Chapter Four – Of Misunderstandings and Missing Doctors

Rose plopped herself down onto a velvet sofa as ladylike as possible. Her dancing slippers were too narrow in the toe and she could feel a blister forming, plus both feet ached from the hours of standing around and brisk dancing. Just try to get Shireen and Mickey to do this sort of thing! They'd laugh themselves silly at the sight of so many people parading around the dance floor, mimicking the movements of the leading couple. The main style of dance resembled square dancing more than anything, though it looked rather more elegant since the men wore fancy suits and the women wore long dresses of satin or lace.

As she unobtrusively slipped her shoes off and lifted one foot to rub, Rose overheard two gentlemen talking. One seemed to be encouraging the other to ask a certain lonely girl to dance, and the other seemed adamant about refusing.

"She is tolerable," he said, "But not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

Rose glanced over and saw Jane staring at the two men with a crushed look on her face. Stunned, she recognized Christopher as the rude gentleman. As Jane shrugged her shoulders and visibly shook off the insult, the other man returned to his lady. Christopher walked toward Rose, his face lighting up when he caught her looking at him.

She frowned in response, wondering how he could be so rude toward his cousin. The manner in which he had spoken seemed odd, too. Too formal and wordy, not unlike the paragraphs Mrs Morris had read in the old book the night before. When he stood before her and bowed, she stared at him. "I heard what you said," she accused.

"Yes? And did I do poorly, to receive such disfavour with the Lady Rose?"

She stared at him. "You said such horrid things, right where she could hear you! I know you don't like her, but don't you think that's a bit slag?"

"She was supposed to overhear. That's how the story goes." He looked at her a bit oddly. "You did realize this was a rehearsal, did you not?"

"Yes, that's what everyone keeps saying. But a rehearsal for what?"

"For the Season, of course. This is the first ball, during which Mr Darcy refuses to dance with Elizabeth. I've been elected to play Mr Darcy and Jane's played Elizabeth for the past four years. My sister had been elected, just before the accident..." His voice trailed off. "But surely you know how it is done. Is it not the same in London?"

Rose made a neutral sound and bent over to fiddle with her shoe, tying the ribbons around her ankle while thinking. Mindful of what the Doctor had said, she tried to keep her actions hidden below the hem of her gown. She thought she recognized the names Christopher had mentioned from the book Mrs Morris had read aloud, but why would they be acting out scenes from it during a ball?

"Perhaps you will allow me to fetch you a glass of punch, Lady Rose, that I might regain any favour lost?"

She couldn't help but smile. And the punch, once he brought it to her, tasted divine and restored both her energy and her spirits. Christopher proved to be as charming as he'd seemed when she first met him—nothing like the character she'd overheard him portraying.

"If I may ask, how long have you known the Doctor? I understand he is your guardian?"

"Oh, it seems like forever," she said, unwilling to admit that they'd only been travelling together for two years. He was supposed to have been a family friend, someone she'd grown up knowing and only recently begun to travel with, at least, according to their cover story.

"He is very protective," Christopher said hesitantly.

"That's just the way he is! We look out for each other. Can't be apart more than a few minutes without getting into trouble." She laughed, and he listened with gracious attention as she spun out one of their adventures. They'd been in medieval London, not some alien world, so she only had to change a few details to fit into what she'd seen of this time and place.

"Fascinating. Truly, you lead a remarkable life, my lady. To be honest, I don't know if I could live like that. I've always wanted to travel and see the world, but to only return home on occasion? I would miss it, I think. Do you not?"

"Sometimes. But you don't have time to miss the normal things when you're with the Doctor! You're too busy exploring strange cities and meeting new people. Before... it wasn't any kind of life, y'know? Just the same things, over and over. And then, he took me by the hand and yanked me into his world. I haven't looked back since. I don't think I could go back to a normal life again, even if I wanted."

Christopher nodded slowly. "Well then, you are fortunate to be able to travel as you do, to live the sort of life you desire. Not many have the courage to do so."p He spoke of himself just a little, enough to interest her without boring her with all the details of his profession. The more they chatted, the more she warmed up to him, and before she realized it, most of the evening had passed by.

And, as promised, the Doctor sought her out. "Ah, Rose! There you are. And Mr Morris, good to see you again. Taking care of Rose, are you?"

"Yes, indeed, Doctor, though I believe I gave her a start when she overheard part of the rehearsal without realizing it had begun." Christopher gave a wry smile and a bow, then excused himself.

The Doctor sat down beside Rose. "If your feet are up for it, shall we take the next dance?"

"You're joking!"

He gave her a wounded look. "I never joke about dancing. Come on, up you go. I think it's a quadrille next..."

She let him help her stand, then followed him to the dance floor just as a sedate waltz began.

"Or, maybe not. All right, let's see if I can remember how this goes." He slid one hand into her palm and the other around her waist, then led the way, following the beat of the music. It was all she could do to keep up, having never attempted to dance, other than a few giggling practice sessions with Shireen late at night, after watching old romance films.

