"I've said nothing of the kind. Of course you're capable of defending yourself; but these are dangerous men. And women," he added in a grudging concession to Bellatrix who, whatever else she was, was certainly dangerous. "I don't know what sort of husband I would be if I allowed you to run up against the lot of them. I know very well there's no ideal alternative, but there is a difference between dragging you into a melee and leaving you at home, with ample opportunity to run, should you need to."
It was tiring talking about these things, even though he didn't truly feel them - it was impossible to feel anything but a general, hovering dread. Lucius knew it wouldn't likely matter who won this argument. If things went poorly, they would both be swallowed up regardless. He'd never felt so trapped in his life. Perhaps it was the desire to end this exercise in futility that led him to start giving orders, which he knew could lead only to a bitter and unresolved ending. "In any case, I forbid you to go," he said, sitting on the bed and trying to imbue his words with as much finality as he could muster. "I don't see what else we have to discuss."