Grace was very quick to decide she was not afraid of this man—well, perhaps afraid was not the right word. She was not intimidated by him, not worried about him thinking less of her. She did not think he would find her silly and tell all his friends how silly she was, leading her to having no dances at the next ball (because those were real worries that occupied her thoughts, and she would be silly not to consider them in her evaluation of gentlemen). It helped that he had a nice smile, too, and his expression looked like hers felt. She dropped her gaze, the corners of her lips curling sheepishly.

"Very unfortunate," she agreed, her hands coming to clasp together at the front of her skirt. "—on both accounts. But you're not a hypocrite are you, sir?" She looked back up at him again and held back a giggle. She was teasing him. Or trying to. She wasn't sure how successful she was being.

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