Victor wondered whether Endymion Dempsey had guessed his purpose tonight and was being intentionally opaque in everything he said or whether he was somehow oblivious to the subtext. Victor didn't think he was being especially subtle, at least not at the last remark, but the response of a few gave him nothing at all to work with. On the one hand, this was grounds for suspicion. Victor had a sister with a hopeless character flaw; he knew how these sorts of conversations went from the other side. Was the impenetrable wall of deflection here covering up something serious? Or was Victor only seeing monsters in shadows precisely because of his experience trying to convince people to overlook Beatrice's lack of social graces?
The mention of suitors distracted him entirely. It was reasonable and expected that a woman with (as he'd phrased it) experience in the marriage market would have had suitors, but this was the first reference to them he'd heard. Miss Dempsey had talked of men, but in the abstract; he had not determined from her conversation that she had received or rebuffed any offers (or even had gone very far towards one with any particular gentleman), and yet this line from her brother seemed to imply that was the case after all. He felt — defensive? Yes, that was the feeling, odd as it was. Without knowing a thing about any of these previous men (and without having taken any concrete steps to actually join their ranks with the title of suitor yet) he felt that someone, somewhere must have been comparing him with them, and Victor was anxious about being found lacking. The way Endymion had framed it may have been a contributing factor — she's not one to settle was almost a challenge. If none of the previous suitors were good enough, it seemed to say, what would make Victor any different?
He was not without qualities to recommend him, he had to remind himself. He was going to inherit someday, and even without that he had a stable income owing to his position at the hospital. His family may not have been the Pendergasts or the Prewetts but neither were they unknowns. He was intelligent, and they had gotten along in their prior interactions. He hadn't imagined the mirth in her voice or the sparkle in her eyes when he'd suggested the mischief on the patio.
"We were," he agreed. "And I have every expectation that we'll continue to get on well. I may not know her well, but it seems our personalities are complementary. Which is not something I say of many young women," he allowed. It was not something he had said (or even thought) of any young women, to his recollection, but he couldn't admit to that; he may as well just come straight out and tell Endymion he'd go ring shopping tomorrow, at that point.
The mention of suitors distracted him entirely. It was reasonable and expected that a woman with (as he'd phrased it) experience in the marriage market would have had suitors, but this was the first reference to them he'd heard. Miss Dempsey had talked of men, but in the abstract; he had not determined from her conversation that she had received or rebuffed any offers (or even had gone very far towards one with any particular gentleman), and yet this line from her brother seemed to imply that was the case after all. He felt — defensive? Yes, that was the feeling, odd as it was. Without knowing a thing about any of these previous men (and without having taken any concrete steps to actually join their ranks with the title of suitor yet) he felt that someone, somewhere must have been comparing him with them, and Victor was anxious about being found lacking. The way Endymion had framed it may have been a contributing factor — she's not one to settle was almost a challenge. If none of the previous suitors were good enough, it seemed to say, what would make Victor any different?
He was not without qualities to recommend him, he had to remind himself. He was going to inherit someday, and even without that he had a stable income owing to his position at the hospital. His family may not have been the Pendergasts or the Prewetts but neither were they unknowns. He was intelligent, and they had gotten along in their prior interactions. He hadn't imagined the mirth in her voice or the sparkle in her eyes when he'd suggested the mischief on the patio.
"We were," he agreed. "And I have every expectation that we'll continue to get on well. I may not know her well, but it seems our personalities are complementary. Which is not something I say of many young women," he allowed. It was not something he had said (or even thought) of any young women, to his recollection, but he couldn't admit to that; he may as well just come straight out and tell Endymion he'd go ring shopping tomorrow, at that point.
Fabulous set by Lady!