a/n: Okay, I'm back with the next chapter. Please keep up with your wonderful reviews; they mean a lot to me!

And, as always, please enjoy.

Romen

Disclaimer: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

Chapter 13

Bad Luck

The next morning Will woke later than he should have. He dressed hurriedly, sloppily tucking his shirt in as he ran down the stairs, bursting into the sunlit day and looking around wildly for Susan. It wasn't long until he spotted her. She was sitting on the sheet, her brow furrowed as she dried one of the dishes.

"Susan, I am so sorry," Will exclaimed breathlessly, sitting down next to her. "I accidentally slept in this morning."

Susan glared at him, folding her arms against her chest. "That better be the last time, Will. I haven't gotten much done by myself. For that you're going to have to take washing duty."

He didn't argue. Susan seemed quite flustered herself, and he wondered if she had met James that morning. Those two would most likely not get along, he mused to himself as he sloshed around in the bucket. He imagined them locked in a room together for hours; however, he would never want to wish James upon anyone, not even Susan...

Really, Susan could be tolerated. You just couldn't take anything she said offensively, which at times was easier said than done. James was a different matter. He was like a fly that you kept swatting at that always seemed to bite you. He was like the sound of fingernails running across a blackboard. He was like a leak in the roof through which small raindrops would squeeze through, dropping on your nose just as you were about to fall asleep.

Will was still thinking of different similes when Tom plopped down on the sheet next to him.

"Hello," he said cheerily, leaning back on his elbows. "How's the day going?"

"Good," Susan snapped, "at least until you showed up."

Tom frowned. "Me too, but then I decided to come over here. Anyway, Will, do you know where I can find a spare shovel?"

Will was just about to reply when the sound of laughter caught his attention. He looked up.

Elizabeth, once again wearing a light blue dress, was crossing the lawn, a parasol overhead, arm in arm with none other than James. Will scowled, ducking his head and furiously scrubbing the plate. Hopefully they wouldn't notice him and would just continue on their way.

His luck was never that good.

"Hello, Mr. Turner," James greeted him dolefully, observing the silverware with obvious amusement. "Is this not a fine day?"

"Brilliant," Will mumbled, roughly shoving the plate in Susan's direction.

"Lizzy and I were just playing a duet together."

"Oh really."

"Yes, Lizzy played so wonderfully." He smiled at her fondly. "Really, you should compose something."

Elizabeth adverted her eyes, giggling. "Oh, no, James, I just don't have your talent..."

"If you put your mind to it, I know that you could do it."

'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...'

Will's brow furrowed as he threw several pieces of silverware into the bucket, causing some water to splash over the sides and Elizabeth and James to step backward.

James cleared his throat. "I shall be back in a moment, Lizzy. Father insists that I converse in Latin with him at least an hour everyday." He hurried inside, leaving Elizabeth standing in front of the sheet, twirling the parasol.

Elizabeth watched as Will thrust another plate at Susan. She crouched down in front of him.

"So what do you think of him?"

Will didn't look up. "What do I think of who?"

"Of James."

He shrugged. "He's all right...I guess."

She grew silent, chewing on her lower lip. "My birthday is coming up in a few days." She paused, as if waiting for a response. When none came, she continued. "Father is going to hold a gala here. There is going to be dancing."

Will's face twitched. "How wonderfully splendid for you."

She frowned. "Why are you acting like that?"

"Acting like what?"

"You're acting so, so- surly."

"I am not acting surly," he protested.

"Yes, you are!" Elizabeth insisted. "You've been acting oddly for the past several days."

"I am not being surly!" he repeated, a bit louder than he meant to.

"Yes, you have been! Will, what's going on?"

"Nothing is going on! Unless you count the fact that the only thing you can talk about is James, who is so perfect..."

She scoffed. "That's not true..."

"Oh really? Then who said 'James can do this,' and 'James can do that', and 'James is so wonderful'..."

Tom and Susan cast each other a wary glance.

"Just because I don't speak four languages or have houses all over the world doesn't mean I don't have feelings," Will continued darkly. "Don't think that I'm going to take it when you come down here bragging about some celebration you're having when I'm not even going to be invited..."

Elizabeth stood jerkily, her voice sounding rather high. "Actually, I was going to invite you, William Turner, but I don't know about that now." She pitted on her heel, storming away.

Will stared at her diminishing back, his face slowly reddening. "It's not fair!" he finally burst out. "James can get by with anything, but she's always picking at me..."

Susan rolled her eyes. "Stop whining."

"I am not whining!" He shot her a glare. "I'm just sick of hearing about James."

"Well you went about the wrong way of telling her," Tom replied smoothly, running one hand through his hair.

"As I much as I hate to admit it, he does have a point," Susan agreed.

"Then what should I have said, Susan? What's your advice, since you seem to know everything as it is?"

Susan bristled. "In case you haven't noticed, Will, I happen to be a girl. You may not think of me as one, but I am. I might have some insight into the female mind that you don't have. But if you're not willing to listen, then that's not my problem." She stood, slamming the door to the servant's quarters behind her.

"Are you going to get mad at me too?" Will asked Tom sharply.

Tom poorly fought back a grin. "No," he finally managed to say, sitting up. "Frankly, I agree with you. But you were a little ridiculous."

Will heaved a sigh. "I'm so daft," he exclaimed ruefully, scrubbing a dish. "You should have hit me or something."

"Don't fret." Tom gave him a hearty slap on the back. "She's not really upset with you. Before you know it you'll be invited to the gala."

(Space)

That evening Tom helped Will carry the dishes back into the kitchen, since Will hadn't seen Susan ever since she had ran off. They set it down on the table, preparing to leave.

"Will."

He turned around, flushing. "Miss Swann," he said quickly, hurrying over. "Please forgive me for my previous behavior today."

She smiled weakly. "Don't worry, I'm not angry. I overreacted as it is."

"No, really, it is I who overreacted."

She wrung her hands, shifting her weight. "Anyway, I just wanted to inform you that the invitation is still open, and I would be honored if you could attend."

Will blinked in amazement. It took him a while to find his voice. "Y-Yes," he eventually stuttered, nodding. "I- I would be honored to accept."

Elizabeth grinned. "I look forward to seeing you there."

"I as well, Miss Swann. Thank you."

"See what I mean!" Tom cried once she had left.

Will's look of sudden relief was slowly fading away. In fact, he looked a bit pale. He swallowed. "Uh-huh..."

"I think this is the first time that anyone from the servant's quarters has actually been invited to a celebration like this," he went on thoughtfully.

"Oh."

Tom frowned. "What's the matter? Aren't you happy?"

Will bit his lip. "It's just..."

Tom leaned forward. "What?"

"I can't dance."

TBC...