For three days after that, Luke waited and thought, watching Meghan enter her school each day, and come out each afternoon. She'd catch him watching, and their eyes would lock for a few seconds, before she'd hastily turn away. He could tell that she was still reluctant to trust him.
So, on Friday afternoon, after watching that station wagon roll away yet again, Luke decided that he needed some help.
This decision was made as he stepped into his limousine, after a useless conversation with John, who was on his third girlfriend that week. He opened his palm pilot and checked his schedule for the rest of the day, to see if there'd be time - that was just something you did when you were Morris Brenshire's great-grandson. He was satisfied to see that for a while, he was clear.
Luke's car drove him in the opposite direction of where that station wagon had gone, into the aforementioned upper-class area. Within moments Luke saw sprawling mansions with their gates and courtyards. This didn't faze him; he was used to it.
When they arrived in front of one particularly huge mansion, with "Brenshire" etched in script on a sign bolted to the surrounding stone wall, Luke's driver started to slow down, preparing to turn into the drive as soon as the gates were opened.
"No." Luke told him. "Keep going."
Immediately, the driver understood. He signaled to the guard, telling him not to open the gate, before driving right on down the road.
They didn't have to go far before Luke arrived at his destination. Another guard stood out in front, behind similar-looking gates, that opened immediately to let the car through.
The boy got out, and thanked the driver, who would wait for him outside. He then walked up to the door, and rang the fancy-sounding doorbell.
The door was answered by a bald-headed man in a penguin suit.
"Master Luke." he said. "What a pleasant surprise."
Luke nodded and followed the butler inside.
"Are you here to see Miss Payne?" the man inquired.
"Actually, no." Luke answered.
A sly half-smile showed itself on the butler's face - he had already known the answer to that question.
"Right this way, then." he said, waving Luke along.
Henry was slumped over his work, reading, as usual. Going over things to make sure they made sense. Rewriting things to have them make more sense. Taking a swig of coffee every three minutes.
Oh, what was this? A knock on the door?
"Mother, I'm busy." he said, gently but loudly enough to hear.
"It's Master Luke, sir." came the reply. "He's here to speak with you."
He pondered a moment. Maybe a little break couldn't hurt.
"Alright, come in, come in." he told them.
The door opened, and the butler showed Luke in, before walking off down the hallway to tend to other butler things.
"Well, hello, Lucas." Henry said, in a bright yet exhausted greeting.
"Hello, Lord Dashwood." Luke responded as he sat down.
"Now you know I've told you a hundred times - call me Henry."
"Well, when you stop calling me 'Lucas', maybe I will."
The man smiled.
"Fair enough." he acknowledged. "Now, what can I do for you?"
Luke hesitated for a second.
"Well, I was hoping that you might possibly give me some advice."
Henry looked down and chuckled.
"Me? Advice?" he asked, puzzled. "Are you sure you've got the right person?"
"I'm quite sure, yes." Luke answered. A small smile appeared on his face.
"Well, alright then. What advice would you like?"
Luke thought.
"This is going to sound strange." he said, choosing his words carefully. "But it's concerning someone of the opposite sex."
Immediately, Henry grinned, narrowing his eyes.
"Oh, my, isn't this a surprise! A girl for Lucas Brenshire. Now that's something you don't see very often."
"Uh, right, not too often." Luke said, still a little hesitant. "But see, this is a little different."
"Really. How so?"
"Well, she's actually not from here."
Henry rubbed his chin, and pondered.
"Yes, that's probably why you're fond of her." he answered knowingly. "Where's she from then, Yorkshire?"
"No."
"Dartmoor?"
"No."
"Birmingham?"
"No. She's from New York."
The man stopped for a minute.
"New York, the state? In America?"
"Yes."
"Well, then. She really isn't from here, is she?"
"I told you."
"And you're madly in love with her."
Luke looked down.
"Well, I wouldn't say madly, exactly."
Henry chuckled again.
"Oh, trust me - if you're talking to me about a girl, it's madly."
"Well," Luke said, "the feeling isn't mutual."
"Oh?" came the response. "Why is that?"
Luke paused, again.
"Well, in short, she thinks I'm too good for her."
Silence. Henry ran his fingers through his hair.
"Is that so?" he finally said, more exhausted than before.
Luke sat there for a minute, watching intently as the man thought.
"Uh, Lord Dash - I mean, Henry?"
"Yes?"
"Do you...have any suggestions?"
"Oh, right. Well, uh, Luke, this kind of thing is very unlike you. I have a feeling you're quite serious about it."
The boy nodded.
"And if that's true, the best suggestion I can make is to, er, really let her know. Of your feelings, I mean."
Luke was quiet.
"How is that done?"
Henry thought intently.
"Well, something special, I should think. Perhaps."
"Like what?"
Silence.
"Sir?"
"Take her riding." Henry immediately declared.
A pause.
"W-what?"
"Take her riding. Now, if you'll excuse me, my coffee mug seems to be empty, and I find I simply must refill it."
Henry then examined the inside of the cup for a few more seconds, before standing up. He walked out, staring into space.
Luke was left there alone, a bit confused.
"Alright." he said to nobody.
Just then, he saw the butler walk by the open door. Having seen Luke in the office alone, the man backed up and looked in.
"That man doesn't get nearly enough sleep, does he?" Luke asked.
The butler shook his head.
Man, I reallyloved that look Faye got on her face when Luke approached me, and said what he said. When she realized that her geniusness had failed her this time.
I am, however, glad that she gave her input on the matter. I'm grateful, because I know she was only trying to protect me.
And although she had been wrong about the whole thing being a trick and all, there were still a few things she was right about. Like about it being unheard of for someone of his status to be interesting in someone...well, of my status. At least, publicly unheard of.
And she had been right about Clarissa crushing on him, that's for sure.
For these reasons, the reasons she's right, I am reluctant. Reluctant to be involved with Luke. I have two different parts of me telling me two different things.
The first part, honestly, feels quite strongly for that brown-haired boy. I know this because every time I see him, looking at me, all I really feel inclined to want to do is stand there and stare back. Stare back until one of us decides to come closer and make contact. And then, maybe I could talk to him, be around him, come to know him.
It is because of the second part that I turn away in haste. The part that tells me that getting involved with Luke is only going to make me get hurt. The part that says I'd be dancing around a wildfire, when the whole reason I'm here is to light a steady flame for someone else's happiness.
Does that make sense? I'm trying to be sensible about everything, low-profile, discreet. I want to show that I don't want to cause a huge uproar - I only want to tell the truth. A wrong move, and it'll be assumed that I was sent specifically by my aunt to, well, bring down the house.
And starting a whirlwind romance with Luke might slightly portray something on that order. I mean, what will Jocelyn, who's onto me, think when she sees me stealing her almost-step-granddaughter's love object.
So, there you have it. I'm afraid to advance on my pending affection (yes, I admit it, I have a pending affection) for Luke because of what everyone else will think.
Is it just me, or does that sound kinda familiar?
Well, there you are. I hope that was pleasing. The story's about to really start getting juicy...
Anywayz, let me know what you think! Next ones will be posted very soon!
-rf-