Lucius barely cast a glance at the other occupants, and it took only a moment before it seemed their audience found other things to watch. He touched his wand in his pocket with his free hand and whispered, "Muffliato" before he began. He returned the squeeze and then brought her hand to his mouth, to kiss the back of it. He held it there, the back touching his cheek and after what seemed a long moment, began again.
"I don't like this. You know my heart, dearest. I am sure that the injured party is not gone but will return. But I don't want to risk you, Draco, hell even your precious sister's neck in the process. And I had no inkling that such a thing would occur today, none. I have been so out of touch," he added, lowering her hand to the table, "Perhaps they have been meeting, hell even planning. Perhaps there is news," and he frowned and took up his cup to sip at it as he thought.
"What about your sister? Have you spoken to her, seen her of late? Besides today of course," he added, "If anyone has a hint of something, it would be her."
He frowned more, thinking and then realized he was becoming utterly distracted by his thoughts, leaving his wife alone. He had dragged her into this tea shop; the very least thing he could do was be a bit more open.
"Narcissa, does it bother you? My interest in this?"