Stroke of Genius by Emily Bryan

cousin the—” She clamped her lips tight for a moment. “Lord Washburn can find his own way to our table.”
    She grasped his arm and began threading her way through the crowd.
    “Our table,” Crispin repeated with amusement. “I’m delighted you’ve come round to my way of things.”
    “I’m only inviting you to supper because you’d invite yourself if I didn’t,” she said over her shoulder as she squeezed between two knots of revelers. “Then I will consider my obligation to thank you for your assistance this night fulfilled.”
    “You know, I’ve never been to Boston.” He pulled her up short. “Do men there appreciate being dragged about by their women?”
    “I thought you wanted to sup with us.”
    “I do, but I also want to render assistance to one in desperate need of it,” he said. “I know you’re an American, but if you don’t wish to be thought hopelessly bumptious, you might want to take your cue from the ladies around you.”
    Grace frowned. “So now I can’t even walk across a courtyard in a manner that pleases you?”
    He smiled down at her. “Unless I’m mistaken, pleasingme is not your goal. You walk enthusiastically, and personally I like enthusiasm in my women.”
    “I’m not at all enthusiastic about your likes or dislikes.”
    “Good. If there’s anything Polite Society disdains, it’s enthusiasm. One must seem not to be enjoying oneself in the slightest if one wants to be considered sophisticated.” He tucked her hand neatly in the crook of his arm. “Now, let your fingers rest gently without grasping at my sleeve as if you hoped to dislocate my shoulder.”
    “I did no such thing.”
    “Perhaps not consciously. I will allow that I can be trying at times and you didn’t truly mean to yank me along like a recalcitrant poodle.”
    She laughed and eyed the dark curls that brushed his shoulder. “If you were a poodle, you’d be in serious need of a trim.”
    “Yes, well. See to it you don’t do it again.” He patted her hand at his elbow as if that might keep it in the proper place. “Now if you would be seen for a lady of fashion, you must wait and allow a gentleman to part the crowd for you.”
    “I see,” she said with a wicked glint in her eyes. “But where ever shall we find a gentleman?”
    Crispin grimaced. She was getting too good at this game for his comfort. “That is a bit of a problem, but perhaps I can serve in that capacity for the length of this short lesson.”
    He threw the tip of his walking stick ahead of him with each jaunty stride and, as usual, the crowds parted. Some moved aside because they recognized him and admired his talent.
    Some moved because the stick wasn’t just a fashionable accessory.
    “And here we are, Grace,” he said, stopping a few yards from the supper box. “I’ve delivered you safe and sound to the bosom of your family.”
    “So you have.” She turned and laid a hand on his forearm. “I do wish to thank you, in all seriousness. Heaven only knows what might have happened to me on the Dark Walk without your assistance.”
    “I doubt they teach that sort of thing in heaven, but I, however, have a pretty good idea.” He brought her knuckles to his lips and gave them a soft kiss.
    She pulled her hand away and gave his chest a swat. “Must you make light of everything?”
    “Indeed I must,” he said. “I’ve seen the dark side of life, Grace. I want no part of it for you.”
    She studied his face for a moment and he realized he’d said more than he ought. It wasn’t like him to let his guard down so.
    Then she cocked her head. “Very well, let us banish the dark for the next few hours. Come. I’ll introduce you to my father and Cousin Mary.”
    “And don’t forget your cousin the baron,” he said as he followed her toward the Makepeace box. “Mustn’t deny the riffraff the fun of mingling with the high-in-the-instep crowd.”

Chapter Nine
    From whence does genius come? Is it a fluke of nature or a