The Game of Love

Ch.3

Lucy

Lyla and I sat on Simon's bed discussing the coming ball at the great hall. Simon was sat on the far side of his room writing a note to some correspondent.
"Simon," I inquire, "to whom are you writing that to?"
He shakes himself from a daze, "not anyone you would know of."
I squint my eyes, "How would you know that?"
His tense expression is replaced by that of a knowing one, "I find it hard to believe you would be acquainted with anyone but the characters in your books."
I mock his expression, "Well maybe that's how I like it."
"I never thought otherwise," he responds offhandedly.
"Really?" I say under my breath, not to anyone specific.
Ly pats my shoulder, "Oh, Lu, you know everyone believes you're content the way you are with nothing but your books and a chair in your room."
I nod, "well they would be correct to believe so."
And I too believe it myself but I can't help the nagging in my heart from coming to my attention. What about a life with someone who— but that is not possible. I shall never find the means to entertain a man in the way they wish, nor will I be capable of finding a man who interests me enough to abandon my life of comfort and nothingness. But haven't I? Haven't I found just the man who makes me forget all about this life? He has been known to me five years and yet nothing about me could spark that interest from him. I decided long ago that I was destined for quiet admiration and a desire for more than I am meant for.
We spend the rest of our day talking and making quiet attempts to enter the kitchen for a secret meal to bring to the swing outside.
Simon sits on the swinging bench with a scone in his hand and Ly sits beside him in a blanket. I am under the shade of a tree with my book. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a carriage approach the entrance of our estate. It is all too familiar these past couple days.
"Sir Fitzworth," Ly says with an exasperated sigh, "When will he learn to give up?"
"Miss Avondale!" He says as he exits his carriage, "I apologize for not making my visit known before my arrival," Ly nods exaggerating, "but I was just passing through and thought it would be a wonderful delight for us to see one another!"
"I see," she says, not moving from her spot on the blanket.
"Would you mind if I join you three?" He says approaching us, clearly not planning on refusal.
"Yes, we would actually," I say under my breath.
"What was that Miss Avondale?" He says in my direction, "goodness this can be confusing with two miss Avondales!"
I smile blankly, he obviously was not interested to hear what I might have said.
He takes a deep breath, "I admit there is another reason for my intrusion on your afternoon," he sighs, "I was deeply mortified by the events of last fortnight," he continues with a meaningful gesture to his head, "I wanted to tell you that I have fully forgiven you and wish to continue with our— well— I suppose it is not a court—"
Simon stands from his seat, "you mean to say you are courting my younger sister without the permission of either of our parents, or myself for that matter?"
Fitzworth sputters, "why, of course not! I only— I suppose I hadn't given it great thought— I only supposed that there was a mutual—"
"Mutual?" I scoff from my seat at the trunk of my tree. There is a surprised silence at my sudden vocality, and they each turn to me before returning back to their prior.
"Well, I— I was under the impression that there was a kind of mutual—"
"You would have misunderstood then, I'm afraid." Simon says haughtily.
"That's enough!" Lyla says, grabbing Simon's arm and pulling him to crouch beside herself and to me.
"You all need to allow me to handle this," she says.
I stare at her suspiciously then my eyes widen, "you— you do like him?" She puts her hand to my mouth to hush me.
"No! Of course not!" But her reddened cheeks fail her.
"Oh yes you do!" Simon laughs quietly.
"I do not like him, I only enjoy playing with his advances!" She says and I do believe her sincerity because it is so characteristic of her to do such a thing.
"Alright," Simon and I say in unison and Lyla releases both our arms that she is gripping and stands up to face Fitzworth.
"Would you care to take a stroll?" She asks, holding her elbow out for him to hold.
He nods and they begin down the trail.
Simon and I both laugh when we see they are out of sight.
"I should have known she enjoyed toying with him! It is too much like her not to!" Simon says between gasps of air.
"Seriously," I say, "I suppose he must be aware of it too or else he wouldn't continue this 'courtship' with her, if that is what it is."
"Yes, he must," Simon agrees, "but out of every honorable suitor that has been at our doorstep for her, how can he be the one she wants?"
"I don't know," I sigh, "she has a queer way of going about things."