Just because I sometimes like to say "Eat your hearts out, you damnyankees!", here's what I'm looking at right now while I'm sitting on my back porch, laptop in my lap.
And the current temperature is 77F
Do you have permission to waltz?
"Would you care to dance as well?” Light-footed Captain St. Armand was standing behind Daphne, smiling down at her, but before she could answer Alexander said, “Mrs. Murray was about to favor me with a dance, Captain St. Armand.” “I was?” “Indeed you were,” Alexander said, helping Daphne to her feet. She cocked her head to the side, listening to the music. “That music is in waltz time, Dr. Murray. Do you know the waltz? It is my favorite!” “Then it will be my favorite also.” Daphne looked up at him as he took her into his arms, a quizzical grin on her face. “What a charming thing to say, Dr. Murray! I vow, you are becoming quite the gallant.” Alexander said nothing to this, concentrating on the music. Yes, he'd waltzed when ashore. On occasion he'd been invited to balls and assemblies, even a surgeon being a useful man to have when the navy was expected to provide gentlemen at entertainments. But he'd never felt the music, the dance had never mattered so mu
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