He only had four sisters, but as the only one who had married was now widowed by her ghost-husband and, besides that, that they were all varying degrees of odd, he had to imagine Lowri Dempsey had long since resigned herself to seeing them all live in the Galway estate forever. If she had time to consider it, while her other sons (not Endymion; Endymion was an angel) were waltzing around being like that.
“No, I’m – quite a hopeless case, as it turns out,” Endymion said lightly, cheerfully – although the smile might have dipped from his eyes a little, because he was a little disappointed by it. Thistle might have grown into the space she had been given – freedom and independence – but Endymion just felt rather lonely.
A failure, he might have said more truthfully, if Thistle Potts had not also been as yet unmarried; he was not trying to insult her in the same breath.
“No, I’m – quite a hopeless case, as it turns out,” Endymion said lightly, cheerfully – although the smile might have dipped from his eyes a little, because he was a little disappointed by it. Thistle might have grown into the space she had been given – freedom and independence – but Endymion just felt rather lonely.
A failure, he might have said more truthfully, if Thistle Potts had not also been as yet unmarried; he was not trying to insult her in the same breath.
