"Miss Denham." The day would soon be at hand when Sidney would be required to address her as Lady Babington, and he still didn't know how the title sat on his tongue. Certainly no one could be more surprised than Babington himself when Esther had finally consented to his proposal, although Crowe and Sidney had outwardly exceeded this astonishment (Babington, with an unvarying sideways smile, behaved as if this had been the expected outcome all along). Sidney had left most of the commentary on the development to Mr. Crowe, choosing instead to wish his friend every felicity, and then recede thoughtfully inside a self-generated cloud of smoke.
"As you say," he obliged her. As far as acquaintances went, they seemed endlessly able to overlook one another's incivility in a concerted effort to expedite pleasantries. And that was an effort exerted in the spirit of collaboration, it must be acknowledged. "And yourself? How are you keeping?"
He had only barely checked himself from asking after her brother. In the past, it had been rare to see her out walking without him—now, Sidney supposed it was the rule. He did feel some mute curiosity as to the ultimate fate of Sir Edward Denham, but wisely declined to raise the matter.
Still, something told him they had not seen the last of that particular member of the Denham clan.