Anthony appraised his cousin with trepidation. He was sure this conversation was not going to go well as soon as Atticus looked about to ensure Ms. Torie had in fact left them. Ugh. He tugged his waistcoat down a little bit, as if to indicate he really had better places to be, but he stayed, silent, and listened anyway. What choice did he have? The awkwardness that crept into Atticus’ tone surprised Anthony. He’d been expecting the statement or… some variation upon it. But it was no grand secret that Basil was not interested in courting seriously. Even as far as Ms. Torie was concerned, for whatever reasons he had, it would seem Basil wasn’t interested in the most perfect thing under his nose. (Not that Anthony could find it in himself to place blame since it worked out in his own favor tremendously.) But being the one to tell Atticus that? Well… it was not an enviable job.
Clearing his throat a little awkwardly - because yes, now it was weird - Anthony rubbed that back of his head. “Yes, well, on that topic: I have it on the lady’s good authority that they are just friends,” whatever that means. “I would never dream of encroaching upon a vested interest of yours or Basil’s,” Here Anthony’s gaze darted to the side. “You know that,” he mumbled miserably. He couldn’t help the flash of regret as he imagined the face of a young, cheerful Hanna— The pang of guilt and pain and nausea that followed was enough to screw his face up before Anthony could help it. He ran a hand through his hair hoping to shove those sentiments aside.
“Anyway, I quite like her,” he continued, tone growing a touch more firm. “And I have every intention of getting to know Ms. Torie better if she allows.”