"As you say, Your—ah, Lilibet. That will take some time to become rote, I think." Her lips twitch upward in amusement. Formality had been drilled into her from an early age, and it shows. Ironic, that she should meet a descendant of her family—of hers possibly, even—and the lady is older than she is, herself. She is warm, though, in every sense of the word. Despite being drenched, and Elizabeth finds herself shifting a bit closer to offer hers.

And then, she outright laughs, softly. "If a lady can be a gallant, then I would do so." Nervetheless,s he waits until the older woman has ventured indoors before doing the same.

"There is a strange chamber abovestairs they call a "washroom" where you might change your clothing. I will find you somewhat to eat in the meantime."