Love in Three-Quarter Time by Dina Sleiman Page B

church at the courthouse the day before. Constance stood in the expansive ballroom, which had been added off the side of the parlor at Mrs. Beaumont’s insistence years ago. The line of windows along the gold walls featured crimson velvet curtains.
    But the girls in front of Constance in no way lived up to the elegant expectations of the setting. Molly arched her back, thrusting her ample chest before her and pointing her nose to the ceiling. Dolly stood beside her, rear extended too far to the back.
    â€œNo, no, girls. Imagine thou are a puppet on a string.” Constance moved to each of them and pulled an invisible string at the top of their heads, brushing her hand along their plump bodies to create the right shape.
    The improvement was immediate.
    â€œVery nice, darlings,” Mrs. Beaumont called from the corner, where she supposedly worked on her embroidery.
    â€œDolly, angle thy toes out a wee bit more.” Constance demonstrated again.
    The girl turned her toes, but in the process bent her knees and poked out her bottom. Perhaps this was futile.
    â€œNever mind. Go back to how thou were.”
    Constance had wished to begin with ballet training, but given only two weeks, she must focus entirely on the steps for now. At least she had convinced Mrs. Beaumont to keep to a country dance with its calls and variations for the practice party. The dreaded waltz could wait for now.
    â€œTry to maintain a proper posture and imitate this simple step. Watch first, please.” Constance stood before the girls facing the same direction they faced and began a simple shuffling movement side to side. “Now try it with me.” She ran through several more repetitions. “And continue as I turn to observe.”
    She spun around just in time to see them bumbling in the wrong directions on heavy feet with no rhythm whatsoever before Dolly tripped over Molly.
    Molly grabbed her foot, hollering “Ow!,” and proceeded to hop about on her other foot, which sent her colliding into Dolly. Dolly, still attempting the steps, lost her balance and crashed to the floor. At which point, the one-footed Molly crumbled on top.
    Constance stood gaping before the tumble of blue and pink skirts. At least the girls kept their colors consistent, and she could tell them apart.
    â€œI see you have a great deal of work ahead of you, Miss Cavendish.” Mrs. Beaumont called with a grin.
    Why must the woman be in here? But on second thought, better she know the disaster Constance faced at the beginning. In this situation, she would do much better if judged upon improvement rather than skill.
    Two weeks?

CHAPTER 8
    Constance pushed her dumpling about her plate. The scent of cinnamon and baked apples should have tempted her, but her appetite deserted her as the moment of truth approached. In a few short minutes she would be forced to dance hand in hand with Robert Montgomery. He had begged off from exhaustion on Monday. Failed to show entirely on Tuesday. But Mrs. Beaumont had sent her husband to drag him here today.
    No doubt he dreaded this moment as much as Constance did. They both had too many memories, too many feelings.
    â€œEnough of this lollygagging. Both of you, time to dance.” Mrs. Beaumont clapped and stood. Constance looked up and observed that everyone had finished dessert but Robbie and her.
    She could postpone the demonstration no longer. Constance had managed to get the girls at least stumbling in the right direction and turning on the appointed counts. Performing with Robbie would give her a perfect opportunity to exhibit the technique she desired and the importance of the advice she’d been giving them.
    The twins tittered as they headed to the ballroom. Mr. Percy excused himself, and Mr. Beaumont offered his arm to his wife. Only Robbie and Constance dawdled behind.
    â€œYou look as though you must march to your own execution, Miss Cavendish,” Robbie snorted.
    Constance raised her