His brows furrowed concernedly at the revelation (a potion for sheep wool?) before a smile spread slowly across his features, finally reaching his eyes. As strange as the situation was for him - and not to mention uncomfortable for her - he couldn't help but find the way she spoke of it rather amusing.
His chest shook with a silent chuckle. "An expert salesman, I'm sure," he responded, "What better way to charm a woman than with your most revolutionizing invention?" He was teasing, of course; he wasn't sure he could handle the company of someone who was obsessed with themselves, let alone as a spouse.
Mrs. Flint might be the overbearing sort, too, he imagined, as her daughter seemed less than enthusiastic at the prospect of being returned to her. "I don't mind at all," he assured. "Do you need anything - a drink, perhaps?" They needed to move closer, or move at all, really; standing away from the rest of the party made them look almost conspiratorial, and he wasn't the type who reveled in seeing his name printed across the tabloids.
His chest shook with a silent chuckle. "An expert salesman, I'm sure," he responded, "What better way to charm a woman than with your most revolutionizing invention?" He was teasing, of course; he wasn't sure he could handle the company of someone who was obsessed with themselves, let alone as a spouse.
Mrs. Flint might be the overbearing sort, too, he imagined, as her daughter seemed less than enthusiastic at the prospect of being returned to her. "I don't mind at all," he assured. "Do you need anything - a drink, perhaps?" They needed to move closer, or move at all, really; standing away from the rest of the party made them look almost conspiratorial, and he wasn't the type who reveled in seeing his name printed across the tabloids.