The one upside of it all was that Caroline was either trying her best to make things as simple and smooth as could be by being in an unmatched good humour; or she was just so naturally so that it made her effortlessly imperturbable and wondrously easy to please.
Perhaps he would attribute that to her American sensibilities. Evander was - obviously - still fretting over the details regardless. “Ah,” he said, almost sheepishly, with a mild grimace at the fact that she had needed to tease him at all. To recover this - she might seem well-contented, but he did not want to have to lie awake over it afterwards in regret - he retrained his gaze on her, resolving not to look away again.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her sister-in-law strolling some ways away, but he was trying not to pay attention to her supervision... or lack thereof. Caroline, on the other hand, certainly didn’t seem to feel any guilt about their relative privacy, since she had even brought it up directly. He broke into a smile, half-pleased and half-startled at her candour - perhaps because she always seemed so comfortable amongst those crowds of people, quite as much as she did here. Whereas... if he had thought he was out of his element interacting with her at social events, he had not conceived of the pressure of being the object of her full attention without anything to condition it. The freedom was almost alarming. What was he supposed to do with it?
“Then I daresay the wasps are a small price to pay for the luxury,” Evander remarked, his mouth quirking upwards in a slight laugh and perfect sincerity (although if he had noticed the spot of cream at the corner of it, he would have been utterly mortified). Still, he ducked his gaze sooner than he had meant to unscrew the jam-pot and spoon out a layer of it into another glass to set apart from the picnic, quite resolved to exile or drown the wasps anyway. A good pretence to not think, for at least another interlude, on how he ought to make the most of the luxury of a few moments alone. “I suppose you are very rarely alone at all, in your life,” he added lightly, inquiringly. Brothers, chaperones, friends at parties; this must make something of a change. Irvingly itself was a great deal quieter than anywhere she had probably known.
Perhaps he would attribute that to her American sensibilities. Evander was - obviously - still fretting over the details regardless. “Ah,” he said, almost sheepishly, with a mild grimace at the fact that she had needed to tease him at all. To recover this - she might seem well-contented, but he did not want to have to lie awake over it afterwards in regret - he retrained his gaze on her, resolving not to look away again.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her sister-in-law strolling some ways away, but he was trying not to pay attention to her supervision... or lack thereof. Caroline, on the other hand, certainly didn’t seem to feel any guilt about their relative privacy, since she had even brought it up directly. He broke into a smile, half-pleased and half-startled at her candour - perhaps because she always seemed so comfortable amongst those crowds of people, quite as much as she did here. Whereas... if he had thought he was out of his element interacting with her at social events, he had not conceived of the pressure of being the object of her full attention without anything to condition it. The freedom was almost alarming. What was he supposed to do with it?
“Then I daresay the wasps are a small price to pay for the luxury,” Evander remarked, his mouth quirking upwards in a slight laugh and perfect sincerity (although if he had noticed the spot of cream at the corner of it, he would have been utterly mortified). Still, he ducked his gaze sooner than he had meant to unscrew the jam-pot and spoon out a layer of it into another glass to set apart from the picnic, quite resolved to exile or drown the wasps anyway. A good pretence to not think, for at least another interlude, on how he ought to make the most of the luxury of a few moments alone. “I suppose you are very rarely alone at all, in your life,” he added lightly, inquiringly. Brothers, chaperones, friends at parties; this must make something of a change. Irvingly itself was a great deal quieter than anywhere she had probably known.
