“Not so many as to be entirely bored of it yet,” Mattie countered idly to his first comment. Whether Mr. Knight took this as a remark on her youth, this only being her first, fresh-faced season, the novelty having no time to wear off generally, or took it as a compliment to his company that he had imbued as ordinary an activity as dancing with any interest at all, Mattie didn’t care; she scarcely knew which she had intended. He might take it however he liked.
But by the sounds of it he had been in society long enough (as all men had been, by the time they felt obliged to start actually looking) to begin to be discerning about things. And perhaps, Mattie thought wryly, her delightful company alone was not quite enough to merit tonight a diverting event.
So when he posed a challenge, she felt all but compelled to take him up on it. “Certainly we can try it,” Mattie agreed smoothly. “Your terms don’t scare me –” (what was another dance? No skin off her back) “and nor does your warning, for that matter. You’re not the only Ravenclaw in this ballroom.” She arched her eyebrows meaningfully. (In truth probably about a quarter of the ballroom were Ravenclaws, but of course she meant herself.) “But,” she added, continuing the dance with a pretty flourish to her footwork although her mind was mostly on the maze already, sketching out some tactic for it, “what will happen if I beat you?” She challenged, cheerful.
But by the sounds of it he had been in society long enough (as all men had been, by the time they felt obliged to start actually looking) to begin to be discerning about things. And perhaps, Mattie thought wryly, her delightful company alone was not quite enough to merit tonight a diverting event.
So when he posed a challenge, she felt all but compelled to take him up on it. “Certainly we can try it,” Mattie agreed smoothly. “Your terms don’t scare me –” (what was another dance? No skin off her back) “and nor does your warning, for that matter. You’re not the only Ravenclaw in this ballroom.” She arched her eyebrows meaningfully. (In truth probably about a quarter of the ballroom were Ravenclaws, but of course she meant herself.) “But,” she added, continuing the dance with a pretty flourish to her footwork although her mind was mostly on the maze already, sketching out some tactic for it, “what will happen if I beat you?” She challenged, cheerful.
