Of course Claire didn’t mind a rented carriage or doing without servants; she’d done so on a number of occasions when going about her very [i]private[/i] business. He wouldn’t know, of course, so she nodded with a few words of reassurance. The fact that he even asked made her wonder what he saw when he looked at her, and brought her back to their argument during lunch. 

Claire had done lied and kept her thoughts hidden a lot that day, and frankly it was getting exhausting. But telling Nick she would be honest with him only to turn around and see her contact? The young woman stared at him for much longer than was appropriate, blinking in surprise. “Professor?” she said quietly, more of a question than a greeting as she curtsied. “How did you two meet?” Surely Nicholas didn’t know him in the same way she did.

“Yes, Professor White,” he said, still smiling broadly. “Oh, work of course,” the professor answered simply, keeping his eyes on hers. “I once gave an educational talk on my findings here, and I met your husband at the after event. I have to say, I think he slipped in just for the drinks at the end,” he joked with a hearty laugh, putting a hand on Nicholas’ shoulder. “What can I do for the newlyweds, hm?”

And so the evening went on with a tour. Thankfully Nicholas and the “professor”, if that’s who he really was, found conversation easy enough that Claire could happily stay silent except for minor comments on the building. This must be his real identity, which was why he’d never give his name…he was actually someone, important. It made her wish she could have used a fake identity, but since he had been the one to contact her…that just wasn’t an option.

The couple were left alone eventually to wait for nightfall. Claire was clearly uncomfortable around Professor White, barely making eye contact as he left. She would get in trouble for it later, she was sure, but the girl just couldn’t help it. What Nicholas has said about always having a choice…it had left its mark, and the thought of telling her contact it was over, now with him standing right there, was a daunting one. She would never be able to go through with it.

By the time the stars were out Claire herself was tired, which meant she knew her injured husband had to be exhausted. “Nick, I’ve never seen such a beautiful view,” she whispered, “but I believe we should get home. Your father will be worried and you should have been in bed hours ago. I’m getting anxious just sitting here with you.” The vast sky above them was a sight to behold, something she wished they could see before sleep every night. It would make relaxing in the evening much easier.

“It makes you feel…small, doesn’t it?” Still she spoke quietly, as if regular volume would disturb the stars above or the emptiness around them. “Do you think we could have someone paint our bedroom ceiling [i]just[/i] like this?” Claire giggled, putting her head on his shoulder. "It's a shame we don't see so many stars in London. Why do you think that is?"