Theodore's hands and feet had gone very cold with fear, but he remained where he stood. He wanted to close his eyes to collect himself, but that would have been worse, to not be able to see where Rosier was and what he was going to do.
He had counted on being interrogated about his intentions about the servant, because he wasn't supposed to be helping anyone that was so beneath him. But because he had not intentionally broken Rosier's trust, he was unprepared for how much it hurt to be looked at like that. How could he possibly explain the truth in a way that he would be believed.
"The truth is, sir, that my father did terrible things to those servants and their families," he said, voice trembling. "And I've never entirely been able to see them as less than human, not when they're injured. So when a servant told me that one of their own had been taken away... that they didn't know whether he was alive or dead... she convinced me to check on him, and help him a little bit, if I could."
He swallowed. "It could have been anyone's servant, I would have done the same thing. It was wrong, I know that, and I will never let a servant play on my sympathies again. But I never intended to make it a violation of your privacy and personal space, sir, I swear it."