Primrose tilted her head slightly, not fully convinced. After all, Edmund always defended her, no matter what.
Maybe he was just saying that again to make her feel better.
"What if … the dress was too tight?" she asked, almost whispering.
The line between Edmund's brows deepened, he looked almost angry, not at her, but at the idea that she could think like this.
"Primrose," he said her name again, more firmly this time. "My wife, you were wearing a thick coat yesterday. How could that possibly look tight?"
[She even looked like she was buried inside that fur coat,] Edmund thought to himself, frustrated.
[No … is she blaming herself for what happened?]
"Primrose, my wife, look at me." He gently held her shoulders and gave them a soft squeeze, enough to guide her gaze back to his.
"Your dress was fine. You didn't say anything wrong. You didn't do anything wrong. And you never deserved the way he treated you."
