"We're not really having dinner with Catherine, right?" was the question that Lizzie asked five times during their relatively short car ride to the restaurant, and William refused to answer with anything other than a slight smile; she always thought it was so easy to guess what he was thinking, but now that look could mean just anything.

When they did get to the restaurant, she couldn't help but duck her head a little and sneak a look around the room, her ears straining to hear the familiar whimpers that belonged to Annie-kins; holding her hand, William smirked - the table they arrived at was set for two.

Lizzie knew she had been had then, and wanted to huff, to shove him, to stomp her foot, but she couldn't do any of those things, because they were in one of the nicest restaurants in town and she was in a dress and heels and it would just be rude, so she only glared at him as he smiled smugly at her from across the table, promising herself that she'd make him pay later.