The Hunley: The Civil War's Secret Weapon
Dixon turned to face her and bowed. “May I have the honor of your company, Miss?” The lady rose and curtsied.
“I would be delighted,” she said.
Dixon’s heart thudded inside his chest when she smiled and extended her gloved hand to him. She wore a blue dress, full at the bottom with layers and layers of petticoats. She was shorter and more svelte than Miss Blackmoor.
The other ladies in the area stopped talking and shifted their attention to him. He could feel their eyes upon them and was sure they were jealous that he had chosen her.
When he took her hand, it was as if a lightning bolt went through him as his body tingled at her touch. He had kept company with several ladies in his young life, but none affected him this way. He looked down at her to see if she felt it, too, and noticed her wonderful brown eyes looking up at him. A man could get lost in those eyes, he thought as they walked toward the dance floor.