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‘But Miss Linton, your aunt said-’

He didn’t get another word out. In a flash, I had dragged him onto the dance floor and held him in a firm grip. He suddenly didn’t look as if he wanted to escape anymore.

‘So… how do you dance this?’ I demanded.

His eyes widened. ‘You don’t know?’

‘Of course not!’

‘Then… blast! What are we going to do?’

‘We’ll just have to improvise.’

‘And pray to God we don’t crash into any of the other couples! Blimey… all right. Take your skirt in one hand and pull it up.’

‘I get to pull my skirt up?’ Grinning like a loon, I obeyed. ‘Good God, my aunt will be furious!’

‘Not that far! You don’t want to show your unmentionables[4] to the entire ballroom!’

‘How do you know I don’t?’

‘Well, maybe you do, but you shouldn’t! Let your skirt down again, or I’ll have to make you!’

I bowed my head in my best pseudo-ladylike submission. ‘Like that?’

‘Yes. Admirable.’

 

; ‘Now, I’ll put my arm around your waist, and take your hand with the other…’

‘Seems like any other dance to me. What are the steps?’

‘There are no steps. We don’t step, we jump.’

The grin on my face widened. ‘Now that’s not like any other dance. How high?’

‘As high as you want.’ Seeing the gleam in my eyes, he added, hurriedly: ‘Be gentle with me! I don’t want to break a leg.’

‘Can I start? Can I start? Please, please?’

‘Wait for the music, will you? There we go. One, two, three, four… one, two, three, four… Now!’

The next few minutes passed in an ecstasy of stomping feet and flying skirts. I hardly felt my aching feet or my too-tight corset. Not once did I stamp on Captain Carter’s feet. True, he was a man, but a sort of special case. There was no real reason to break his toes - not while I was having so much fun.

After the first galop, the musicians wanted to start on a quadrille again - but they were interrupted by the storm of mixed protest and applause from their audience.

‘Bravo!’ A girl from the crowd shouted. ‘Da capo!’

‘Don’t you dare play that stupid, sluggish muck!’ I shouted. ‘Or I’ll come over there and ram your flute down your throat!’

Perhaps not so complimentary or diplomatic, but certainly effective. The musicians struck up another galop, and after that, another. Only when my feet would no longer support me did I allow Captain Carter to escort me to a chair in the corner. For the first time in my life, I didn’t mind a man holding my arm to support me. He didn’t seem to mind my having to support him right back, either. We were both a bit unsteady.

‘My aunt was right!’ I sank down into a chair, panting. ‘This isn’t dancing! It’s wild jumping about!’

For a moment, Captain Carter looked concerned.

A broad grin spread over my face. ‘Very wild jumping about. I must say, I rather enjoyed it.’

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