Takes place during episode 2.04, "The Girl in the Fireplace"
The enemy was defeated, the clockwork men essentially dead, their purpose gone. Every crewmember on that ship that was killed would still beat life until their parts, too, wore out and died. His hand was in Reinette's, his eyes on the shattered mirror.
His only way home. Should've...planted a recall in the TARDIS, or gave Rose instructions how to fly it...but there was no time, and Reinette would now be like one of those on that ship---another part, another piece of what they thought would "fix" it if he had stayed even a moment longer.
The rest of the party guests, or whoever they were, seemed to be regaining themselves. They looked both confused and frightened still, though moreso now at the 'Lord of Time' that stood holding the King of France's mistress's hand than at the now-still monsters that had been attacking moments before.
They would be asking questions soon, questions the Doctor knew he wouldn't be able to answer. He turned to Reinette, his voice low, "Is there somewhere we can go? To talk?" He supposed it would've been 'proper' and all that to ask the King first, but, really, when the Doctor wore green he wore it well.