She rather hoped that he wouldn’t be altogether as chivalrous as he made out, in case that only made him dull in tandem; but she was satisfied at his joke about changing his suit first that he was not too tied up in seriousness. “I’ll be sure to give you good warning, Mr. Knight,” she assured him, with a pretty smile, “though I doubt my honour is in any danger tonight.”
She was too clever, Mattie was sure, for there ever to be a stain on her reputation to need defending, and this party was hardly the place to invite trouble – and there was a small part of her that disliked the thought of anyone, gentleman or otherwise, defending her on her behalf. It was not ladylike to admit, so she wouldn’t – not aloud – but Mattie fancied herself capable enough to protect herself in any way she needed to, by word or deed or duel. She didn’t like the thought of falling back on anyone else to do it for her: she had no ambitions of ever being a true damsel in distress.
He had them poised for the dance, and Mattie’s hands found his shoulder and hand readily enough. He was on the taller side, so it was hard to meet his eyes when they were together in hold and turning – she would have a better look at his features when they separated later in the dance, for the interweaving of partners – so instead she followed his conversational lead for the moment and cast her gaze sidelong across the ballroom. “It is a fun illusion,” Mattie agreed, half-interested in the spellwork itself, and half-intrigued by a woman’s ghostly double looking eminently bewildered. “Oh, I attended a ball or two here in the season,” she said, of the Destiny Hotel (it was a generally fashionable place to be invited, as far as she knew, and she had heard talk of New Year’s Eve parties here in years past), “but I haven’t been in the mirror maze yet. What about you?” That was the only thing that was different here tonight.
She was too clever, Mattie was sure, for there ever to be a stain on her reputation to need defending, and this party was hardly the place to invite trouble – and there was a small part of her that disliked the thought of anyone, gentleman or otherwise, defending her on her behalf. It was not ladylike to admit, so she wouldn’t – not aloud – but Mattie fancied herself capable enough to protect herself in any way she needed to, by word or deed or duel. She didn’t like the thought of falling back on anyone else to do it for her: she had no ambitions of ever being a true damsel in distress.
He had them poised for the dance, and Mattie’s hands found his shoulder and hand readily enough. He was on the taller side, so it was hard to meet his eyes when they were together in hold and turning – she would have a better look at his features when they separated later in the dance, for the interweaving of partners – so instead she followed his conversational lead for the moment and cast her gaze sidelong across the ballroom. “It is a fun illusion,” Mattie agreed, half-interested in the spellwork itself, and half-intrigued by a woman’s ghostly double looking eminently bewildered. “Oh, I attended a ball or two here in the season,” she said, of the Destiny Hotel (it was a generally fashionable place to be invited, as far as she knew, and she had heard talk of New Year’s Eve parties here in years past), “but I haven’t been in the mirror maze yet. What about you?” That was the only thing that was different here tonight.
