Yay! Here are the chapters as promised.
Christine Writer: Oh, yes, I do wonder...
The Ditzy One: Don't worry, I'm lazy too. :P Happy to have you in suspense!
Mrs.Scott323: Muuaaha. (sorry, too much Alastair and Clarissa)
It seemed like forever, how long they were staring. Meghan had quickly withdrawn from Jocelyn, now sitting up straight in her chair, trying unsuccessfully to keep from blushing. Jocelyn was startled for a moment, but then looked relatively calm as she, too, straightened herself up, smiling.
"Why, hello, Henry dear. Meghan here and I were just having tea. Would you like to join us?"
Henry, who looked very blank and befuddled, shifted his eyes back and forth from Meghan, to his mother, to the ground. He then gathered himself somewhat, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Mother..." he said, in a confused tone. You didn't tell me we were having guests..."
"Well, I didn't know we were either, dear. But I think it's rather nice that this very sweet girl decided to pay us a visit."
Henry rubbed his neck some more.
"Eh...yes! Yes, you're right, Mother..."
He approached Meghan decisively.
"Terribly sorry. I've forgotten my manners. Meghan, is it?"
She nodded.
"Hello. I'm Henry. Pleasure to meet you." he said, holding out his hand.
Meghan vaguely took it, still fixated on his face, lost in a dream.
"Hi." was all she could force herself to say. "You too."
She saw the man smile.
"My, you're the American, aren't you?" he asked her.
Meghan couldn't help but smile a bit as well, hearing every word he said and hanging off of each of them.
"Yeah...I mean, yes, I am."
They were caught in each other's gaze for a good three seconds, both smiling. Then, Henry regained himself, softly slipping his hand away from Meghan's and standing straight up.
"Right then. Anyhow, very sorry for interrupting, I'll just be getting back to my work..."
"Didn't you have something you wanted to tell me, Henry?" Jocelyn quipped as he was about to leave.
Henry turned.
"Er...I was only going to show you these papers, they're quite confusing though, really, and seeing as you're occupied right at the moment, I won't bother you with this..."
"Nonsense. Why don't we all move into the sitting room, and you can show me your papers in there. I've have Ganes start a fire, I should think that would be quite pleasant."
"But I'm sure Miss Meghan wouldn't be interested in..."
Jocelyn had already bustled out the door. Henry watched after her for a moment, then slowly turned to Meghan.
"Well, shall we follow her?" he asked the girl, giving in with a bit of a half-smile.
Meghan smiled and nodded. She stood up, and Henry waited for her to reach the door. He then felt so inclined as to lace his arm through hers, sort of jokingly, to nobly "escort" her into the sitting room. Chills ran up Meghan's spine. Daphne. Daphne was related to this man, and Meghan was touching him.
They emerged back into the room Meghan had already walked through, where the butler was already starting a roaring fire. Meghan saw Jocelyn seated on one end of a small sofa with carved wood edges and clawed feet. Meghan separated from Henry and apprehensively sat on the other end, while the remaining member of the group took his seat in a matching armchair near his mother.
The three were soon left alone in front of the crackling flames, and Meghan was soon forced to remove her coat. Henry, not sure what else to do, began to discuss the infamous papers with his mother, who seemed to be extremely intrigued.
What does he need that advisor for? Meghan found herself thinking. She seems good enough.
Inevitably, it seemed, Henry ran out of things to discuss about the documents, and Meghan was soon remembered and thrown back into the conversation. By Jocelyn, of course.
"So, Meghan. What is it like in New York? Do you have an apartment?"
Meghan wasn't sure for a moment how Jocelyn had known that it was specifically New York that she came from. Then she remembered the news stories, the articles that had already been written about her. She answered.
"I live in an old artist's loft." she said simply.
"How very interesting! With your parents, I presume?"
"No, just my mom. And my aunt and cousin."
"Lovely. What does your mother do?"
Henry seemed to be staring at the wall. Meghan wanted to stare at the wall with him. But she kept her eyes directed at Jocelyn.
"She's an executive's assistant."
"Ah. And your aunt?"
Meghan tensed.
"My aunt's in the wedding business." she replied, as evenly as she could. "Kind of like my host-mother, Emma."
"Oh, would that be Emma Winthrop? The renowned wedding planner from Ireland?"
"You know her?"
"Oh, yes!" Jocelyn answered. "She planned the Harrison wedding."
"Oh."
A long silence immediately followed, as Jocelyn had apparently run out of questions. She certainly was trying.
Meghan remembered that her etiquette book had mentioned something about not being the monopolizing subject of a conversation, about asking others about themselves. But Meghan couldn't very well ask Henry and Jocelyn about where they lived, or what they did. She obviously already knew.
Meghan saw that Henry seemed kind of nervous - as she was - which made her heart flutter. It showed...it showed that he remembered Aunt Libby. Maybe he was thinking about her. Right now.
But Meghan knew she had to find a way to change the subject. Some way to make everything less dry, less tense. Like Henry had done, slipping his arm through hers.
She looked around the room, trying to find something she could compliment them on, or ask them about. Her eyes settled on a chess table, standing dormant in the corner.
"You have a chess game?" she suddenly asked Henry a burst of nerve.
The charmingly anxious man took a second to comprehend the question, which he'd barely heard despite the fact that Meghan had said it quite clearly and audibly. He then absentmindedly glanced over at the chess table.
"Hmmm? Why, yes. We do. I er, never really use it though. No one around here other than myself is very much interested in the game. My advisor's actually the only one who knows how to play, and I can't get him to sit down long enough. I'd always like a go at it, but I've usually got no one to play it with."
It was then that Meghan, once again, did something that she thought was completely crazy.
