That one word didn't feel like a condemnation, after all she had been merely trying to protect him and perhaps he understood that. Her opinion on this firmed the moment he stepped forward again. Then he paused and she braced herself for more of that nothingness, her eyes searching his face for a hint. But again he stepped forward, his hand resting gently on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. Funny, how she could feel reassured in just one gesture. This too would pass, it told her.

She reached up to squeeze his hand, but already the warm pressure was gone and he was speaking.

It mattered quite a lot, in Caroline's opinion. But had she not known Evander she might have taken it as a horrid disregard of it all. The British, after all, were so very stingy with their emotions - why Evander hadn't even told her he loved her. She knew he did, or at least she very strongly suspected that they loved each other, but he had not yet said it. And not wanting to overreach or embarass herself she hadn't said as much either. But a baby should change that between them. Or so she thought. But now there was no baby to change it for them. Only the realization that her husband did not actually mean his words to cut her.

His gaze was on the door and she was willing to guess he too needed some time. Caroline gave him a wavering smile, "Go, get washed up. I think I'll just read some." Likely she'd just stare at the page blindly, but she felt she knew her husband's moods enough to know when she needed to sacrifice her desire to be near him in favor of time on his own.