Where there's tea, there's hope.

Thomas tried not to be nervous. It was silly to indulge in that, wasn't it? It was just a nice afternoon tea, with a lovely woman. He should be practiced at this; it should feel like old hat.

But that was the thing: it wasn't, really. Edith had been the first choice he ever made, the first woman he ever pursued because he liked her. And now here he was again, about to spend time with someone he genuinely liked, that he was interested in by virtue of the fact that-- well, he was interested. And that meant sincerity, and sincerity meant vulnerability, and--

No, he would not get wound up about this. He wouldn't be an anxious mess - Greta deserved a lovely afternoon, and he would endeavor to give her one. His favorite teahouse was decorated for the season, and he'd gotten them a table in a cozy corner between the fireplace and a window. Since it was afternoon tea, they had a lovely assortment of sandwiches and desserts available for them to have at their leisure.

He'd dressed... nicely, but not overly fancy. It wasn't high tea, after all, and even if it was, modern tea service was quite different than what he remembered. No gloves required. A waistcoat and no proper jacket seemed appropriate.

As soon as he saw Greta walk in, Thomas rose from his seat and remained standing as she was guided to the table by the hostess.