I think it would be very sad to dance as if you were walking, miss.
"Certainly you realize that approaching me in front of Lady Betterly and Miss Felter made it next to impossible for me to politely refuse your invitation." Constance lifted in her chin in the most polite show offense she could muster.
"Of course I did, for once all this ridiculous etiquette has played to my favor." Selden smiled brazenly, unafraid to flaunt his satisfaction.
Mr. John Selden was the son of a Smith street watchmaker that had clawed his way from the working class to the top of London society, if only for his excessive fortune. Many of London's social elite were indebted to Selden for his savvy business sense and investment advice; they might feel obligated to invite him to social events but would never call him a friend. A few forward thinking peers would have Selden to their homes or clubs, and he had several wealthy climber friends that he was known to carouse with frequently.
Selden fared well enough in polite company but resented the class differences he felt so keenly and could never escape. He often felt like a wolf in sheep's clothing although the sheep were quite well aware of his wolfishness. His appearance didn't help his case. While most aristocrats carried softer features and a pallor unique to easy living, Selden had fair skin that freckled and browned in the summer sun and his coarse, wavy hair was a deepest shade of brown that matched his eyes. His high cheek bones could be looked upon favorably but paired with his straight lined Greek nose it made his gaze exceptionally focused and often intimidating. For a man who wasn't gifted in small talk, such an appearance simply complicated matters.
Miss Constance Taylor on the other hand was fair in all regards. Her fine blonde hair was lighter in color than wheat, closer to sunshine than candlelight. In her light blue silk gown she appeared as a snow queen but in warmer colors she could appear incandescent. Her eyes were a grey-blue that was altogether too serious for her youthful appearance.
It was her eyes and the strong set of her jaw whenever he prowled near her that drew Selden to Constance. She wasn't the soft girl everyone assumed her to be-even her herself seemed to be unaware of her inherit grit. Selden had to know more, so he pushed and plied and fought his way closer to her and had finally found a way to trap her into a waltz.
"Well I'm very glad that you have finally found some use for etiquette." Constance remarked as she turned toward him and took his hand for the dance. "However I cannot condone your methods."
Selden frowned, "I don't see anything wrong with pursuing my goals with fervor."
"One should never over exert oneself in any pursuit, never appear to strain himself or be out of sorts." Constance shook her head in pert assertion, "No. It's simply not acceptable behavior for any lady or gentleman. I would certainly never dance with any more effort than appropriate for a brisk walk in the park."
On the next turn Selden leaned close to ear and said softly, "I think it would be very sad for you to only dance as if you were merely walking, Miss Taylor."
Constance felt his breath on her neck and gasped, her perfect dancing form slackening. The warm air pushed the light curls from her skin and she felt scandalously exposed. A flush swept across her cheeks as an icy vulnerability slithered from her heart to her stomach.
Selden strengthened his grip on her back and smirked, drawing her into another spin with a zest that forced her attention back to their physical union. Constance frowned, digging her left fingers into his shoulder as her brow furrowed. Promptly assessing the inappropriate expression she checked herself, softening her grip and features.
"Out of sorts is the best of sorts I know." Selden firmly led them around the dance floor, relishing the storm clouds in her eyes.
Okay, so I tweaked the prompt sentence a little bit. Maybe that is cheating. I don't know. I won't call it so if you won't tattle on me :)