Alfred smiled at her comment, but worried it didn't reach his eyes. Transfiguration was fine, transfiguration was fun, but he had so much else on his mind. He rubbed his thumb over the back of his index finger and hoped as far as nervous gestures went that it would be small enough that no one would notice — at least he'd managed not to fiddle with the buttons on his cuffs, this time.

"It's definitely more fun to watch," he agreed. "But I don't think it'd be my instict if I were in a real duel." His eyes slid briefly to Roslyn at this comment, wondering if she'd take exception to it. Dueling was one of those words that could mean different things depending on context, and while he'd meant it in the self-defense vein, given the company he couldn't help but think about families challenging rakish young men to duels over their daughters' honor. The last time he'd had an actual conversation with Roslyn was when she'd pulled him into the hallway after he and Zelda had 'announced' their courtship. Evander had written later that he hoped some of the Fisks had duelled him in the streets, after being so audacious. Roslyn's conversation was perhaps the female equivalent, so of course it came to mind. He hoped (without much optimism) that she did not think he was the sort to often find himself on the receiving end of challenges to duel.

He could not imagine trying to tell Zelda about Jo Smith while Roslyn was watching, but he wasn't sure when he'd have another opportunity. With her sister's wedding planned this month, Zelda (and her chaperones) were too busy to entertain him at social events, and it wasn't as though he was going to be invited to any family affairs leading up to the wedding. He might not see her again until April, feasibly, and he didn't want to sit with this guilt for that long. Maybe he could get her away from Ros, if only for a minute?

"Do you want a drink?" he asked, hoping this was that sort of party. He desperately wanted one.