Deep down, Peter knew it was more than that. The woman blamed him. Blamed him for the heart attack. For his father's last, stressful, days. In some way, Peter blamed himself to. Enough not to send his mother to an isolated estate to leave him in peace. Or for him to leave English society and move to India. But that was also due to Adrestia's plan. There were things Peter did share, but this was not one of them. He didn't like to think about it. Perhaps when this was over, he'd run off for America, or China. Somewhere that Britain could care less about.

Adrestia's show of sympathy was comforting. More so than if someone else had made these moves of comfort. Because he knew this was the best she could manage. Knew her well enough that he wasn't offended by the distance. Concerned, yes. But never offended. Perhaps if she yelled at him, but that was something else entirely. He flashed a grateful smile in response.

"She tries not to be too cold, though it's obvious she's trying when we're at home. I hate how it affects Casey." Casey, at least, didn't blame Peter. Though the girl always seemed like a poor little deer in front of a carriage when she was in a room with Peter and mother. He assumed that she never married because she was scared to leave the two alone together.