February 7th, 1891 — Luncheon, Bartonburg
After a short contract had seen him out to see for three weeks of January, Alfred was happy to be back home in London — not because he had any particular attachment to his flat or the city in general, nor because he had any particular interest in being invited to things simply for the sake of it, but rather because being able to accept invitations gave him more chances to see Zelda. It also gave him more chances for positive exposure to her family, but — well, frankly, he wasn't the best at that. He'd start off whatever event it was with the very best of intentions, but then sooner or later he'd start feeling mischievous and he'd get himself into trouble. Zelda had that affect on him; she was easy to get into trouble with. Even at this luncheon he'd already found his mind wandering. They were seated next to each other, which was a nice change. Could he slip a hand onto her knee under the table without her chaperon noticing, he wondered?
It was too early to get into trouble, though; the first course hadn't even come out yet, and so far it had only been tea and biscuits. It had been quite a long interval between their arrival and the beginning of the first course, but he gathered that was part of the plan for the day; lots of time between each dish to wander around the room, mingling and talking with people from other tables. Given that he had no particular interest in talking to anyone other than Zelda, though, he was disinclined to make use of such periods.
He had been in the middle of telling her an anecdote about one of his sailors during their port call to Lisbon when word reached the two of them, through another person at the table, that there was some magic afoot with the biscuits. Something to do with romance — cheeks turning colors while you were looking at someone you liked.
"How silly," he muttered to Zelda under his breath, speaking quietly in case the hostess or one of her close friends was near enough to hear. "I hope you like the way I look with pink cheeks," he teased, picking up the remaining half of a biscuit from his plate and taking a defiant bite.
@"Zelda Fisk" Cassius Lestrange
MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER