Lady Wilton responded with a courteous nod, though her expression remained neutral. Her eyes quickly returned to her tea.
Once Mr. Pritchett had reseated himself, Theodosia asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today, sir?”
He gave a rueful smile and leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. “Only the pleasure of your company, Miss Theodosia. I happened to be in the area and thought I might pay my respects.”
Theodosia forced a smile to her lips as she attempted to come up with a believable lie to end this visit. “That is… thoughtful of you. But I’m afraid we cannot linger long since Lady Olivia insists upon a daily turn about the gardens with her dog before we begin preparations for supper.”
Olivia, ever quick to catch a cue, nodded with feigned earnestness. “It is quite true. I find that if my dog does not take the air at least twice a day, he becomes rather insufferable to those around him. It’s how I manage his excess energy.”
Mr. Pritchett gave a short nod, dabbing his brow again. “Iunderstand. I would not dream of imposing upon your routine.” But his eyes flicked towards Theodosia once more, his disappointment only thinly veiled.
Theodosia shifted slightly in her seat, the angle of her posture growing a fraction more formal. She had no wish to wound Mr. Pritchett’s feelings outright. He had never been unkind, only persistent—and woefully mismatched. Still, that did not obligate her to offer warmth where there was none to give.
Politeness, yes.
Encouragement, no.
And she would not make the mistake of blurring the line between the two.
