It was such a little thing in his new time, the offering of a hand, and yet something far more intimate than an arm. People were more wont to hold hands casually in the future, but it was something Byron remained accutely aware of. One did not hold a lady's hand for an inappropriate length of time. Flesh pressed against flesh in any fashion was frowned upon outside of bedroom doors.

He smiled a little as he stood, avoiding the general awkwardness of moving to his feet somehow, or perhaps just not noticing, then took her hand.