Her reaction solidified his assumption that she had not been the one to send these, so whoever Miss Lola Sterling was, had sent them on her behalf. For what purpose, Nigel still wasn't sure, but clearly Enid hadn't wanted him to see them. The problem was, he couldn't unsee them now and they had this hanging between them. Their friendship hung in the balance and Nigel had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

He was well aware that he admired her determination, her loyalty and her kindness; could clearly see that she was beautiful inside and out, but he had never thought of her as anything more than a friend. That she harbored romantic feelings for him left him a little blindsided. They had been friendly for so long that he assumed that was all it was, and would ever be. Could they be more? He didn't know. There were some realistic barriers; age, class, his family. How was he supposed to know how to navigate this?

"Enid, I—" he stepped closer, hating to see her distressed, but unsure of how to fix it. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, to put things to rights, but it wasn't obvious how; he couldn't research the answer here. There was also the underlying spark of what if? Now that he knew how she felt, could he too feel the same way? He'd never thought about it, but it didn't seem impossible or even improbable. He looked at her helplessly, afraid to say the wrong thing.