Ah, he’d gone and done it, hadn’t he? Tybalt regretted bringing up Witch Weekly immediately. It had only been a joke, but - well, sometimes these things hit a little too close to home.
Mostly, he was disappointed that she withdrew her arms from around her neck, and the next thing, was pressing her hands to her head in either frustration or defeat, he wasn’t sure. He stepped back too to let her pace, the mention of her mother having seen the article sending him sitting on the edge of his bed, reading her expression and shrugging slightly to say go ahead, I don’t mind, really. Because he half wanted to hear this, in spite of the fact that he already knew he was going to hate hearing this. (‘Why on earth hadn’t she married handsome Mr. Adlard?’ ) He even hated knowing Mr. Adlard’s identity; and he rather suspected Elsie had purposefully been being kind to him in being evasive about that back when she’d explained the offer of courtship.
Unlike that time she’d been here telling him the bad news, however, Tybalt - maybe only because the thrill of the party hadn’t quite worn off him yet, or maybe because he didn’t want to dishearten her further - didn’t let his smile fade entirely. “I’m sorry,” he said, screwing up his face in sympathy. He wished there was an easy joke to make about this - not that he was giving up. If he was patient, maybe one would present himself. Or, you know, a little hope would. Hope would be great too. “She knows all about you turning down the courtship, then?”
Mostly, he was disappointed that she withdrew her arms from around her neck, and the next thing, was pressing her hands to her head in either frustration or defeat, he wasn’t sure. He stepped back too to let her pace, the mention of her mother having seen the article sending him sitting on the edge of his bed, reading her expression and shrugging slightly to say go ahead, I don’t mind, really. Because he half wanted to hear this, in spite of the fact that he already knew he was going to hate hearing this. (‘Why on earth hadn’t she married handsome Mr. Adlard?’ ) He even hated knowing Mr. Adlard’s identity; and he rather suspected Elsie had purposefully been being kind to him in being evasive about that back when she’d explained the offer of courtship.
Unlike that time she’d been here telling him the bad news, however, Tybalt - maybe only because the thrill of the party hadn’t quite worn off him yet, or maybe because he didn’t want to dishearten her further - didn’t let his smile fade entirely. “I’m sorry,” he said, screwing up his face in sympathy. He wished there was an easy joke to make about this - not that he was giving up. If he was patient, maybe one would present himself. Or, you know, a little hope would. Hope would be great too. “She knows all about you turning down the courtship, then?”
