greenjacketed: (♖ but your soul you must keep)
major richard sharpe ([personal profile] greenjacketed) wrote in [personal profile] stillplaying 2013-06-08 04:49 pm (UTC)

[ years ago -- before he he was a soldier -- he could recall rollicking tunes on pipes and drums in the slummiest pubs of london. and to accompany them, the ratta-tat-tats of dancers' feet on old wooden boards. but he'd been a boy, then, and as free in his affection as he used to be with his words. maggie-joyce had brought out the best in him.

but then there had been the army. even then, some men in the ranks would get together and give the camp wives a whirl when time and energy allowed it. however, after being promoted into the officer's class, such romp and fun had been ended for our tall rifleman. an officer -- a gentleman -- was meant to engage in only two dancehalls: great glittering estates or the bloody battlefield. and sharpe felt at home on the latter, but lost in the first.

once, a member of the dutch royalty had proclaimed he expected sharpe would dance like a heifer. thump thump thump, and all the time with that gloomy expression on his face. for he was a man out of his element, and years of it had killed his confidence for even the most casual merrymaking. ]


They would be well within their right to. I'd laugh, as well, to see myself.

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