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found their way into that tent. At the far end, the small brass ensemble drowned out the distant sound of guns.
    The cornetist was as brilliant as promised. And black, but no one seemed to have any objection to him, so long as he was playing. It was absurd that Helen could not join them here. And yet … Ginger recalled with unease how she would have reacted before she worked with Helen.
    She rather hoped that Helen was also enjoying a night out. It was such a delight to be out of the shapeless uniform and pretending to be part of a normal couple in love.
    Across the floor, Joanne and Edna had found partners and danced away, while Ben’s hand at Ginger’s back guided her through the slow-slow-quick-quick of the new dance craze.
    The blue gauze of her skirt billowed as they spun about the floor. It would be nicer if Ben were in evening dress instead of Army drab. Still, under her left hand, his shoulder was delightfully firm. Ginger gave it a squeeze. “How did you have time to learn the foxtrot?”
    â€œWhen I was in Paris.” He tilted his head and deployed his dimples. “It was an assignment. You don’t mind that I danced with other women, do you?”
    â€œHardly. I dance with other men.”
    He rocked her in a three-part turn. “Part of your hospitality duty. I know. I try not to be jealous.”
    â€œDo you succeed?”
    â€œNot really. No.” But he winked, and his aura was amber with pleasure. “Oh, bother. Speaking of duty…”
    Ginger glanced around as Ben steered her off the dance floor towards a beefy man with an aquiline nose. His blond hair had been darkened by a coat of brilliantine and lay flat against his head as if it were painted there. Over the wool and sweat of the assembly floated a scent of musk and honey. “Ben! Old man. I see you have found the prettiest lady available.”
    â€œReg.” Ben released his hold on Ginger and shook the big man’s hand. “May I present you to my fiancée, Miss Virginia Stuyvesant. Ginger, my cousin Captain Reginald Harford.”
    â€œAh…” Ginger offered her hand. “So you are the infamous heir presumptive?”
    Laughing, Reginald revealed that dimples were a family trait. “He delights in teasing me with unlikely scenarios. Though I won’t deny that I’d hoped Ben wouldn’t marry.” He bowed over Ginger’s hand as if he were in evening dress. “But, meeting you, I would guess that my chance of inheriting just shrunk significantly. Have you a sister?”
    Ginger laughed. “An only child, I’m afraid.”
    â€œPity.” Reginald eyed Ben, and then the dance floor. “Would you mind terribly if I borrowed your fiancée for a dance?”
    Ben shrugged and shook his head. He was all affable on the outside, but his aura suddenly flared green. “Bad timing, I’m afraid. We were just going to call it a night.”
    â€œAh well. Another time, Miss Stuyvesant.”
    â€œI hope so, Captain Harford.” Ginger looked around the crowded tent, spying the girls from her circle. “Over there … do you see the brunette in the blue dress? That’s Edna Newbold. Ask her to dance. Joanne, the girl next to her, will want to, but she’ll step on your feet.”
    Reginald winked at her. “I appreciate the warning.”
    â€œReg—” Ben took him by the arm. “Edna is a nice young woman. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
    â€œBut that so limits my opportunities.” He gave a little bow and, with a wink, made his way into the crowd.
    The dancers quickly swallowed him, but Ginger still waited a moment before leaning in to whisper in Ben’s ear. “What was that about?”
    â€œI told you I was not good at suppressing my jealousy.” Ben offered her his arm and led her through the tent to the outside. “Besides, he had a … certain reputation at university