Naturally he was being a perfect gentleman, and she felt struck by guilt that she had apparently not noticed how perfect he was before, even from afar. It was a wonder all her friends were not in love with him already. She focused on blowing out a slow breath, sure that the shallow breathing from his hand at her back hadn’t been helping matters.
“No, no – that’s not necessary,” Callista insisted, more quickly than necessary as he mentioned chaperones. Her father or her grandmother, seeing her like this? She was sure something foolish would be evident in her expression, or even in the way she now kept studiously avoiding Mr. Harper’s gaze. They would have words for her, no doubt. (And weren’t the Harpers halfbloods, anyway? She ought not even be thinking that way –)
Because she had rebuffed that suggestion, she felt helpless but to take his next piece of advice, and gingerly took a sip. (If the drink had not addled her feelings, then perhaps it might just clear her head.) She managed a smile at him that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Thank you,” she said again, embarrassed at herself. She hated to cause a scene. “I don’t know what’s come over me. Perhaps,” she suggested slowly, out of some secret selfish desire to learn more about him, although she knew already that wouldn’t help, “if we could continue our conversation, and you could tell me something more about yourself? The distraction might help.”
“No, no – that’s not necessary,” Callista insisted, more quickly than necessary as he mentioned chaperones. Her father or her grandmother, seeing her like this? She was sure something foolish would be evident in her expression, or even in the way she now kept studiously avoiding Mr. Harper’s gaze. They would have words for her, no doubt. (And weren’t the Harpers halfbloods, anyway? She ought not even be thinking that way –)
Because she had rebuffed that suggestion, she felt helpless but to take his next piece of advice, and gingerly took a sip. (If the drink had not addled her feelings, then perhaps it might just clear her head.) She managed a smile at him that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Thank you,” she said again, embarrassed at herself. She hated to cause a scene. “I don’t know what’s come over me. Perhaps,” she suggested slowly, out of some secret selfish desire to learn more about him, although she knew already that wouldn’t help, “if we could continue our conversation, and you could tell me something more about yourself? The distraction might help.”
