Chapter Text
He had been keeping his eye on her for over a year. They had first met when he had applied for an afterschool job as a stock boy at her father's hardware store when he had been a junior in high school. His family had never had money to spare, and even though William was a highly skilled soccer player, in fact, was the captain of the varsity team at his school, who might have had a shot at being offered an athletic scholarship for men's soccer to help fund his way to college, he knew he would need additional income if he wanted to leave home and make a better life for himself than that of his father, who, in William's eyes, was only a blue-collar laborer.
He had applied in person for the position and had met her as he turned in his application at the store. She had looked up from a book she was studying on chess moves behind the counter, her expression unable to hide her irritation with him for having interrupted her reading. But as she continued to peer at William, shrewdly taking in the measure of him, he noticed that her eyes had started to soften as she accepted the completed application from his outstretched hand.
She assured him that she would give the application to her father to review, then asked, after hearing his voice, thick with a Scottish brogue, "Aren't you that boy whose family is from Glasgow? My father mentioned that a family from Scotland had moved into the neighborhood over the summer, and I believe Papa said that he's been receiving a fair amount of business from your father in terms of him purchasing construction supplies."
As she spoke to him, William looked at her more closely, observing her clear blue eyes under her dark, long lashes, her straight nose, and her mouth in the perfect shape of a bow, with full lips the color of dragon fruit, and her golden blonde hair drawn back into a ponytail, tied with a red satin ribbon. As he peered at her, he thought she was one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen, and if he had to guess, he would have bet money that she had no idea how lovely she was, even as a girl of 14. He also noticed that the longer he gazed at her, the more flushed her cheeks became, as she waited for him to answer her question.
"Aye, I am that boy from Glasgow. I'm Will Wellington, and my family moved here when my father took a job with a construction firm, although he does some freelance carpentry on the side too. And you? Who might you be?"
She had been gazing at him from beneath her lashes, this lanky boy with his unruly, dark curly hair that fell over his brow, light freckles that scattered across his cheeks and nose, and eyes of the deepest green she had ever seen. There was a softness in his eyes she had not expected to find. And she found them a little unnerving, as they clearly were assessing her, while they stood opposite each other on either side of the counter. If she was honest with herself, she liked everything about his face, including his slightly crooked nose and his mouth, with its straight white teeth and its lips that easily curved into a smile that made her heart skitter in her chest. She realized that she had been staring at him intently, perhaps too intently.
She swallowed hard and cleared her throat to answer, "I'm Eliza Scarlet, as in Henry Scarlet's daughter. Nice to meet you, Will Wellington," and she extended her hand to him. He took it in his own and shook it firmly.
"Nice to meet you, too, Eliza. Would you be sure to give my application to your father to peruse? I really could use this job he has advertised for a stock boy. If you would, please tell him that I'll plan to stop in again tomorrow afternoon after school to see whether he has made a decision about me. Thank you."
He was just about to turn away from her when she asked, "Does anyone call you William?"
"Just me Ma," he answered, his eyebrows lifting in surprise at the unexpected nature of her question.
"Would you mind if I called you William?"
"Suit yourself, Eliza. Something tells me that you'd call me William even if I told you to call me Will instead." He grinned at her, his eyes twinkling as he watched her brow start to furrow at his response, Eliza struggling to keep her mouth from dropping open. "Now I need to head off to soccer practice, but tell your father I'll return tomorrow for his answer. See you then, Eliza." And with that, WIlliam nodded at her, turned, and headed out of the store, feeling like the next time they met, she would be only too ready with her rebuttal. Their interaction today might be the only time he would ever get the jump on her, and the thought made him laugh in spite of himself.
That was how it had all started between them. That one meeting with her, when she was an eighth grader and he, a junior newly transferred in to Meriwether Lewis High School from Scotland.
Her father had, of course, given William the job as his stock boy when he returned the following day, as he had promised he would. He began working two afternoons per week and on Saturdays almost immediately, and Eliza's father had been pleased with William's work ethic and productivity. He was reliable and punctual, always ready to work hard, and Eliza had to admit that she too was impressed with his diligence and care in executing his responsibilities. When she had first met him, she thought he might be more devoted to playing soccer for his high school team. But she soon found that William was able to focus on the task at hand, and when he was working at the hardware store, he was committed to his duties and not thinking of his upcoming games or practices.
Gradually over the ensuing year, she and William had become friends, speaking more and more often while he was working at her father's store. Their friendship had begun with a few words exchanged here and others spoken there, as Eliza did not want to interfere with William tending to his responsibilities, but when he was on break from his work, he would sit with her and ask how her chess game was progressing. Eventually, they started playing chess during his breaks, and although he was a far better player than she had assumed he would be, he had only won against her a handful of times. Still, William was more of a challenge to beat than her father or her classmates in the chess club had ever been.
