Deleted scene from Torn
This scene was deleted from Chapter 19 during the dinner at the Morehead's.
The Imperial Waltz originated in Vienna in the 13th century, but it wasn't until around 1812, that it was introduced to England. At that time, it was considered quite immodest due to how closely the couples danced. Young ladies were required to seek permission from older patronesses before they could participate in the dance.
In Torn, the discussion around the Morehead's dinner table had focussed on the Imperial Waltz and its vulgarity, even though few of the guests had experienced the dance.
Miss Bradbury had finally ceased the fluttering of her fan and she looked to her niece. “Come girl…let’s hear a tune.”
“What shall I play?” Adrienne asked shaking out her hands.
“Something with a three-quarter beat…moderate tempo,” Patrick said coming into the room behind Deon and a handful of the younger gentlemen.
“Excuse me…!” Miss Bradbury’s fan resumed its flapping with an indignant rhythm.
As he passed, my brother took my arm and led me to the centre of the room. Turning to Adrienne, he said, “Ready?” Her pale face stared at him in some surprise but she nodded and began to play.
Patrick's face was perfectly devoid of expression and I hoped mine was equally composed as before the entire gathering, he pulled me towards him. “Put this hand here,” he said quite business-like, “and give me your other.” He chucked me under the chin, “Look up, and not at your feet, step first with your right and follow my lead…slightly slower, please,” he directed Adrienne and turned back to me. “Ready, and…one…two…three, one…two…three…”
I was clumsy, I missed a beat, I stepped forward when I should have stepped back, I used my left when it should have been my right, but he led strongly and after a couple of false starts I knew I had it and danced better than I ever thought I could.
Before long, our audience had caught on to the pattern and couples were joining in. The room was hardly big enough and there was much laughter and bumping into one another with accompanied cries of, “Ouch! That’s my foot you great lump!”
Mister Crabtree was sniffing, standing by the wall with a look of outrage on his face. Miss Bradbury at his side, stood with nostrils flared and lips pursed, making a great show of her disapproval by fanning herself with such vigour her jowls wobbled.
There were certainly more people enjoying the dance than disdaining it. I saw Gerrard and Mother dancing together and appearing rather amicable while Julia, flushed with pleasure, sailed passed in Deon's arms.
In the press of dancers, Patrick and I found ourselves boxed-in against a settee. “I think we’ve run aground,” my partner said, laughing.
“Excuse me, wonder would you mind very much if I interrupted,” said an older lady at my shoulder. “Mister Walsham is all left-footed and I’ve a mind to dance with one who knows how.”
Reluctanly, I stepped aside as the matron moved into my place and ordered, “Now, you hold me tightly, young man.”
“I certainly shall, Mrs. Walsham,“ Pat replied solemnly though his eyes were alive with mischief. He pulled the older lady hard against him, grinning at her little gasp of scandalised delight. “Ready, and..."