Page 47 of The Cornish Mermaid

“Anythin’ you likes, Miss Ysella,” Jacko said, rheumy old eyes twinkling at her.

“Thank you.” Ysella turned back to Morvoren. “There are several dances you’re going to need to know for the ball. Mostly, we dance country dances in a long line, ladies on one side and gentlemen on the other, with lots of skipping up and down and twirling and some changing of partners, which is all great fun. They take a long time for everyone to go through, and if you and your partner stand well down the line, you’ll be able to watch how everyone else dances the steps before it gets to your turn. So, I don’t think we need to go through those just now. Maybe tomorrow or the next day.”

She beamed at Kit. “I think we’ll try ‘Sir Roger de Coverley’ first and put some chairs out to be the other couples. When Morvoren has seen what she has to do, you should dance with her and I’ll dance with Sam.” She turned her attention to Old Jacko. “Can you play ‘Sir Roger’ for us first, Jacko?”

Old Jacko touched his forelock with the hand that was holding the bow. “I can that all right, Miss Ysella.” He struck up the tune with gusto.

Kit’s foot began to tap. He’d always liked dancing.

Chapter Twenty

Morvoren

Sir Roger de Coverley, which Morvoren had at least heard of, seemed very complicated indeed. She watched Ysella and Sam, the latter a little red-faced and self-conscious, as they skipped about pretending the chairs were three other couples. They had to do a lot of crossing over the center and swinging one another around, and Sam became more and more rosy cheeked as they went.

“And now they all skip around behind us,” Ysella called breathlessly. “But you’ll have to imagine that, because the chairs can’t do it.”

At last, she came to a halt and released Sam’s hand. He took a diffident step back and hung his head. Not hard to see why. Here was a young man deeply smitten by Ysella’s many youthful charms. A young man who, thanks to his station in life, would not be considered suitable to pay court to her. And he knew it.

“Now you two try, doing exactly as we did,” Ysella instructed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Can you play more slowly do you think, Jacko? So Miss Morvoren doesn’t need to dance as quickly as Sam and I did?”

Old Jacko touched his forelock again, his expression saying he could do anything if it were Miss Ysella asking.

So, Kit and Morvoren tried. Or rather, he danced and Morvoren tried. He was very elegant, which was just as well, as Morvoren had the horrible feeling she was anything but. How complicated it was remembering which way to go, which hand to put out, and to skip jauntily at the same time. She kept going wrong, despite Ysella’s called instructions. It was worse than riding a dressage test.

Ysella clapped her hands and Old Jacko stopped his playing. “Perhaps you should just walk through the steps first, Kitto, for Morvoren to learn them. Both you and the music are going too fast and confusing her, I fear.”

Too right. Morvoren bit her lip. “It’s no good,” she said on a sigh. “I’m never going to learn this in time for the ball. The steps are far too complicated. I’ll have to be a wallflower.” Not to mention the terrifying prospect at the back of her mind that she might have to dance these fancy steps with strangers.

Ysella shook her head in determination. “You don’t need to worry about going wrong—lots of people make mistakes and nobody ever notices. And the more you practice, the better you’ll get at it. I promise. Try again. Come on, Kit.”

Under Ysella’s garbled instruction, Morvoren walked through the movements slowly, with Kit but no music, repeating the steps until she had in her head what she needed to do. Every time his hand touched hers, though, that same flush of excitement shot through her. If only they were alone, and dancing the sort of dance where he could take her in his arms… Heat rose up her neck and cheeks at the thought of him doing that, and she had to concentrate hard on her steps to avoid tripping up.

A quick glance up at Kit’s face told her that he, too, was blushing. Could he be experiencing the same feelings she was? If only. No. She was only here in his world temporarily. She’d surely be going back to her own time at some point and she couldn’t allow herself to become involved with someone from 1811. No matter how handsome he was. And besides which, she wasn’t even sure he liked her. The color in his cheeks could be due to exasperation at the length of time she was taking to learn these simple steps.

Old Jacko began to play again. Off they danced. As they came together, he smiled down at her in what could only be encouragement. “There. That’s better now you’re more familiar with the steps.” A lock of his hair had fallen over his forehead making him even more devastatingly handsome than ever. How she’d like to reach up and brush it back for him.

She tripped over her feet.

No. She had to stop thinking about him like that. Concentrate. The more she did this, the easier it would become. Unfortunately, as the music sped up, she began to get lost, got in a panic and forgot which hand to take and which way she was supposed to go. She stopped, and Kit halted as well. “Don’t keep thinking about it so much,” he said, no doubt in an attempt to be helpful. “Just dance.”

Morvoren forced a smile. “Easier said than done.”

But Ysella seemed satisfied. “Now we’ll all dance together,” she declared, removing one pair of chairs. “We’ll be the couples at either end and, this time, we have to be careful not to bump into each other as we twirl in the center. We need to take it in turns but stay as close together as possible. Off we go.”

She must have been a born optimist.

Having two couples dancing at the same time turned out to be a nightmare. Ysella had made it sound so easy, but it was not. If only they could have danced more slowly, but Old Jacko seemed to have it in for Morvoren, and the tempo of the fiddle music was fast and bouncy as he kept up with the other three dancers. They had to skip through their steps at some speed, which meant, as Morvoren kept forgetting which way she was supposed to be going and what to do next, they kept on bumping into one another. And the more they did that, the more Ysella giggled, which made it even harder to concentrate.

“It’s no good,” Morvoren managed as they stopped for a rest, all of them breathing hard from the exertion. “I’m never going to get this right.”

Ysella was fanning her pink face with her hand. “Of course you will. This is only the first day, don’t forget. By the end of the week, you’ll have every dance to perfection.” She glanced at Kit and Sam who were taking off their jackets over by the window, which they’d opened. “And Kit is such a good dancer that he can disguise any mistakes you make.” She frowned. “Although he’ll only be able to dance with you once, of course. It’s not done to dance with someone twice. Important to remember that.”

What? Morvoren had been counting on the few dances she was able to do being with Kit. And now it seemed she could only dance one with him and would have to be partnered in any others by strangers. In that case, she’d just have her one dance with Kit and sit the others out.

“Do you never dance the waltz?” Morvoren asked. She’d gone to dance club at university for a term and it had been the only dance she’d mastered.

Ysella’s eyes widened in shock. “Of course not. That would be too vulgar for words. We’re not allowed to dance the waltz.” Her eyes took on a naughty twinkle. “Although I can’t deny it would be quite something to dance in a gentleman’s arms.” She sighed. “But terribly forward.” She lowered her voice. “I have heard it said that ladies of ill repute will consent to dance the waltz with gentlemen.”