For his part, William noticed that Eliza seemed to seek out his company while he was working, at first sitting around the store, overtly reading chess manuals as she taught herself new strategies. But he often felt her eyes on him as she feigned indifference to his sweeping the floors or stocking the shelves, smiling to himself at her obvious struggle to appear completely uninterested in him. When they were both in the same high school, Eliza, now a freshman and William, a senior, he noticed that, on days when he had soccer practice, he could look up into the bleachers and see her sitting near the top row, her nose in a book. Occasionally she would glance up at him and give him a shy smile. On those days, he would ask her to wait for him after practice and walk part of the way home with him. And on those days, she always granted his request.
Eliza soon realized that his teammates called him Duke, and when she asked him why they had given him this moniker, he had explained that it was because his last name was Wellington, as in the Duke of Wellington, a British statesman and military war hero who had defeated Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. The nickname seemed to suit him when he was playing on the field, but she also noticed that the name and the boy who answered to it attracted the attention of several of the more popular girls at their school, including the captain of the cheerleading squad, a senior named Shelby Patterson.
Shelby had begun to stop in at the Scarlets' hardware store while William was working in order to flirt with him, coming in under the guise of needing to purchase some supplies and equipment for her grandfather. Eliza had tried to intercept her on a few occasions by asking Shelby how she could assist her. When Shelby ignored Eliza's offers of help and instead made a beeline to where William was working in the store, he tactfully reminded her that while he was happy to help her find what she needed, he could not take time to "chat" with her afterward; after all, he had a job to do here at the store and could not afford to lose it. Trying to let her down easy, he told Shelby that she could see him during soccer practice the following day, when the cheerleading squad also had practice, if not during the school day itself.
When Shelby left the hardware store, throwing a coquettish smile over her shoulder at William as she went, Eliza, who had been watching the entire interaction between them with her arms crossed firmly over her chest, offered, "You do realize that she is into you, don't you, William?" in a terse voice that betrayed her jealousy and insecurity.
Cocking one of his dark eyebrows at her, William paused and then tried to sound nonchalant as he replied, "I do know when a girl likes me, Eliza. But I am not into her." He waited, and as he did, he could not keep the corners of his mouth from turning up into a grin as he revealed, "I like someone else far better."
His eyes held hers, and he could see them widen in astonishment, as his words began to take hold in her mind. But he also saw a shadow of uncertainty flicker in her blue eyes, as she grew flustered under his steady gaze. She seemed to contemplate whether she wanted him to tell her who that someone else was or whether she just wanted to ignore his statement until she knew how to deal with it, and more importantly, how she felt about him. He could see the gears turning in her mind as she considered the differences in their ages and their circle of friends - well, his circle of friends and her lack of them - and the fact that William was her father's employee, let alone a jock who could have any popular girl in the school whom he wanted. It all seemed a little too much for her at that moment, although if he had to guess he would have said that she'd known something was happening between the two of them; she just hadn't expected him to confront her about it quite so soon.
Letting her eyes drop from his, she let out a sigh and said, "You really should get back to work. I don't want you to end up having to stay late this evening to finish up. Don't you have a game tomorrow afternoon? You'll need your rest."
She moved to step away from him when she heard him ask, "Eliza, is that all you've got to say? That I should get back to work?" He was leaning on the handle of the broom he had pulled from its storage place after Shelby had departed, his eyes willing hers to look at him, to no avail.
She paused with her back to him, then turned her head to the side without raising her eyes to meet his and said, "For now...yes, William. I...I have some homework that I just remembered is due tomorrow that I need to complete. If you'll excuse me." And then she made her way down the nearest aisle toward the back storeroom.
As he watched her retreating figure, he cursed under his breath for spooking her, mentally kicking himself for not waiting a little longer before letting her know he cared for her. He had hoped though that they were close enough friends that she should not have been surprised by his having developed feelings for her. He thought that she might have been developing feelings for him too. He reluctantly returned to the task of sweeping the floor of the store, wondering when or if she would make a reappearance before the end of his shift. She did not.
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The next time he saw her, she acted as if he had never said those suggestive words to her at all, but instead prattled on about his soccer games, asking when did his season end and how many more games would he play before then. He let her lead their conversations in whatever direction she wanted, and gradually over the next several months, he could see her composure returning. She began to meet his eyes again when they spoke, and she also started to stand closer to him when they were in the store together. Most telling of all, however, was that she asked him to again play chess with her, which required them to be in close proximity to each other for extended periods of time.
He hadn't told her, but while she had been getting used to the idea that William had feelings for her beyond a platonic friendship and that she returned his feelings, William had been polishing his chess game in the evenings with his father, as he attempted to up his skills in the game. He figured that if he could be a more challenging player for Eliza, then perhaps they could spend more time together during their matches, and he could convince her that he was sincere in his feelings for her.
His patience with her paid off one Saturday evening, as they sat together after William had finished working in the store. She had asked if he wanted to stay a bit after his shift to play a game of chess with her, and he had agreed in what he hoped did not sound too eager a voice. She was still beating him, but she had noticed that he had made some shrewd moves that she had not anticipated, thus drawing out their game.
"You've really improved your chess game, William."
"I like to think that I have, Eliza. I've been playing with me Da now that soccer season is over, and I have had more time at home in the evenings."
