"It's the world I was born and bred to. It's a required survival skill in a class-based society." She was seated on the edge of her bed, pulling on a pair of white cotton socks that looked stunningly inappropriate. I'd taken the seat by the dressing table, and we were alone for the time being, the others waiting in the sitting room for the second round of breakfast -- this for Her Ladyship and Natalie -- to arrive. "Neither you nor Robert want me to fret over something I cannot control. I suppose I could be offended or outraged or otherwise angry, and I am, a bit." "You're concealing it well." "Another trait I had to learn early." She finished tugging up her socks, then grabbed a foot in each hand and pulled them in against her thighs, rocking slightly on the mattress. "Is this man dangerous?" "Possibly." She pursed her lips and blew out a breath. Then she shrugged. "Very well." "That's the most understated response I've ever heard from a principal." "You don't know very much about the peerage, do you?" "Not really." "The women I grew up with, went to school with, the ones who are my age, they think I'm pitiful.
