Thomas turned to the girl and bowed his best, rising with his hand extended. “I am honoured to dance with so fine a young lady, and only hope my dancing will be a compliment to your own.”
The girl blushed even brighter and turned to look at her father. “Da!”
“Oh, go with him, Rose,” said Patrick. “He’s a good one, notwithstanding how he talks.” He smiled at her when she hesitated. “Go on, then.”
She took Thomas’s hand and curtsied. “The honour would be mine, sir.”
The musicians struck up another tune and Thomas led her through the opening steps, Patrick and Eileen following closely behind. The dance was a pattern dance, the couples moving in stately fashion in gradually shrinking circles and squares that, just when it seemed there was no room left, would blossom outward again.
Rose wa
