The look she gave him made Ford think twice about the wisdom of greeting her, but luckily for him it quickly softened. He didn't quite believe that it was just because she was surprised, but he certainly wasn't going to press for a more honest explanation. Tonight was not about honesty; tonight was about appearances. If she was willing to pretend they were having an enjoyable conversation, that was enough for him. He just needed the tally mark down in the right bucket to balance out the evening, to sell whatever story he'd decided he wanted to sell.
"Miss Chang," he repeated, with a smile that was a little too willing to pretend the one she'd offered him wasn't small and uncertain. The fact that she was one of Clementine's peers almost gave him pause on continuing, because Clem still seemed half a child to him, for all that they were technically adults now. It occurred to him distantly that if he had been the sort who would have married this was about the right age gap to be considered standard; Clem's school friends were more or less his prime market for a socially acceptable wife. He felt vaguely nauseous at this idea, though whether it had more to do with the connection to his sister or how young they seemed or just the idea of marriage at all, he couldn't have said. It wasn't as though it would ever be a real consideration, anyway — whatever Noble thought about him, Ford was never going to have had enough money to marry. That had always been the case, so it couldn't come back to damn him in light of what Noble knew now.
"Are you here supporting Miss Bonaccord also, or do you have some other connection to the Institute?" he asked politely. He wished he had a drink.
"Miss Chang," he repeated, with a smile that was a little too willing to pretend the one she'd offered him wasn't small and uncertain. The fact that she was one of Clementine's peers almost gave him pause on continuing, because Clem still seemed half a child to him, for all that they were technically adults now. It occurred to him distantly that if he had been the sort who would have married this was about the right age gap to be considered standard; Clem's school friends were more or less his prime market for a socially acceptable wife. He felt vaguely nauseous at this idea, though whether it had more to do with the connection to his sister or how young they seemed or just the idea of marriage at all, he couldn't have said. It wasn't as though it would ever be a real consideration, anyway — whatever Noble thought about him, Ford was never going to have had enough money to marry. That had always been the case, so it couldn't come back to damn him in light of what Noble knew now.
"Are you here supporting Miss Bonaccord also, or do you have some other connection to the Institute?" he asked politely. He wished he had a drink.
Set by Lady!