Even as she spoke, a soft laugh bubbled in his chest as her breath tickled against the skin of his neck. How little time they'd really spent together in the grand scheme of things, yet how well she seemed to know him. It was so peculiar, but he didn't seek to question it. The seed of doubt was still firmly planted in the pit of his stomach, still telling him she deserved someone younger, someone who could give her her own children. But even as the thought of children as a whole struck him, he felt her pull away, and he loosened his grip on her, looking down at her as she stared up him with her blue gaze.
Her words hit him, so softly said but there was steel behind them and it braced him as much as the strongest potion would. His hand slipped from her waist to move back up to press against her cheek, his thumb caressing softly against her skin. "I am only thinking about you." He said truthfully. The Prewetts weren't at the furthest heights of Society, but they were fairly well known and in the public eye (sometimes more than he wished them to be). If even a whisper got out of his involvement with Miss Skovgaard, she would inevitably be targeted by someone, by Witch Weekly or even worse; a fate he wouldn't wish upon anyone, most of all her.
Her words hit him, so softly said but there was steel behind them and it braced him as much as the strongest potion would. His hand slipped from her waist to move back up to press against her cheek, his thumb caressing softly against her skin. "I am only thinking about you." He said truthfully. The Prewetts weren't at the furthest heights of Society, but they were fairly well known and in the public eye (sometimes more than he wished them to be). If even a whisper got out of his involvement with Miss Skovgaard, she would inevitably be targeted by someone, by Witch Weekly or even worse; a fate he wouldn't wish upon anyone, most of all her.