For a moment it seemed like everything would be alright. But then Mr. Nott's fork clanged as it hit the table shattering the calm. Lucille cringed at the sudden noise, but as the man spoke color surged to her pale cheeks. She, who had not felt the true weight of consequences during her isolation, felt them now. But she was tired of the rules that had put them in this situation, tired if hasty judgements, tired of the lack of compassion their society had. Anger at the assumption flared. How would she face society if she could not even handle her ne brother in law. She had to handle them, for her child's sake.

As calmly (and bravely) as Lucille could manage she looked at the man, feeling tears well in her eyes against her wishes. "You do us a grave injustice, Mr. Nott." She tried to keep her voice low, even, channeling every ounce of her mother she could, but even then she felt the wave of emotion. "Is love alone not enough of a motivation for marriage?" She posed as if it were merely a supper topic.