He ought to have excused himself then, provided her with the privacy she desired. He might have suggested she change in his room, too, that way he could prepare the sofa to sleep on and clean up and residual mess. Only, Dory couldn't leave her. He'd given her space so that he was no longer inappropriately close and had averted his gaze to stare at the fireplace instead of the small of her back, but he couldn't take the final step of preserving her dignity.

Dory felt accutely aware of her movements, every little sigh or huff had him anxious to step in and help again. Not because he hoped more would come of this tonight, but it'd been his fault that she fell off the broom. It was his fault that she had nearly drowned and died as a result. Even if his body was continuing to betray him by the second he was remained dedicated to simply providing her a safe harbor. Doing so was the very least he could do.

Maple turned to face him and Dory felt his cheeks flush. He'd unlaced hundreds of corsets in his time and never once had it affected him like this. Never once had his palms turned clammy and his cheeks flame red at the very thought of his hands so near her chest. "Okay." He agreed without being asked, closing the distance between them once again so that he could help her. Had he always towered over her like this? Or was it some weird side effect of having saved her life tonight?

"Maple, I need you move your hands." Dory murmured as he attempted to begin to work only to be impeded by where her arms blocked her chest.

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