Edward did indeed catch it, and even if he hadn't he found her word suggestive enough considering the way they had already spoken to each other over the telephone. Almost despite himself, there was a slight quirk of his eyebrows that accompanied his teasing smirk. "Mmm. But you think trouble is my second name," he reminded her, his voice silky smooth just for the moment.
And then the tone was gone again with his next breath, so quickly that it was entirely possible to miss it, or doubt it had been intentional, as it was. "I don't know about kind. I didn't do it to be kind, at least, rather I didn't think he was worth going to prison over, or carrying the guilt of having killed a man forever, even if it would have been a crime of passion," he admitted, a little sense in his head after all, even when he was clearly a man who impulsively followed his heart far more often than his head.
He tilted his head slightly as he considered her question. "At times. I think it has been near extinguished on occasion, but it always returns eventually," he explained. Something... or someone... always came along to drag him back out of his brooding and into the real world again. "I'm afraid I had spent the last... oh, six months or so... in a sort of dreary desolation, doing nearly nothing, expecting nothing, unable to distinguish night from day or one day from another..." he admitted, but his tone was low and steady and there was very little in the way of sadness left in it. It felt like talking in observations, about another poor soul, not himself, not now. "But, no matter!" he smiled, a genuine smile as he looked upon her. Looked upon her and saw the woman beside him. "I'll have another thunderstorm to ride in yet."