So he was loyal, too, Jemima decided, as if telling herself these things would fashion a new reality where she had been hoping to marry him all along. It would at least give her things to say to people when they asked about him, as she was sure her friends would – facts were all well and good (and probably necessary, when it came to his family’s names), but if she wanted to give the same illusion that she was fond of him, then she would have to be able to gush.
Also to that end, she was looking at the way his hair curled, pleasingly, over his forehead when he spoke again, and she flinched, off-guard, at the reminder of it. What he had said to Mrs. Dempsey was the real sticking point of him, of this situation, the one thing she simply couldn’t reconcile – so although Jemima nodded gently, in an I know, she kept quiet for a while, just looking at him, waiting to see if he would follow it with anything else.
The reason, that was all she wanted. She was sure it was something bad, if he had damned her instead – but she didn’t dare to ask outright. Family was important to him, but if he was feigning fondness for her then he hadn’t told them the truth about the Floo or where he had been, what he was doing, perhaps whom he had been with. And, Jemima thought, biting her lip, if he hadn’t told his family the truth, there was no way on earth that he would tell her now. Given his past actions, she probably ought to assume he would choose to lie again.
And what would it change, the truth, today? She was already overwhelmed enough, was trying to make it through one day without crying; he had made himself her one route out of ruin, so she still had no choice but to marry him, whatever else he had done. They had agreed to make the best of this – somehow. So she met his gaze, surrendering in a small voice: “And I’m sorry you have to marry me.”
Also to that end, she was looking at the way his hair curled, pleasingly, over his forehead when he spoke again, and she flinched, off-guard, at the reminder of it. What he had said to Mrs. Dempsey was the real sticking point of him, of this situation, the one thing she simply couldn’t reconcile – so although Jemima nodded gently, in an I know, she kept quiet for a while, just looking at him, waiting to see if he would follow it with anything else.
The reason, that was all she wanted. She was sure it was something bad, if he had damned her instead – but she didn’t dare to ask outright. Family was important to him, but if he was feigning fondness for her then he hadn’t told them the truth about the Floo or where he had been, what he was doing, perhaps whom he had been with. And, Jemima thought, biting her lip, if he hadn’t told his family the truth, there was no way on earth that he would tell her now. Given his past actions, she probably ought to assume he would choose to lie again.
And what would it change, the truth, today? She was already overwhelmed enough, was trying to make it through one day without crying; he had made himself her one route out of ruin, so she still had no choice but to marry him, whatever else he had done. They had agreed to make the best of this – somehow. So she met his gaze, surrendering in a small voice: “And I’m sorry you have to marry me.”
