I hoped some of the attention was for my own worth. For the beauty that I was often complimented on, that I sometimes believed. For my grace and impeccable manners that had been drummed into me, that had been secured by the inheritance of my father's quiet grace. And most of all for my intelligence.
It came as a surprise. I filled the role of coquette as well as a fish could fly. The loud false laughing that was fodder for a man's ego, the fluttering of my lashes as I caught the eye of a handsome young man across the room. No, I was not superlative at such comportment.
But I was learned, I was educated and informed, and if a man spoke to me of more weighty matters, I did not fade into the background but plunged in, head first. I did, much to my mother's annoyance, and some of the men as
