This was outrageous. She wished she could punch him in his stupid smug face. "No, ser. I'll go home, and will prepare from there," she tried to explain as calmly as she could. She wasn't calm.

This was almost as nice as making love to her brother. (It wasn’t.)

“Show me your engagement ring.”

God knew it was the closest he would ever get to one.

"There isn't one, ser," she didn't mean for her voice to sound so hollow. "Its an unnecessary expense," she quickly tried to explain. But she felt like she was shrinking.

There was the slightest quirk of disappointment at the corners of his mouth … but then they turned up, hard.

“They are a signifier of commitment, Miss Ward,” he explained with a ‘sympathetic’ smile. “His bakery sells the bread, does it not?”

Rose could feel the cold sweat break out. She tried to breathe calmly, but she felt like she didn't get enough air. "Aye ser?" she answered, uncertain of where he was going. She really wanted to leave.

This was honey on the apple slice. Zechariah even showed her the grace of putting his feet on the ground like a gentleman, clasping his gloved hands together on the desk.

“But you do have the agreement in writing, do you not? Surely he could invest something disposable, at the very least, in a young, unwed woman.”

Her eyes burned once again as tears welled up. "'e's earnest, ser. 'e's seen me father about it and got 'is permission and 'e loves me."

Like Henry had loved her.

She had no choice but to sniff to keep her nose from running.

He knew just how to dip his head, shake it in silent disbelief as he bit his lip to keep further discouraging words from spilling forth. Then, as though to change the subject:

“How is your sister?”

The other Ward woman who had fallen for a rake.

Rose pressed her lips together in hurt and anger. A tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly brought her arm up and wiped it away. "She's fine, ser," she lied.

Whoever her sister had married had caused a stir, coming to Whitby. He was neither a Longbottom, nor even the child’s age.

“Send Mrs. Longbottom my regards,” he said, fondly.

So fondly. That one had gotten to live with the shame.