andhiswife | (Reply)

Dreadfully empty sounds about right, and a brief wince flickers across her features. She'd wanted the distraction; if hearing of his own better fortunes would have served no purpose but emphasizing how bad hers have been, she wouldn't have asked in the first place. But she supposes manners would dictate some acknowledgment of the elephant in the room.

Besides, if his own home could fill up that quickly, maybe that means she could take the Poldarks up on their absentee offer without feeling as if she's consigning herself to anything miserable in the long term. Somewhere, buried beneath the sorrow and bewilderment, she can just about hear her own mother's voice telling her that she'd be ten kinds of fool to give up a house.

But she pushes those thoughts away for the moment, focusing on Biffy, instead. The uncertain pause coaxes a small, wry smile out of her. Boyfriend would probably be the local term, and she understands why he'd be hesitant to use it (just as she can understand why the more pointed but arguably crude lover isn't really an option for him, either).

"I shall have to meet him, one of these days." Perhaps not today; she's not at her best, and her instinct is to limit her own sphere of influence until she can be a bit less overtly miserable. "And make sure he's treating you well," she adds, though that isn't really in doubt.