“You are more sentimental than I imagined,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, amused.
“And you are more observant than I would have expected.”
He smiled.
“Then I am pleased to see that I have exceeded your expectations.”
“You have,” she said. “Thouhh I find it interesting that you let people see what you think they will find of interest.”
“I enjoy choosing what is seen,” he said. “That is why I do not tend to read poetry. It is too real, too raw, but I admire you for liking that.”
“Is that approval?”
“It is indeed,” he said. “May I know a line you favor?”
She hesitated, then leaned in to match his posture. He wondered just what she could say that warranted such secrecy.
“You will think it foolish.”
“I will not,” he said.
“You say that easily,” she said. “You are not the one about to be so revealing.”
He kept his gaze steady on her.
“No, I am the one listening.”
She spoke the line quietly. To his surprise, it was one of romance. It was the very last thing he would have expected from someone so practical. When she finished, he let the silence sit between them.
“That is not foolish,” he said. “That is a rather beautiful line.”
She let out a small breath, and he wondered if his approval truly meant that much.
“I find it strange that you dislike poetry. You always choose your words so carefully, after all.”
“I do,” he said.
She smiled.
“Then you may choose one to describe me.”
“You?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “If you are so observant, and if you choose your words so carefully.”
He considered her, the set of her shoulders, the way she held her cup, the steadiness of her gaze even with the window full of eyes behind him. He thought of her family's situation, and how she was willing to do anything in her power to remedy it.
“Resilient,” he said. “You are resilient.”
Her expression shifted, something warm passing through it. He wondered if she was simply pleased that he had not simply called her pretty or talented or some other easy word that could have described many other ladies. She lowered her gaze to her tea, then looked back up.
“You chose this place so they would see us lean close, did you not?”
“Yes,” he said. “They will think I am whispering something romantic.”
“And are you?” she asked.
