Abigail Widdowson. Of all the people Norrell could have run into, it had to be her!
He draws himself up to the full extent of his 5ft 8 height (not the greatest height for a gentleman, alas) and inflates himself like an animal attempting to appear intimidating.
"Miss Widdowson," he says, channelling as much distaste and irritation into her name as he can. Norrell twitches uncomfortably, not wanting to speak to her but not wanting her to be there either. There, and near the Night Council! What if she plots against him with them? What if she is here to undo things? "You are here on business?" he prompts, although it is a foolish question perhaps. Who would visit the Night Council simply for pleasure?
(Other than, perhaps, Norrell -- who takes pleasure in his business.)
no subject
He draws himself up to the full extent of his 5ft 8 height (not the greatest height for a gentleman, alas) and inflates himself like an animal attempting to appear intimidating.
"Miss Widdowson," he says, channelling as much distaste and irritation into her name as he can. Norrell twitches uncomfortably, not wanting to speak to her but not wanting her to be there either. There, and near the Night Council! What if she plots against him with them? What if she is here to undo things? "You are here on business?" he prompts, although it is a foolish question perhaps. Who would visit the Night Council simply for pleasure?
(Other than, perhaps, Norrell -- who takes pleasure in his business.)