He couldn’t help but laugh quietly at her, reaching forward to grab his own teacup and taking a sip; he’d never been a fan of tea but it was something he had sucked up years ago. “Sounds dreadfully terrible. I’m afraid I would fall asleep if I had to be trapped in such conversations with young ladies.” Atticus grinned over his own teacup at her before he settled it back onto the table, his fingers still wrapped around the cup. He probably had; he was terribly picky and it drove Mrs. Foxwood up the wall.

“I’m sure my mother will send you a survey after this meeting, so have no worries of what I might prefer.” It took everything in him not to roll his eyes. She had sent the lonely hearts letter without his knowledge so who knows what else she hid from him. “She might even track you down so you can explain your responses so she’s better able to assist me.” He had no idea what her afternoon teas actually consisted of; Atticus should go to them more often.

Turning his attention back to her, Atticus tilted his head slightly as he observed her. “And what would be your preference for me to tell all the gentlemen? You put me to sleep or your conversation never lagged?”

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