A stiff upper lip, emotional reserve were the prerogatives of this side of the Atlantic, Evander well knew. It was not that Caroline Delaney was not expressive, because she was: in that light, airy, easy way that spoke to natural confidence and charm, something in the way she had been raised. But there was usually something still composed about her, a kind of imperviousness that left her untroubled by wasps and thunderstorms at picnics or boggarts or fireworks or situations of personal danger or glowering step-nieces or even particularly hopeless partners in conversation (by which he meant him); so the wavering look on her face now was a sign enough of just how bad the shipwreck had been.
“I don’t know what I’d have done if I had lost you,” he admitted, loud enough for only her to hear, and the rue in his shaking head and his helpless smile illustrated that well enough, how lost he would be without her now. More than he had known, maybe. He was not sure he would have been able to get over it - and he really ought not to say these things, but she was so exhausted perhaps the feeling in it would safely pass her by.
In any case, he cleared his throat and spoke next in a more usual tone. “Well, it’s probably best you catch your breath a little before you apparate anywhere,” he advised, and this was mostly excuse to loiter a little longer with her, rather than giving her up to her brothers immediately. (He might have accompanied them home, but he was of the opinion that family ought to come first in these things, and as yet, he was not quite hers.) “Here, at least sit down,” he said, dropping onto the low stone wall beside her; and perching on walls outdoors like a couple of vagrants was a far less dignified activity than befitted either of them, but after all she had gone through and how relieved he was to have her here at all, he supposed he could bear it just this once.
“I don’t know what I’d have done if I had lost you,” he admitted, loud enough for only her to hear, and the rue in his shaking head and his helpless smile illustrated that well enough, how lost he would be without her now. More than he had known, maybe. He was not sure he would have been able to get over it - and he really ought not to say these things, but she was so exhausted perhaps the feeling in it would safely pass her by.
In any case, he cleared his throat and spoke next in a more usual tone. “Well, it’s probably best you catch your breath a little before you apparate anywhere,” he advised, and this was mostly excuse to loiter a little longer with her, rather than giving her up to her brothers immediately. (He might have accompanied them home, but he was of the opinion that family ought to come first in these things, and as yet, he was not quite hers.) “Here, at least sit down,” he said, dropping onto the low stone wall beside her; and perching on walls outdoors like a couple of vagrants was a far less dignified activity than befitted either of them, but after all she had gone through and how relieved he was to have her here at all, he supposed he could bear it just this once.
