He had supposed he might have made himself a fool in his letters, in setting himself too forward or too plainly - but she had responded with such ease! Still, Evander had tempered his hopes this evening, seeing her in easy company with so many of the party, and he had wasted far too much of it in saying ‘after this glass’, ‘or the next’, and even after dinner finding little added courage.
But he had asked now, and when she said no he would have to look as though he had been going to walk anyway so as not to seem even more a fool! Why, walking was hardly the most sensible means of getting back to Irvingly; nor would walking her towards her lodgings have made any progress for him in that measure. If he didn’t have that excuse of a detour, well, then he would wander about for a time and call it much needed fresh air. (Not that the city’s air was ever especially fresh.) The cold would, no doubt, at least do him the favour of clearing his head.
It was with a brief burst of surprise then, that Evander heard her acquiescence. “Oh - oh! Well, very good,” he said, although it felt nearer to excellent. But he did not want to get carried away, and start sounding needlessly bombastic. He had seen her smile prior in the evening, of course - she had been quite graceful in everyone’s company - but this one had the effect of quirking up a corner of his own mouth (and got carried away with itself into a broader smile the moment he had turned instead to the door).
He gestured that she might proceed, and followed her outside, immediately thankful for the cool air in his face. It was not terribly late - balls and other parties finished hours later - but in the centre of London one would not have known anyway, for the streetlamps and the light from windows in conversation with one another gave the streets a persistent, eternal glow.
Now that he was walking beside her, however, Evander realised ‘companionable silence’ was not exactly likely to be the activity she was expecting, and so the pressure of finding something useful to say settled upon him. He went for a ordinary, if uninspired, compliment on the dinner, one which she returned, but then left the conversation at a dead end again. Merlin, and they’d barely made it ten paces!
“And how is your brother finding his marriage?” Evander inquired, falling back on the same excuse he had used to write a letter to her at all. Marriage did not in itself feel like a safe topic, even when it was securely someone else’s; but Evander was curious by some measure about her brother, when she had said in her letter that I suspect you would have a great many things to discuss together. What might she mean by that?!
But he had asked now, and when she said no he would have to look as though he had been going to walk anyway so as not to seem even more a fool! Why, walking was hardly the most sensible means of getting back to Irvingly; nor would walking her towards her lodgings have made any progress for him in that measure. If he didn’t have that excuse of a detour, well, then he would wander about for a time and call it much needed fresh air. (Not that the city’s air was ever especially fresh.) The cold would, no doubt, at least do him the favour of clearing his head.
It was with a brief burst of surprise then, that Evander heard her acquiescence. “Oh - oh! Well, very good,” he said, although it felt nearer to excellent. But he did not want to get carried away, and start sounding needlessly bombastic. He had seen her smile prior in the evening, of course - she had been quite graceful in everyone’s company - but this one had the effect of quirking up a corner of his own mouth (and got carried away with itself into a broader smile the moment he had turned instead to the door).
He gestured that she might proceed, and followed her outside, immediately thankful for the cool air in his face. It was not terribly late - balls and other parties finished hours later - but in the centre of London one would not have known anyway, for the streetlamps and the light from windows in conversation with one another gave the streets a persistent, eternal glow.
Now that he was walking beside her, however, Evander realised ‘companionable silence’ was not exactly likely to be the activity she was expecting, and so the pressure of finding something useful to say settled upon him. He went for a ordinary, if uninspired, compliment on the dinner, one which she returned, but then left the conversation at a dead end again. Merlin, and they’d barely made it ten paces!
“And how is your brother finding his marriage?” Evander inquired, falling back on the same excuse he had used to write a letter to her at all. Marriage did not in itself feel like a safe topic, even when it was securely someone else’s; but Evander was curious by some measure about her brother, when she had said in her letter that I suspect you would have a great many things to discuss together. What might she mean by that?!
