Part 3 – In which the Doctor must dance

"I must say I think that girl dancing with Mr Whitacker rather plain."

"Yes, I quite agree. Not at all handsome."

The Doctor, too, had been watching that particular couple, although not for the same reason. Sarah was whirling around, her skirt flying out, looking positively overjoyed to be attending a proper ball.

"Actually, I think she's the prettiest girl in the room," he told the two women. "In fact, I do believe that she is the prettiest girl in the universe."

He left them then and approached Sarah, whose partner had just released her. "A dance, Miss Smith?" he asked.

"I would be honoured," she replied, allowing him to manoeuvre her into the proper hold. "It's like being in something by Jane Austen."

"Who would we be?" he asked curiously.

"I think you would make a lovely Mr Darcy," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Which means I must be Lizzie."

"Does that mean that I'm insufferably proud?" he teased her.

"No. It means that you're my hero."