He tensed as she raised her hands, but let out a long sigh when she didn't assault him like he expected her to, deflating in her hold with a pathetic furrow of his brow. He knew how important this was, and he was glad she was so committed, but he couldn't tell anymore which one of them was overthinking this. "They'll find something to disapprove of no matter what you do," he waved, encouraging her to put the rings back in. "You're very short." It was supposed to be an example, but it came out more like a disconnected statement with Sitwell staring down at her at this distance, until he could accept that he did not have an exit strategy for that awkward moment and had to simply physically step away, looking to the mirror to adjust his bowtie. "At least none of my sisters are coming, they're more comfortable asking questions and..." he continued, gesturing to finish that thought, being invasive.
There was a knock at the front door, followed by a gruff voice announcing, "Inbound. Fifteen minutes. Party of three."