He was tired, his head hurt, and he was sore from having gotten off a cramped ship only to go straight into a cramped carriage. All he wanted was a hot bath and a warm bed. The whole rotten trip, from the rough sea trip to the jarring carriage ride, was not the fault of the coachman, and taking his ire out on the man would accomplish nothing. It was not as though he had arranged for the carriage wheel to break. "It's quite all right. You could not have known this would happen." He sighed and turned to Kelcey, whose expression was a thundercloud, the same expression he'd worn in that brief, strange moment outside the museum. Max liked it even less the second time. "Shall we remain here and wait for the new carriage, or return to town and take a fresh carriage in the morning? I am thinking a fresh start in the morning is the better option, but if you think otherwise …"Kelcey never looked at him, never once took his eyes off the coachmen, and his stormy expression seem about to start in with lightning.
