Witches Abroad (Discworld 12)

'Yes?'

'You promised me the honour of this dance, m'lady?'

'No I didn't.'

The man looked puzzled. 'But I assure you, Lady D'Arrangement . . . your card . . . my name is Colonel Moutarde ..."

Granny gave him a look of deep suspicion, and then read the dance card attached to her fan.

'Oh.'

'Do you know how to dance?' hissed Nanny.

'Of course.'

'Never seen you dance,' said Nanny.

Granny Weatherwax had been on the point of giving the colonel as polite a refusal as she could manage. Now she threw back her shoulders defiantly.

'A witch can do anything she puts her mind to, Gytha Ogg. Come, Mr Colonel.'

Nanny watched as the pair disappeared into the throng.

' 'Allo, foxy lady,' said a voice behind her. She looked around. There was no-one there.

'Down here.'

She looked down.

A very small body wearing the uniform of a captain in the palace guard, a powdered wig and an ingratiating smile beamed up at her.

'My name's Casanunda,' he said. 'I'm reputed to be the world's greatest lover. What do you think?'

Nanny Ogg looked him up and down or, at least, down and further down.

'You're a dwarf,' she said.

'Size isn't important.'

Nanny Ogg considered her position. One colleague known for her shy and retiring nature was currently acting like that whatshername, the heathen queen who was always playing up to men and bathing in asses' milk and stuff, and the other one was acting very odd and dancing with a man even though she didn't know one foot from the other. Nanny Ogg felt she was at least owed a bit of time in which to be her own woman.

'Can you dance as well?' she said wearily.

'Oh yes. How about a date?'

'How old do you think I am?' said Nanny.

Casanunda considered. 'All right, then. How about a prune?'

Nanny sighed, and reached down for his hand. 'Come on.'

Lady Volentia D'Arrangement staggered limply along a passageway, a forlorn thin shape in complicated corsetry and ankle-length underwear.

She wasn't at all sure what had happened. There had been that frightful woman, and then this feeling of absolute bliss and then . . . she'd been sitting on the carpet with her dress off. Lady Volentia had been to enough balls in her dull life to know that there were occasions when you woke up in strange rooms with your dress off, but that tended to be later in the evening and at least you had some idea of why you were there . . .

She eased her way along, holding on to the wall. Someone was definitely going to get told off about this.

A figure came around a bend in the corridor, idly tossing a turkey leg into the air with one hand and catching it with the other.