He nodded solemnly at the thought that her father would not wait long before reinstating another arrangement to show that he understood, taking that to heart as the warning it was. “I don’t need long.” He had never liked to rush into anything - though he supposed he knew her well enough by now, and Miss Delaney seemed well convinced.

And Evander found he trusted her, implicitly and without reason. He could not say why. He supposed there were probably things they ought to discuss further - plans and preparation and practical expectations - but there was something in her smile and the rosy flush on her cheeks that prevented him. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, or lose it. Instead, he squeezed her hand gently as she spoke (still softly but somehow brighter now, more teasing), and broke into a smile, almost needing to bite his lip to stop abject relief from making the smile too wide in return.

Maybe it was not so difficult, then; this was a step of progress, this was something going right for once, and it felt terribly, unreasonably good. “And I don’t intend to let you down, Miss Delaney,” he murmured, knowing they soon ought to go back inside and rejoin the party - but not wanting, quite yet, to let go of her hand.

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