It's a good thing she doesn't grab him by the hand. Melbourne is not that tactile and would probably jump backwards, and by doing so possibly leave Sylvie embarrassed. Just her words alone make his initial amusement shift to a slight uneasiness. He isn't oblivious to the many hurdles and restrictions in women's lives but it's not something he actively thinks about, nor waits anyone to bring the issue to him.
Obviously he himself is privileged, and as a man, able to shape his own destiny no matter how much it is expected to follow in the footsteps of generations of Melbournes before him. His father had been a politician and so had his grandfather but had he wanted to choose another path, he could have. What he knows of women's choices (at least for upper class women) is that they are raised up to marry and have children. Many of them are accomplished in various tasks (in music or art, for example) but those things are secondary to being someone's wife and mother.
He doesn't look down on the nonconformists who choose to be independent, to live alone, or with lovers, and to dress in unconventional ways - and, to be honest, he considers the current women's fashion style with bob haircuts and short flapper dresses as revolutionary. But even though he's sympathetic to women who don't live according to the norm, he also knows how much trouble that can bring.
So when Sylvie mentions her brother and his wishes, it's not hard to understand where those thoughts are coming from: she doesn't want to follow the path laid out for her.
None of that is Melbourne's concern, really, but seeing her distress makes him willing to at least listen, even if he can't do anything else. It's odd that she would come to him about it but sometimes an outsider's point of view helps the best. Sometimes it is easiest to talk to a person who is not part of the equation. Even Emily, whom Melbourne thinks might be a better confidant in general, is someone Sylvie is relying for an upkeep.
"Would you like to sit down, miss? I could bring you a glass of... cherry? Or something else." He gestures towards a side table where his brother Frederick and Lord Cowper had just a moment ago played cards. That could be the needed cover so that no one else in the room interrupts immediately.
He pulls out the chair for her but doesn't sit down yet himself, waiting to know whether she wants a drink or not, but also because he hesitates about a certain question. He's not supposed to ask for her age but it's still relevant. "Perhaps you'll soon find yourself old enough to make up your own mind?"
[ooc: I should mention that since Queen Victoria is such a big part of who Melbourne is (in his canon), I have to keep her for our thread, too. I can't write her off, so although George V was the king during Sylvie's canon, in 1927-1929, the monarch here is Victoria, in her mid-twenties.]
no subject
Obviously he himself is privileged, and as a man, able to shape his own destiny no matter how much it is expected to follow in the footsteps of generations of Melbournes before him. His father had been a politician and so had his grandfather but had he wanted to choose another path, he could have. What he knows of women's choices (at least for upper class women) is that they are raised up to marry and have children. Many of them are accomplished in various tasks (in music or art, for example) but those things are secondary to being someone's wife and mother.
He doesn't look down on the nonconformists who choose to be independent, to live alone, or with lovers, and to dress in unconventional ways - and, to be honest, he considers the current women's fashion style with bob haircuts and short flapper dresses as revolutionary. But even though he's sympathetic to women who don't live according to the norm, he also knows how much trouble that can bring.
So when Sylvie mentions her brother and his wishes, it's not hard to understand where those thoughts are coming from: she doesn't want to follow the path laid out for her.
None of that is Melbourne's concern, really, but seeing her distress makes him willing to at least listen, even if he can't do anything else. It's odd that she would come to him about it but sometimes an outsider's point of view helps the best. Sometimes it is easiest to talk to a person who is not part of the equation. Even Emily, whom Melbourne thinks might be a better confidant in general, is someone Sylvie is relying for an upkeep.
"Would you like to sit down, miss? I could bring you a glass of... cherry? Or something else." He gestures towards a side table where his brother Frederick and Lord Cowper had just a moment ago played cards. That could be the needed cover so that no one else in the room interrupts immediately.
He pulls out the chair for her but doesn't sit down yet himself, waiting to know whether she wants a drink or not, but also because he hesitates about a certain question. He's not supposed to ask for her age but it's still relevant. "Perhaps you'll soon find yourself old enough to make up your own mind?"
[ooc: I should mention that since Queen Victoria is such a big part of who Melbourne is (in his canon), I have to keep her for our thread, too. I can't write her off, so although George V was the king during Sylvie's canon, in 1927-1929, the monarch here is Victoria, in her mid-twenties.]