"I know how to play chess." she told him.
Henry looked up, and his mouth twisted once again into a bit of a smile.
"Really...what say we have a game then, eh? You and me?" he said, with a little hesitation.
"Okay." Meghan answered.
His smiled broadened a little as he nodded his head toward the table, signaling Meghan to stand as he stood himself. Soon they were both seated facing each other over a small, checkered game board. Jocelyn, who indeed seemed very content with this, picked up a book and started to read, while the fire crackled on.
"Best two out of three?" Henry asked.
"Sure." Meghan answered.
She wasn't quite sure what to make of this. This very strange activity she was partaking in. For about the fifteenth time since she'd first received her congratulatory letter, Meghan again felt surreal. About half an hour ago, she had been standing out in the rain, a common person blocked out by iron bars. Now, she was inches away from him. Now, he existed. Now, this was reality.
Meghan moved the pawns, but wasn't thinking about the game. It was all just too incredible.
"Check mate."
She loved her cousin, so very much. She knew her like no one knew her, her aunt had said. And Meghan could see her in this man. Her chess partner.
"How do like London?" Henry suddenly asked.
Meghan looked up at him, and could do nothing but let words spill out.
"I love London. I think it's beautiful."
Henry crossed his fingers together and looked up, and away. He seemed to be in some kind of wondrous thought.
"Yes, it is a fine city, isn't it?" he said mistily. "What made you want to come here?"
When Meghan paused, he seemed to bristle, as if he thought the question was a bad idea. Meghan saw this, and smiled.
"I'm not really sure." she told him. "I think this is just my city. You know, the one I've always dreamed of coming to."
Henry's eyes were locked on the brown-haired girl as she moved one of the game pieces, but really moved him more.
"Because most people dream about New York. But I already live there. So this was the 'somewhere else', and I think when most people dream, their dreams are 'somewhere else'. And I think I just had to come here. I really don't know why. I just did."
And now, he was the one who was floored. My, it had been such a long time since someone had talked to him in such a way...
"It's your turn." Meghan informed him with a little grin.
His mind snapped back to the game, and he did in fact take his turn, before promptly making a surprised announcement.
"I...I win." he told her.
Meghan looked at the board. He was right.
"Oh. Would you look at that." Meghan said rather carelessly.
Henry grinned. A goofy grin, Meghan thought. A little smug, even.
"Well. And I thought you could play chess." he said slyly.
Meghan couldn't help herself. She grinned back.
"Okay. So that's how it is. Well, there's still two games left, and mark my words, you're going down, buddy. You are going down."
It was as if Daphne had taken over her body. And yet, she was sitting right in front of her.
Henry chuckled at this.
"We'll see about that." he said, a little cocky as he set up the board for round two.
And so, an hour passed. But it seemed like five minutes of a wonderful dream. Because they talked.
Not about things. Or people. But about the game they were playing, which was trivial but somehow made important as Meghan Reynolds and Henry Dashwood began to cross a bridge from different sides that met in the middle. A bridge that bypassed the social ladder and made it obsolete, casting aside differences of 'money' and 'class' and 'nationality', as if they were what were trivial. What a concept.
"Oh, so that's how you're going to play it. Okay, well, how does this suit you?"
"Ah. Very clever. But I have a plan."
"Plan, huh? Good luck with that."
"Oh, luck. I don't need luck."
"Of course not! You have it all figured out. But did you expect...this?"
"Indeed I did not. No bother. Slight change of my plan. Still a right good plan, though."
"I'm sure. I mean, if it includes losing."
"It does include losing. Your losing."
"Aren't you smart?"
And they somehow forgot a little, who they were talking to. Right now, it didn't matter. Just a silly game, though.
It was another hour later. Henry actually had gone down, with Meghan winning both of the next two rounds. They'd played more rounds after that, and somehow lost track of time. Reluctantly, Jocelyn had interrupted them, telling them to stop for high tea.
"I really must get back to work." Henry commented, somewhat back to his senses at this. "But...I am rather hungry for some...watercress sandwiches."
He ate these five minutes later, back in the tearoom. The three of them sat in silence - but it was a more contented silence.
Meghan watched him eat. She watched him take a tiny bite of sandwich, then immediately set it down on his plate to take a tiny sip of tea. He then wiped his hands a bit on the fabric napkin he had in his lap, and started again, only with two bites. After taking another sip and wiping once more, he bit into the sandwich again, springing for a whopping four bites this time.
I guess he's savoring the - okay, that's just creepy.
Meghan ate and sipped as well, and kept watching. There he was. Right in front of her.
It would be so easy.
And right now, Meghan was sure, Daphne was sitting - or maybe sleeping, with that stinking time difference - alone. Alone in that little room, while Meghan sat right next to her father.
Daphne's father. That's who she'd been joking and laughing with. Meghan couldn't laugh and joke with her father - because he was gone.
But Daphne's father was here. Right here. This was her chance.
Meghan looked at him.
"Can I ask you something?"
Henry paused the relentless chewing of his tiny bite of sandwich to look back at Meghan. He looked calm and open as he swallowed and gave her his answer.
"I...don't suppose why not."
And right then, Meghan began to feel very, very hot. Her heart began to pound, hard and fast. She would have to...to force it...she could do this...
"I was just wondering if...if maybe you knew..."
"Sir." came a voice.
Henry turned to look behind him, and Meghan saw that the voice came from Ganes, the waiter.
"Yes?"
"Master Luke is here to see you."
Luke?
Someone new entered the room.
"Lord Dashwood, I have a note from my father..."
The newcomer caught sight of the American girl and stopped.
"Meghan?" Luke questioned, wide-eyed in shock. "What are you doing here?"