[And that, the moment the music changes, is the moment Merlin stumbles over his own feet. It's hardly enough to be a disruption, let alone a full-scale topple to the ground, but it's noticeable enough for him to make another face, sheepish for the brief moment it takes him to collect himself again.

The slower tempo is closer to his earlier dance with Rosalind, so maybe he'll actually do better at this one. Fingers crossed. He doesn't mind the compliment at all, but reacts with the same almost surprised chuckle as a moment ago.]

I can't be handsome in sackcloth? Perhaps I should give up coats entirely. [Jokes.....] Or you could get me a very fine velvet bag for my potatoes.