Red. Blonde. There was really only brown, black and white that left when it came to color of hair that Lord Talbot clearly favored. Even so, Irene wasn’t sure how to respond; disparaging the woman’s appearance went not only against what she was comfortable with, but what she was schooled to do: find beauty wherever she could. Even the ugliest things had some beauty to them, and it was her job to bring it out as an artist (or something romantic sounding like that, though for the past few months Irene wasn’t sure how much of a romantic she was anymore). With a sigh, she prepared to answer back in defense of the redheaded woman, but she didn’t get very far because he questioned her further. Of course, that was where she had inevitably slipped up.
‘Seems’.
Again, she could see the thoughts whirling through his mind, despite the majority of his face being covered. The aristocratic tilt of his head as he peered down at her with amusement was familiar all the same. And she pressed her lips together again at his question, her hand gripping his as she fought to keep herself focused. But dancing and thinking quite literally on her toes, was not easy to do. She swallowed, eyes averting to the seams of his lapels as she contemplated her answer. ‘Is your husband terribly jealous then?’
No, Colin had never been a jealous man, and nor was Elias. But neither of those men had wanted her; so how could she ever claim to have a husband when the wounds still ran fresh and Lord Talbot was pouring saltwater into them? “I’ve never been married.” She responded quietly. The pain of the combined memories seeped into her conscious with no small amount of force. “I likely never will be.” It hadn’t occurred to her until then that this was a choice she needed to actively make if she was going to ever avoid this dark feeling ever again.
She wasn't playing along now, not like she usually would. The conversation had been steered in the exact direction she had feared, and she was ready to be done with it, and him.
‘Seems’.
Again, she could see the thoughts whirling through his mind, despite the majority of his face being covered. The aristocratic tilt of his head as he peered down at her with amusement was familiar all the same. And she pressed her lips together again at his question, her hand gripping his as she fought to keep herself focused. But dancing and thinking quite literally on her toes, was not easy to do. She swallowed, eyes averting to the seams of his lapels as she contemplated her answer. ‘Is your husband terribly jealous then?’
No, Colin had never been a jealous man, and nor was Elias. But neither of those men had wanted her; so how could she ever claim to have a husband when the wounds still ran fresh and Lord Talbot was pouring saltwater into them? “I’ve never been married.” She responded quietly. The pain of the combined memories seeped into her conscious with no small amount of force. “I likely never will be.” It hadn’t occurred to her until then that this was a choice she needed to actively make if she was going to ever avoid this dark feeling ever again.
She wasn't playing along now, not like she usually would. The conversation had been steered in the exact direction she had feared, and she was ready to be done with it, and him.
![[Image: 9EDhNw4.png]](https://i.imgur.com/9EDhNw4.png)