George forgot the first of the rules Captain Blackadder had laid out almost as soon as Melchett picked him up from the trenches to go to the ball. He did feel bad for a moment, but how could he be expected not to respond when a general addressed him? That would be tantamount to insubordination.
He forgot the second rule half an hour later, dazzled by the glitter and glamour of the ballroom. There were very few females present, but what a handsome, bejeweled display the men made! And everyone was so nice to Georgina. Soon George could barely remember there ever had been any nasty rules. He did, however, keep his wig on.
Neither did he remember the third rule when stepping out to the veranda for a breath of fresh air with the general. He was buzzed on champagne, and as Melchett approached him with his eyes twinkling above the bushy moustache, fixing him with that intense, adoring attention, it quite made George's insides flutter.
"My Georgina," Melchett muttered and pulled him close. George allowed himself to be enfolded and kissed, a big, wet, firm and bristly kiss that made his head swirl with rather naughty thoughts.
He did not lock his hands behind the general's head and mush their mouths together. It would not have been ladylike. Besides, with a growing sense of panic, he was beginning to remember the last of the captain's rules.
"You are a gentleman, I hope," George said instead, laying his hands weakly on Melchett's waist, almost hoping the answer would be no. He blushed brightly at the images the scene conjured, the two of them tangled behind the flower arrangement, getting squilchy and bouncy and probably ripping George's dress. Golly!
Melchett fell on his knees with a bright grin on his face and, really, things rather went downhill from there.