“Good news, then,” Evander echoed, trying to picture the topsy-turvy scene marriage might make of a life, and being half unsettled by the thought. It was something to be overcome, he told himself, just a door to be opened. At some point. Perhaps not yet. There was no sense in getting ahead of himself.
He had little more to say on the matter without prying further - he certainly had nothing pleasant to say of Boston, little that he knew of it besides its unfortunate geographical location on the wrong side of the Atlantic - but he felt as though lapsing into silence again would be a sure way to sink this acquaintance like a lead weight, and sinking this acquaintance was the last thing he wanted -
If he had thought writing to her difficult - he had overthought the matter, undoubtedly - that was nothing to having to compose a conversation with the proper tempo and a pleasant flow. But before he could work himself into really worrying, she had asked him something. About himself.
Or, his family, rather. “I had a sister,” Evander said quietly - not meaning to be guarded when it came to a question that could hardly be classed as impertinent, but finding the words sticking in his throat all the same - “though she died some years ago.” He glanced sidelong at Miss Delaney, steadily enough, to assure her she needn’t apologise for it, and added, in a lighter tone, “And I have a brother, too.” A wry look crossed his face now, wondering how long she had been in the country, and whether it was long enough to have heard anything of his brother’s endeavours. “J. Alfred. You might know the name,” - he said it with a rueful air, rather than one of particular pride, suspecting this was something she might understand, “- an explorer; a sailor. He was thought to be dead, too, but... well, he wasn’t, in the end.” He offered her a helpless shrug to say I know how odd it sounds.
He had little more to say on the matter without prying further - he certainly had nothing pleasant to say of Boston, little that he knew of it besides its unfortunate geographical location on the wrong side of the Atlantic - but he felt as though lapsing into silence again would be a sure way to sink this acquaintance like a lead weight, and sinking this acquaintance was the last thing he wanted -
If he had thought writing to her difficult - he had overthought the matter, undoubtedly - that was nothing to having to compose a conversation with the proper tempo and a pleasant flow. But before he could work himself into really worrying, she had asked him something. About himself.
Or, his family, rather. “I had a sister,” Evander said quietly - not meaning to be guarded when it came to a question that could hardly be classed as impertinent, but finding the words sticking in his throat all the same - “though she died some years ago.” He glanced sidelong at Miss Delaney, steadily enough, to assure her she needn’t apologise for it, and added, in a lighter tone, “And I have a brother, too.” A wry look crossed his face now, wondering how long she had been in the country, and whether it was long enough to have heard anything of his brother’s endeavours. “J. Alfred. You might know the name,” - he said it with a rueful air, rather than one of particular pride, suspecting this was something she might understand, “- an explorer; a sailor. He was thought to be dead, too, but... well, he wasn’t, in the end.” He offered her a helpless shrug to say I know how odd it sounds.
