Under normal circumstances, the witch might have replied that the driver would see nothing from her. Though some aspects of her life—particularly her occupation—were not the norm, Desdemona had always tried to lead her life in a polite and moral fashion. She was largely unremarkable, behaviour-wise.

But this—pressed up against Arthur Pettigrew in a small sleigh, breath mingling with every whispered word, the heat of him a constant reminder that they were practically sitting on top of one another—was not normal circumstances, and the chaser could not be sure that it was anything other than a general awkwardness on her part stopping her from doing something altogether impolite.

“I should hope not something too disgraceful!” she offered, still quiet. “Surely people must remember that they are in public.”

Yes. Public. That’s where she was.

The fact that the ‘public’ was now her primary concern over their friendship and his role as captain was not lost on her, and worried Dezzie immensely.