“No. It was never really what I wanted. London is home, you know that.” She hummed a bit, no doubt tilting her head in that way she always did when really considering something, though he didn’t turn round again to see. “I think I would be happiest somewhere here in this neighborhood I’ve got to know so well. I don’t need a large house like we used to have—to be honest, I quite enjoy taking care of the place and cooking my own meals. Perhaps a bit larger than this one, eventually. If I have children.”

“When,” he corrected.

“There are no certainties. I know that very well. I’d rather given up the idea of a husband and family—there are too few of our generation left, and I certainly don’t intend to go out in search of the ones remaining.”

“But now?”

“Well. We’ll see, won’t we?”

Her smile was audible. Drake sneaked a glance at Margot to see what she thought of the conversation, but she looked intent on her potatoes now. He already knew she didn’t particularly want a husband and family. But what did she think of Dot’s wanting them?

She would look at it academically, he imagined. If it would make Dot happy, then she would consider it the thing Dot ought to pursue. If not, then not. “What about you, Margot? At which university would you most like to teach someday?”

She looked up at him, surprise in her expression. She didn’t answer, but just stared.

He lifted a brow. “Why are you so shocked by the question?”

“Because no one ever credits my goals as viable. Certainly no one ever thinks I’d have a choice in a university.” She hesitated, looked about to say something else.

His gaze moved to her eyes, tangled there in hers. She was probing, trying to discern if he really believed in her dreams or if he was only asking to placate her. To make her think he did, to win her over, before beginning a campaign for her to be content with the normal role of a wife.

He couldn’t blame her for the probing. Frankly, he wasn’t quite sure himself where he stood. He’d always imagined himself married to a woman who fit the mold his mother had set forth—to raise their family, to be there when he got home of an evening, to be the pillar of strength behind him while he went out into the world to support them.

There was nothing wrong with that image. His mother had thrived in the role, as Dot would do. But it was what they wanted. Not so for Margot.