stepmother's thoughts. No doubt she was considering the rumors that Lord Greville was a rake and weighing them against the man presently sitting in her salon.
"Oh, let them go," Lady Havard said chidingly. "Lord Greville will take care of her."
It appeared that Reginald's acting had convinced Lydia that there was nothing to fear, for even Lady Havard's chiding encouragement wouldn't have worked otherwise. But Clarissa could see her nodding slowly in permission.
"Very well," she said aloud. "But do not forget your mask, and do be careful and do not..."
Excited at the prospect of seeing Lord Mowbray again, Clarissa accepted and donned the mask Lydia shoved at her. Her stepmother's warnings and cautions flew over her head. They were all along the lines of not to touch anything, or to walk without Lord Greville's hand to guide her and so on; and Clarissa had heard these orders often enough that she knew them by heart. She simply nodded dutifully over and over as
her stepmother and Lady Havard saw them to the door; then she was hurrying to the open phaeton parked on the street before the house and being lifted onto the bench seat by Greville .
"Well, thank God that is over!"
Clarissa heard the disgusted mutter as Lord Greville took up the reins of his carriage and set out. The sudden deeper and much more masculine tone of his voice acted as a catalyst, releasing the amusement she'd been holding in. Clarissa burst out laughing, an open, gentle mirth that rolled naturally from her lips and made her cheeks flush with color. When she heard his muttered "damn," however, her laughter faded.
"I am sorry, my lord," Clarissa murmured at once, stifling her laughter. "You must think me terribly ungrateful, and I do not mean to be. Tis simply that I can imagine my stepmother's consternation as she tried to follow your conversation and could not. She does hate to appear ignorant."
"That is usually the way of stupid people," Reginald informed her.
Clarissa wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly and frowned in confusion. "My lord?"
Sighing, Greville seemed to relax, though it appeared to take some effort. "I notice you do not mind asking the meaning behind my words."
Clarissa shrugged slightly. "There seems little reason to pretend to any knowledge I lack."
"Aye. Well, my lady, that is a sign of intelligence," he assured her.
Clarissa blinked in surprise. "I do not understand your meaning."
"Intelligent people have no need to pretend to
ledge they do not have. Only the stupid feel they must feign knowledge about everything and anything. fear appearing as stupid as they are."
"And intelligent people do not fear appearing stupid?" Clarissa said curiously, wishing to know his feel-
p on the subject.
"Intelligent people know they are intelligent. They also know that one person cannot know all, hence a person is not stupid simply because he is ignorant of I me thing or another. They know that, to another intelligent person, they will not appear stupid in asking for an explanation of what they do not know, and so their ignorance on any particular issue does not become an embarrassment."
"Dizzying logic," Clarissa murmured with amusement.
"But you followed it," Greville countered. "Which tells me something."
"And what is that, my lord?"
"That I am an idiot," he answered promptly. "And my cousin is not."
Clarissa blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I said I am an idiot," Greville repeated cheerfully.
"My lord!" Clarissa protested at once, and felt his hand pat hers reassuringly.
"I am. At least when it comes to judging people. I misjudged you terribly."
"You did?" Clarissa marveled.
"Oh, yes. I fear I placed you in the same category as the other silly, vain, and simpleminded girls coming out this season. In fact, I warned my cousin against you."
"Did you?" Clarissa thought he nodded, and she heaved a small sigh. "Well, perhaps you were right to, my lord. After all, I come with a scandal."
She suspected Greville was smiling. He said,
"Oh, let them go," Lady Havard said chidingly. "Lord Greville will take care of her."
It appeared that Reginald's acting had convinced Lydia that there was nothing to fear, for even Lady Havard's chiding encouragement wouldn't have worked otherwise. But Clarissa could see her nodding slowly in permission.
"Very well," she said aloud. "But do not forget your mask, and do be careful and do not..."
Excited at the prospect of seeing Lord Mowbray again, Clarissa accepted and donned the mask Lydia shoved at her. Her stepmother's warnings and cautions flew over her head. They were all along the lines of not to touch anything, or to walk without Lord Greville's hand to guide her and so on; and Clarissa had heard these orders often enough that she knew them by heart. She simply nodded dutifully over and over as
her stepmother and Lady Havard saw them to the door; then she was hurrying to the open phaeton parked on the street before the house and being lifted onto the bench seat by Greville .
"Well, thank God that is over!"
Clarissa heard the disgusted mutter as Lord Greville took up the reins of his carriage and set out. The sudden deeper and much more masculine tone of his voice acted as a catalyst, releasing the amusement she'd been holding in. Clarissa burst out laughing, an open, gentle mirth that rolled naturally from her lips and made her cheeks flush with color. When she heard his muttered "damn," however, her laughter faded.
"I am sorry, my lord," Clarissa murmured at once, stifling her laughter. "You must think me terribly ungrateful, and I do not mean to be. Tis simply that I can imagine my stepmother's consternation as she tried to follow your conversation and could not. She does hate to appear ignorant."
"That is usually the way of stupid people," Reginald informed her.
Clarissa wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly and frowned in confusion. "My lord?"
Sighing, Greville seemed to relax, though it appeared to take some effort. "I notice you do not mind asking the meaning behind my words."
Clarissa shrugged slightly. "There seems little reason to pretend to any knowledge I lack."
"Aye. Well, my lady, that is a sign of intelligence," he assured her.
Clarissa blinked in surprise. "I do not understand your meaning."
"Intelligent people have no need to pretend to
ledge they do not have. Only the stupid feel they must feign knowledge about everything and anything. fear appearing as stupid as they are."
"And intelligent people do not fear appearing stupid?" Clarissa said curiously, wishing to know his feel-
p on the subject.
"Intelligent people know they are intelligent. They also know that one person cannot know all, hence a person is not stupid simply because he is ignorant of I me thing or another. They know that, to another intelligent person, they will not appear stupid in asking for an explanation of what they do not know, and so their ignorance on any particular issue does not become an embarrassment."
"Dizzying logic," Clarissa murmured with amusement.
"But you followed it," Greville countered. "Which tells me something."
"And what is that, my lord?"
"That I am an idiot," he answered promptly. "And my cousin is not."
Clarissa blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I said I am an idiot," Greville repeated cheerfully.
"My lord!" Clarissa protested at once, and felt his hand pat hers reassuringly.
"I am. At least when it comes to judging people. I misjudged you terribly."
"You did?" Clarissa marveled.
"Oh, yes. I fear I placed you in the same category as the other silly, vain, and simpleminded girls coming out this season. In fact, I warned my cousin against you."
"Did you?" Clarissa thought he nodded, and she heaved a small sigh. "Well, perhaps you were right to, my lord. After all, I come with a scandal."
She suspected Greville was smiling. He said,
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