She had picked the one question where the answer wasn't any more damning than the initial admission had been. He was still feeling raw and exposed from the confession, but at least he could be grateful for that. He shook his head. "That was the last time." Even if he'd wanted to continue — as much as he had ever wanted to do it at all — it would have been impossible. Their invitations to the kinds of big, society-wide parties he had used as cover had dried up following the scandal of the coat room, and when they'd started to trickle back in it was unthinkable for him to slip away during the middle of one. No one had cared where he was before, but now his absence would certainly have been noticed and remarked upon, and if people began to realize he had a habit of disappearing at parties then it wouldn't be long before one of the burglary victims accused him. And being almost-caught in the coatroom had made the risks of it so much more immediate: he didn't think he would have been able to manage it again even if he'd had the opportunity, after having had the moment of facing down the Minister's wife and the very real possibility of ending up in jail. So those activities had been firmly put to bed even before they'd married — but there was another element to it, since their wedding, and he thought maybe she ought to hear that too.
"I said before, about how this whole thing was supposed to be temporary," he said. "And I never really cared about — what was left, if we took care of the girls." Just a continuous balancing act; if they could keep things in the air long enough to make the welfare of his sisters someone else's responsibility then it could all come crashing down. So many of the choices he'd made over the past five years were obviously unsustainable. The thievery was one, but there was also the (in hindsight drastically ill-advised) choice to spend on the first few seasons as though they still had money. His mother had said keeping up appearances would be worth it in the long run, and that it would help the girls marry sooner, but they couldn't keep that up and in retrospect he knew he ought to have been budgeting for a marathon rather than a sprint. With a joyless laugh, he added, "I used to fantasize about faking my death, after they were all married." The debts would die with him, if he didn't have children to pass them on to and no one still depending on him for financial support when he went. He'd even floated the idea to Tycho: would you flee the country with me someday? But it had always been a fantasy. He'd never actually had the mental bandwidth to think beyond the present moment in any real sense, so there had never been plans for the future.
He rubbed the heel of his hand against one eye, shaking his head slightly. "I don't think that way anymore. I'm going to fix this." For you, he almost added, but he stopped himself and caught his tongue against the back of his teeth. It was true; he had never had the resolution to sit down and chart a course through this mess, to find a way through the other side, until he had been faced with the prospect of having someone who was meant to depend on him forever, someone whom it would always be his duty to care for and protect. But he had not forgotten the way this conversation had started and what she had seen last night, so he didn't know whether he had earned the right to say ostensibly sentimental things, even if they were true.
"I said before, about how this whole thing was supposed to be temporary," he said. "And I never really cared about — what was left, if we took care of the girls." Just a continuous balancing act; if they could keep things in the air long enough to make the welfare of his sisters someone else's responsibility then it could all come crashing down. So many of the choices he'd made over the past five years were obviously unsustainable. The thievery was one, but there was also the (in hindsight drastically ill-advised) choice to spend on the first few seasons as though they still had money. His mother had said keeping up appearances would be worth it in the long run, and that it would help the girls marry sooner, but they couldn't keep that up and in retrospect he knew he ought to have been budgeting for a marathon rather than a sprint. With a joyless laugh, he added, "I used to fantasize about faking my death, after they were all married." The debts would die with him, if he didn't have children to pass them on to and no one still depending on him for financial support when he went. He'd even floated the idea to Tycho: would you flee the country with me someday? But it had always been a fantasy. He'd never actually had the mental bandwidth to think beyond the present moment in any real sense, so there had never been plans for the future.
He rubbed the heel of his hand against one eye, shaking his head slightly. "I don't think that way anymore. I'm going to fix this." For you, he almost added, but he stopped himself and caught his tongue against the back of his teeth. It was true; he had never had the resolution to sit down and chart a course through this mess, to find a way through the other side, until he had been faced with the prospect of having someone who was meant to depend on him forever, someone whom it would always be his duty to care for and protect. But he had not forgotten the way this conversation had started and what she had seen last night, so he didn't know whether he had earned the right to say ostensibly sentimental things, even if they were true.
Set by Lady!