Very Truly Yours, Simone

7. the little changes

Of course, she told him she was excited for him. That he she was happy he was pursuing his dreams. She asked where they were headed next, and he said it was uncertain. "And that's the exciting part."

The exciting part.

He always said that. In his letters, he was always looking forward to something new.

Deep inside, Simone was envious. He was traveling to places she had not yet even been to. He was doing what he loved. While she only had to content herself with studying how to design dresses. Of course, he asked how her designs were doing. She told him about the new dresses she designed for her and Lydia and the little girls. He wanted to see them, but she was not confident yet, so she promised to send some by the post in the near future.

She told Lydia, of course, who asked, "Well, is he married?"

"I never got to ask. Perhaps not. He never mentioned it in his letters."

"One would think he would have already found a wife by now."

"I'm certain he would have told tell me."

"Of course, Sisi. You're friends."

Simone smiled. "Do you think he considers me a friend?"

"Well, you're not his sister, or his lover. Certainly not a stranger. You're a friend."

"Who is your new friend?" Price asked, squeezing himself between Simone and Lydia, resting his arms over their shoulders. Price had straight, light brown hair. He was easy to be around with, but he was cunning and sharp in a very nonchalant way. You would never know what bit you until he bared his bloody teeth.

"Someone from last season, a woman we met in one of the balls," Simone lied. "Have you any news on Mr. Haskett?"

"No, but we're hoping to find him soon." The three of them stopped outside the carriage. "I'll drop you both in the bazaar and return in two hours."

"Where are you going?"

"Business," he said, flicking her nose.

Price was also the forgetful kind. Two hours later, Simone and Lydia were still talking to Pauline.

"If he only settles here in Coulway, he would already be quite famous," their friend said, talking about Mr. Cavendish again. "I saw his play, and he was marvelous."

Simone smiled with pride. "Of course, he is. We tried to tell you."

"I know, but to see him with my own eyes—it was magnificent. I felt every emotion he portrayed."

"I'm quite excited to see his play tomorrow," said Lydia.

Simone said nothing, because she did not want her cousin to read more into her friendship with Daniel Cavendish. Or hint at the affections Simone may still have for the man, even after two years, and even after how she said many times before that she did not fancy him, which was slightly true. What she felt for Daniel Cavendish was adoration, but she was not hopeful.

They may merely have a foot between their windows, but their worlds were too far apart. His was exciting and magical, hers barely had little changes. He seemed to not be tied to any place or anyone, and she was tied to her family, to Abberton. He was living his dreams, she was still dreaming hers.

Lydia walked home alone after she got bored watching Simone and Mrs. Baker discuss about skirts and laces. Another hour later, with no sign of Price, she decided to go home as well. Saying goodbye to Pauline and Mrs. Baker, Simone walked the familiar streets back to Picadilly.

And there, by happenstance or fate (as she would prefer to call it), Daniel Cavendish found her.

"Miss Priest," he greeted with a small bow. "I'll walk with you," he announced with an easy smile, hands behind him.