Cordelia held back a wince at the question and considered it for a moment. He was helping her, after all, and he seemed quite nice, and what could be the harm? Her grandmother might not like it, but this was Cordelia's story, Eve Whitlock wasn't in London that night. "An accident. A carriage crash." Cordelia's gaze dropped to the ground, half in sadness from the memory and half because the steps here were more rickety than those at the top. "The same night, and the same way, my parents passed on from this life. I'm lucky to still be here, though my grandmother still hasn't gotten over their deaths." She sighed. "She loved my mother like the daughter she never had and my father was her son. She is a dear woman, but I must say, I miss them dearly."

Gareth walked slow, partly to make sure she wouldn't fall, and partly to keep her talking. He stopped when she mentioned the accident. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Miss Whitlock. That's awful."

Cordelia felt tears prick at her eyes but she hastily blinked them away. "Thank you," she murmured and kept walking down the steps, silently wondering if her grandmother would allow her to leave the house in trousers. Much more practical, they were, and she wouldn't have to hold up all that fabric of a skirt. Hmph. Not quite sure what else to say, she fell silent and as they reached the bottom of the steps, she let go of Mr. Scott's arm. "Thank you for your help," she said softly and reached to take back the notebook he'd carried for her.

Gareth stopped when they reached the feet of the cliff, and he handed her her notebook. If her status in society was closer to his own, he would have asked her for a walk or another meeting sometime, so he could hear her out further, but he knew that would be inappropriate. "I hope your writing exercises go well, Miss, and that your grandmother treats you kindly, and Whitby suits you."

Cordelia smiled at Mr. Scott. "Thank you for your help," she said, earnestly thankful. "If you ever want to pay a visit, I'd be glad for the company." Was that something Eve Whitlock would approve of? No, probably not, but Cordelia was quite lonely in Whitby, excluding her brother and grandmother. She could certainly use a friend.

Gareth wouldn't dare to do so and earn the scorn of her grandmother - well, he would probably earn it at some point, but writing the truth was another matter - but he smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Miss Whitlock. Have a pleasant day." And after tapping his bowler hat, he turned to go into a different street, rather than go up the steps again. Best not be alone with a Carrington right now.