    My mate had introduced us a few weeks before when we was all on reprieve.  She was a waitress at this little place in South Camden, a pretty little pink sheep.  She had the prettiest blue eyes... the place hadn't gotten electricity yet, and the yellow light from the gaslamps made her eyes shine like carnival glass.  My mate... God I can’t even remember his name... His girl was a cougar, a little bit of a big girl but still cute enough.  But Meigan...  Her chest and belly were smooth and without any fur, and the light shimmer out from her low neckline made it more than a little hard to keep my eyes up.  We talked for what seemed like hours, about the most... inane things, but she was intrigued by the adventure of it all, being a soldier, a Lancer especially.  Whenever it was her turn to speak, I have to admit it was a little hard to keep from daydreaming while listening to the exploits of a full-time waitress, but her sweet voice kept my mind from wandering too far away.  By the time that the clock struck midnight my mate and his lady had gone on...  I don’t know if you’ve been there but South Camden is a bloody coopered ken, so I walked her home that night.  Half the ducketts in that part of down are bludgers, so I figured I’d stick around and do ‘em down if anyone tried to bother her.  All went well though, and we made it without a hitch.  She gave me a nice little kiss on the cheek and went in and to bed.  

    For the next couple of weeks we had a date whenever I had leave, going to a few penny gaffs and to a little carnival in Southwark.  I showed her how to win at knobbing while we were there.  Heh, some drunk took us for Hector and Judy and tried to give her a joey and drag her off behind the merry-go-round.  I almost did him down but she yanked on him and he tripped on himself.  She was a little scared but the mutcher-bait started snoring, so...

Anyway, we rode a ferry back across the Thames.  We rode up on the deck, and it was late enough we were about the only people there.  She looked so precious in a simple flower-print dress, with a long-ish skirt that gave just a hint of her ankles and dainty little hooves.  In the silver moonlight her eyes shined the brightest blue, like sapphires set in a classic statue.  Her brown hair flowed in the wind, a flowery scent wafting into my nose as I stood behind her, looking her up and down, tracing her silhouette against the shimmering black water.  She gasped when I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight to me, and pressed my nose into her neck, getting a deep breath of her hair and the slight scent of sweat from the night’s dancing.  I asked her to go to the ball that night.  

I had to give her a reader with a few dozen finnys so she could get a dress, heh, we kept the runner busy sending notes back and forth about what color or what style, trying to talk her into spending it all instead of bringing me the change... she was sweet that way.  I had split the price for a growler with my mate, so we had a nice ride.  I couldn’t sit still the whole way to her flat, fidgeting with my uniform, keeping things straight and neat, fighting to breath with through the bloody collar and 8 layers of wool the damned thing was made of.  My mate told me to be happy we weren’t dragoons, at least.  When she answered the door... Oh God when she answered the door... She was magnificent... I can’t even describe it to you... I felt like I was looking at a painting of an angel or some far away princess, the rotten doorframe turning gilded in my eyes... She blushed at me and held out her gloved hand for me to help her down the stairs.  I guided her down and into the carriage.  I just stared at her, blush shining through my black fur and my jaw hanging a little slack.  She giggled and blushed, looking out the window and hiding her face with a fan.  My mate smacked my jaw back up and laughed, telling me something about drooling on my uniform, I don’t really remember what it was... it was funny at the time though.  

When we finally got there I couldn’t dismount fast enough.  I had to get this woman out of this carriage, get my arms around her, anything.  I felt like a prince walking in with her on my arm, and all eyes turned.  I kissed her cheek and she returned one, and we went straight to the dancefloor.  I don’t recall how long we danced.  It seemed like hours, but nowhere near long enough.  I don’t know if I breathed the whole time, or if I even blinked, or if I just stared adoringly into those eyes of hers the whole time like an idiot.  I can still see her face.  I can’t count the times I’ve dreamt of that night...




Chauncyuniformpics(  http://www.directart.co.uk/mall/images/dhm1185.jpg  http://www.victorianweb.org/graphics/portraits/lancer.jpg  http://www.britishempire.co.uk/images/17thlancerswombwell.jpg )