[London era @ T.Ham] There are only so many condescending remarks from Rich Lords With Opinions On Him that McGraw can take, be they praising or otherwise. At some point he’d snapped–subtly, with a quip too scathing to be fully joking–and his gut had clenched, but he had neither apologised nor averted his eyes in submission. By the time he found himself alone with Thomas in the evening, he was all but seething. “–how do you /stand/ them?” He asked bitterly, then too late, added, “–my lord?”

Thomas had been keeping an eye on the lieutenant for more of the evening than was precisely proper – but in truth, he had been preparing for a moment exactly like this. Both he and Miranda had been in silent agreement that they would not speak up on McGraw’s behalf until he did so himself – at which point, they would be well beyond reproach for stepping in and quashing such remarks at future engagements. 

When it did happen, his heart had swelled with pride for the way McGraw held his chin up, daring anyone to challenge him for such willful commentary. It was not the greatest opening, but it was a large enough one that Thomas and his wife had room to maneuver as their guests were leaving, to subtle lay the reminder that McGraw was their guest as surely as they were, and was to be treated as such. 

Eventually, the room was mostly cleared, with only their dearest friends still in the parlor with Miranda, granting Thomas a free moment to excuse himself and address their fuming lieutenant before he gave himself an apoplexy. Securing them in his office, Thomas found himself temporarily startled by the outburst, but not so much that he could not recover swiftly. 

“I tolerate them because I must, James,” Thomas was not about to fall back on formality now of all times. He had worked too hard to wear the lieutenant down to referring to him by his given name to surrender it now on account of his idiotic companions. Society chose his counterparts as surely as he did, an unfortunate truth Thomas had learned to stomach long ago. “You, however, are in no such position.”

Stepping over to the man, Thomas unconsciously tended to the man’s nerves as Miranda would manage his own, reaching up and gently straightening his lapels in a quiet reminder that appearance was everything, and so long as we looked our part, what we did behind closed doors – who we were beyond the mask – would remain safe. 

“I will never fault you for excusing yourself, or making your own opinions known. You are as much my associate as they are – whether they like it or not,” He assured firmly, laying his palms soothingly upon the man’s chest now, and simply gazing down into his eyes in the hopes of impressing upon the lieutenant how intently he meant this. “I value your stances James – and if anyone in my parlor is making you feel like you don’t belong there, that is as much my failing as it is theirs.”