoughtfully.

"What are you doing?" Will repeated, peering over Elizabeth's shoulder.

Elizabeth heaved a small sigh. "Father thinks that I'm spending too much time at my studies, and not practicing enough 'lady-like' activities, so he assigned me to baking a cake for a friend who's visiting in a few days."

Will cocked one eyebrow higher than the other, watching as Margaret began pulling various utensils out of cabinets. "A friend?"

Elizabeth looked away, her cheeks tinged a bright pink. "Well, yes...We've been friends for quite some time. He lives in Port Royal too, you know. His father is very good friends with my father, so we've known each other since we were little."

"Oh really." He did his best to sound enthusiastic as he glanced over at the recipe. "Have you ever made this before?"

She chuckled nervously, rubbing her elbow. "Now that you mention it, no. That's why I thought it would be better if we made a practice one first, and have someone taste it."

"And that someone...is me?"

"Erm...Exactly!" She grabbed his shoulder, her face falling. "Please Will, please, we need someone to taste it for us, and no one else will." She paused. "Besides, it can't be that bad. Margaret is an excellent cook, I'm sure you know, and I've made other things that are similar to this in the past. Please, Will! Please?"

He hesitated. "All right..."

"Oh, thank you Will!" she cried, pushing him down on a stool. "You don't know how grateful I am!"

He chewed on his lip. "Why don't you taste it yourselves?"

She cheerily waved him away. "It wouldn't be half as fun! And we do very much need feedback."

"Yes, well..." He watched as Elizabeth began to add the ingredients to the mixing bowl. "So this...friend."

She didn't look up from the task at hand. "Mmm-hmm, I suspect you mean James?"

"This 'James'...What is he like?"

"Well, he's very intelligent," she began slowly, measuring out sugar. "He's surpassed many people our age in his studies."

"Here, Will." Margaret set a small tray with nuts in front of Will, along with a large spoon. "Would you mind crushing these for us?"

"Sure." He took the ladle, his eyes still on Elizabeth.

"He's also very athletic," Elizabeth continued promptly. "He's very good at riding; when we visit his manor in London or his villa in France, he always insists that we ride together."

"He has a villa in France?" Will swallowed.

She giggled. "Yes, it's very beautiful! The furnishing, the balconies...Oh, and the vineyards! They're wonderful to stroll through in spring, as are the gardens! The flowers are so lovely...But where was I...

"Oh yes! He's also very skilled on the harpsichord. He's very passionate about his music; he's composed a few pieces himself. He is constantly saying that I could compose something for my violin if I tried, but I don't think I could, at least nothing as magnificent as his pieces. I just don't have the talent, I'm sure you know what I mean..."

'Not really,' Will, who played no musical instruments, thought to himself, concentrating hard on grinding the nuts.

"...and is always talking about it. He's also fluent in French, German, Spanish, and Latin. Languages come easy to...Will?"

"Huh?" He raised the ladle. He had grinded the left section of the nuts until there was nothing left but a thin, light, powder. He laughed shakily. "Oh, sorry...I suppose I just got carried away..."

"Don't worry, nothing is wrong." Elizabeth cocked her head to the side, an expression of puzzlement on her face. She took the tray from him, glancing at him sideways. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, attempting a smile but failing horribly. "Yes, I'm fine." Actually, he felt quite the opposite. He felt like hitting something.

"Try the icing!" She handed him a spoon. "Margaret made it herself."

He took a small taste. "This is very good- ow!"

"Oh, sorry," Susan apologized, smiling innocently. "I didn't mean to hit you in the head with the bucket." She raised it for emphasis.

Will shot her a glare as she crossed into the hallway, whistling. He was starting to think that the whole incident with the cross was just a fluke...

"She doesn't mean to be rude," Margaret said quickly, pouring the batter into the pan. "It's just her way of showing affection."

He scowled. "Pardon my saying so, but I can't imagine her being affectionate toward anyone."

Margaret laughed, pausing with one hand on her hip. "Yes, she's always been that way. At least ever since I've known her."

Elizabeth arched one eyebrow. "What? But I thought..."

"I'm not her real mother," she explained. "I found Susan on the streets when she was five. Her parents had died, and she had been in a bad situation. She ran away from home. I took her in, and when I came out here, I brought her along."

Will adverted his eyes as Margaret placed the cake in the stove. He had never imagined Susan having any kind of a painful past...

Some time later, the cake was finished baking. Margaret iced it, sprinkling the nuts across the surface.

Elizabeth cut him a slice, shrugging. "At least it smells good!"

Will took a bite, nodding. "This is very good, Elizabeth."

She bit her lip. "Really? You're not just saying that?"

"Really! I'm eating it, aren't I?" He swallowed. "Really, Elizabeth, it's delicious."

She glowed. "Thank you! I hope James likes it too!"

Will suddenly didn't feel as hungry. He set his fork down. "I better get back to work. Thank you, Miss Swann, it was very good."

He hurried from the kitchen before they could say anything else, his ears feeling unusually hot.

TBC...

Small sigh Poor Will...

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