"There you go, you're doing fine," he said warmly. "Just remember the beat, one-two-three. Did you know that the waltz caused quite a stir when it first came out? It was banned in most respectable towns for some time."

"Why's that?" She tried not to notice how cool the Doctor's hand felt against the curve of her waist, and the fact that she could smell his unique alien scent, a blend of cinnamon and honey. The old Doctor had smelled like lemons and cinnamon, but this one had a warmer scent. It had taken her weeks to get used to it. Normally it calmed her, made her feel safe, but right now it made her uneasy and self-conscious.

"This is a very erotic dance," he admitted, after some pause. "Or, at least, the pre-Victorians thought so. One man dancing with one woman for the entire dance, never changing partners. Always touching, hand in hand, facing each other. That's why the arms are supposed to be kept stiff—to keep a respectable distance between each other. It's all too easy to drift closer, you know."

And she did know, since the lapels of the Doctor's jacket kept brushing against the front of her gown.

"Have you learned anything from your eavesdropping?" she asked, to change the subject.

"Oh, yes! As a matter of fact, I have. Quite a few things are beginning to make sense. There's still one huge question hanging over it all, though. Need to do a bit more investigating."

"But what have you found out?"

"Well, for example, have you noticed that every other woman in the village is named Elizabeth? They each have their own nickname, of course. Lizzie, Libbie, Etta, Betty, Iza, and so on."

"Maybe they just really like the Queen."

"Ah, but they don't have a Queen. Not like we do. There's an elected representative of the people who is called King or Queen, but it has nothing to do with bloodlines. And besides, Queen Elizabeth the First reigned a couple of centuries before all this appears to be. They wouldn't have any particular reason for honouring her above the others. Should take you to meet her sometime... I've been to sixteenth century London, of course, but never to the royal court. Might be entertaining, don't you think?"

He nudged her out away from him, then spun her back to his side, so skilfully that she'd barely had time to realize what he'd done. She laughed breathlessly. Waltzing with the Doctor! She never would have believed it.

"I learned something, too, though maybe it's not important. This whole dance is something to do with the book Mrs Morris was reading to us. S'like they're acting it out."

The Doctor looked pleased as he spun them around a slower couple. "Figured that out, did you? Good for you. Matter of fact, I think this whole society is based on that one book."

"How can that be?" She frowned up at him.

"Don't know. That's what I need to find out. And I intend to, first thing tomorrow."

-oo-O-oo-

Rose woke with a headache and tender feet. She moaned as she slid out of bed and tried to stand.

"Oh, don't try to get up yet," Mrs Morris cried from the doorway. She brought a basin of hot water and placed it on the floor beside the bed. "Here, soak your feet in this awhile, m'lady. I remember how Davinia used to come home from the balls with feet swollen and aching. The water will soothe them."

The hot water felt heavenly, as did the cool compress on her forehead. But, "I haven't time to be pampered this morning," she lamented. "The Doctor and I are going out first thing. He'll be waiting for me, moaning about how much I sleep."

Mrs Morris glanced up with an odd expression. "But the Doctor's left already. He said not to wake you."

Rose felt a sinking feeling in her chest. "He hasn't..."

"Oh, but he has. More than an hour ago, and he asked that we not wait supper for him tonight. He might be back late."

"You don't mean he's actually left? Without me?"

"He said he checked in on you, but that you were sleeping like an angel and he couldn't bear to disturb you. It's why I waited so long to come up with the hot water."

"But how'd he leave? On foot?" Maybe she could catch up to him, the nervy git.

"He walked about early this morning, I believe, but came back with mud all over his coat and said he'd be taking the carriage. I daresay he managed to repair it, though I don't know what's become of your horses, lost in the bog. Ours are still in the stable, though, so he must've found your own on his excursion this morning."

Rose wiped her feet dry and pulled her clothes on as quickly as she could, mumbling the whole time about promises and being left behind. With Mrs Morris following anxiously behind, she hurried down the stairs and out the door. Once outside the cottage, she paused and glanced around. "Which way to the stables?"

Mrs Morris pointed, and Rose ran, her skirts flying around her calves. It took some effort to open the heavy stable door, but she managed. Inside, she looked around as her eyes adjusted. She saw the outline of stalls for horses, the bulk of equipment such as saddles and harnesses. And a glaringly bare area set aside for an extra carriage. She stood in that empty spot and scanned the ground. A depression in the soft dirt caught her eye and she traced the shape of a square, little over a metre wide.

"He's left me, the rotten tosser! 'Not you,' he says, but where is he now?" she cried, turning away from the bare space. "The filthy lying prick! I'm bloody gonna kill him, I am."

Mrs Morris wrung her hands. "Lady Rose... He didn't mean to upset you. I know he didn't. I'm sure if you wait, he'll be back and with an explanation."

"He doesn't need one. He's the Doctor," she said quietly.

(To Be Continued...)

Author's Note: Due to my being out of town, the next update will not be until Monday or Tuesday. Thus the early chapter today!