"I didn't realize that you had your own chess set," she replied, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice as she quickly looked up at him from the board; she knew that he had not had a chess set at home when they first started playing together.
"Well, I do now. I found one at a church rummage sale not too long ago, and while it is not as fine as this one here, it does the trick, and I've been practicing my game.
"Practicing because you hope to win against me?"
"Not so much that as to better my skills and present more of a challenge to you when we do play. I can't be a pushover for you every time we go up against each other, Eliza." His hand had been on his bishop, as his mind tried to decide which move to make, when he raised his eyes to find her blue eyes watching him carefully.
She smiled at him and said, "Well, it would seem that your efforts have paid off. Still, you might want to rethink whether to move that bishop of yours right now."
He smiled back at her, his fingers coming off the bishop as his eyes held hers. Clearing his throat and keeping his voice soft and low, he began, "Eliza, may I ask you something? And before you immediately say 'No' to my proposal, will you at least think about what I've asked you?"
His question startled her. The fact that he was asking her not to answer him right away made her aware of the more serious nature of his question and that it did not relate to their current chess game. But when she gazed back at him and saw the warmth and sincerity of his green eyes, she knew that she owed it to him to be respectful and consider his request, even if she ended up not granting it.
Who was she kidding though? she chided herself. How likely was it that she would deny him his request when she had slowly been coming to terms with the fact that William did things to her heart that she had never anticipated anyone could do, let alone an 18 year-old handsome, charming boy from Scotland with a disarming lilt to his voice. She had started to wonder whether she was falling in love with him, but she wasn't sure whether what she felt was truly that emotion since she was only 15 and didn't have a mother whom she could ask. She didn't dare discuss her growing feelings for William with her father because she didn't want to cost William his job or have her father tell her she was too young to date.
Shaking herself from her thoughts, she answered in a teasing voice, "Oh, dear. That sounds a bit ominous, William, especially with that lead-in to your question. Perhaps you should just come out with it without further preamble."
He swallowed hard and tried not to let her words derail him, but he was feeling a bit nervous about trying to talk to her again about what was happening between them after her response the last time he had made an attempt. He reminded himself that he just needed to keep his voice steady and soft.
"Eliza, the Valentine's Ball is coming up in a few weeks, on that Friday evening before the long Presidents' Day weekend. I didn't go to last year's ball, but now, as a senior, this would be my last opportunity to attend it at our high school. I'd like to go and was wondering if you would consider ... going with me." He sat back in his chair, the words out between them, hovering over the chess board like a puff of warm air, while he waited for her response. He kept his hands on the table, although his instinct was to fold his arms over his chest to protect himself after making himself vulnerable to her potential rejection. He observed her closely and saw the shock in her eyes, followed by a glint of fear.
"But William, I am only a freshman."
"So? It is your school too, and, as far as I know, all students are welcome to attend, not just upperclassmen."
"But what will your friends say about you taking a girl who's a freshman to the dance?" she queried, her voice coming out as a nervous squeak.
"I don't really care what my friends say. I only care about what you say and whether you will say, 'Yes'."
He noticed that she had started biting her bottom lip, worrying it beneath her teeth as she contemplated his request.
"What about Shelby Patterson? Why aren't you asking her? Clearly, she would go with you in a heartbeat. And she's a senior. It's her last chance to go to the Valentine's Ball too." It almost seemed to William as if she was trying to deflect his invitation onto the other girl. Either that, or Eliza was still feeling a bit jealous about Shelby's persistent attempts to catch William's eye.
"Eliza, the question wasn't whether I should ask Shelby Patterson to the Valentine's Ball. It was whether you would like to go with me. I would like you to accompany me to the dance. Not another girl, just you, Eliza Scarlet. Would you go with me as my ...guest?" He had held himself back from using the word "date".
Sensing that he had deliberately chosen a different, less intimidating word at the end of his request, she pulled out the word she guessed he had really meant to use and put it on the table between them, asking pointedly, "Would it be a date, William, or would we just be going as friends?"
"I think you know why I am asking you to go with me, but if it makes it easier for you to say 'Yes', then you can think of it in terms of us going as friends," he answered, trying to keep his voice calm and yet convincing at the same time. He didn't want her to decline his invitation; he would let her think of it in whatever terms she wanted if it would allow her to agree to go with him.
Turning his words over in her mind, she reached up to sweep her bangs from her forehead, then tucked a loose wisp of her golden hair behind her ear. Finally raising her eyes to his, she replied, "I would have to ask my father first whether he'll allow me to go, but if he says that I may go with you, then...yes, I will go with you to the Valentine's Ball." She paused to flash a dazzling smile at him, then said, "Thank you for asking me, William. Now - it is still your move, but I would advise you not to move your bishop. That's if you want our game to continue."
"Och, of course, you're right, Eliza," he replied, as his eyes glanced down at the chess board and for the first time saw what might have happened if he had, in fact, moved his bishop. He looked back up into her smiling blue eyes and grinned, not caring whether she captured his bishop or not. She had already captured his heart, and he was utterly thrilled that she had said "Yes".
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Stay tuned for Part 2. She's All That