What charm did not win him, the influence tended to. It was a tragic thing, but plenty of fathers had hoped he took an interest in their girls. That wasn’t something he could imagine, but he was more possessive even than most, since the birth of his daughter had come along with the loss of his wife. She was not just all he had left—he was all he had left of her.
“Ah, well, it has always been a great fear of mine. Leaving you disappointed.” That dry sense of humor had developed early and only gotten worse over time. His delivery of those taunts was always so mild that it almost seemed sincere, but for the mirth in his eyes. It was an easy thing to miss.
“And here I always told myself I was the one leaving you breathless.” He managed to sound mournful, leading the way as he did. It was less formal than was typical from him, her hand being settled in the natural warmth of his rather than simply settled on his arm. There was that temptation to rush, but it wouldn’t do for him to be quite that childish in such a public place. Leading her about would cause talk enough, but at this juncture he was content enough with that. A pleasant rumor or two distracting from the reality of war would be welcome.