Horrorstruck as the gnome went beneath Miss Warbeck's skirts, Mason didn't really know what to do here. As she pulled her arm back to hoist her skirts, Mason pulled his back with an evident blush on his cheeks. He had never been so forward with a lady before in his entire life and here he was in a garden unsupervised worrying about her skirts and how to remove a gnome from them.

"Ah?" He hesitated, moving his hand to scratch at the back of his head absentmindedly, thoroughly unsure of where to go from here. "How would you like to go about this?" Because there was no way Mason was about to go fishing around in layers of petticoats with out permission or even at all if he could avoid it. Surely there had to be a better way? Gnomes in gardens he could handle, in his sleep probably, but gnomes in skirts was an entirely different debacle Mason was decidedly not prepared for.