Dignity and Depravity

Chapter X

Sitting in the drawing room with the Dyers, it became painfully apparent to Thomas Archer that he was long unaccustomed to proper civil repertoire. Although many gentleman were present within his regiment, the title was a reflection of character and comportment, rather than of social standing. Commissions were easily obtained for prominent families. Should a wayward son not bend to pressures to be a remittance man within the colonies, they often became a gentleman ranker in the militia. Liberal allowances, questionable morals, and a propensity for movement across the country led many of these men to revel in the means to escape their questionable pasts. Officers who respectfully purchased their own commissions found that the lack of action on the front lines became tedious. Time was then passed socializing with local families, attending balls, and playing cards, leading many of Thomas' fellow men to become quite doltish, indeed.

His quinquennial commitment has seemed a great privileged when Thomas believed he would be serving and keeping the peace for his country. As time surpassed and idleness set in, Thomas began to question the vehemence of his decision to join the militia. Little ascendancy and fortitude was demonstrated when many of the military men used the nomadic lifestyle to not only traipse upon new ground, but also to forge all manner of impudent behaviour.  Many a farmer's daughter and dept collector had been left bereft in the wake of militia men. As none of the avocations were enticing to Thomas, he often found himself at odds with the comportment his fellow officers. 

More recently, Thomas had found himself in a particularly onerous predicament.  He had initially entered the ranks as a Second Lieutenant, and as his record was above reproach he was given the opportunity to elevate to the position of Lieutenant.  Having held that office for three years, Thomas had become a well-respected commander within his garrison.  Now, as winter approached and much planning was needed to billet the officers in nearby villages, Thomas was considered logical choice for captaincy.  Grievously of late, Colonel Bradford, an aristocrat with a propensity for gambling, had taken command of the encampment at Brighton.  His gaming debts had left him in need of ready cash, and news circulated quickly that the Colonel was willing to offer promotions in exchange for funds above and beyond the cost of the commission.  In this unpropitious turn of events, Thomas was denied his promotional tenure as he was unwilling to support such corrupt personal profit.

To further substantiate his resolve, within quick order Thomas sold out his commission and retired from military life.  His regimentals had been packed up, and he once again found himself thrust into the life and rank of the lower gentry.  As indebted as he was to his aunt for raising him as a gentleman, he felt woefully unprepared at this current moment.  Having been only twenty years old when he enrolled in the militia, Thomas had spent very few years in society without his red coat to distinguish him.  More particularly at this moment, he was quite aware of his inabilities to adequately address members of the fairer sex, especially ones he found so beautiful as Amelia Dyer.

Officers may be known to be handsome, but their wives were not held to the same standard, thought Thomas.  More often than not, it was fortunes that attracted courtship rather than plain faces.  Colonel Bradford's wife had been coarse, indeed.  Perhaps it was part of the reason he spend so many hours in gentleman's clubs rather than in her company.  Yet, had she half the beauty of Mrs. Dyer's fine eyes, Thomas reflected, he might never have left the house again.

Thomas had been instantly struck the moment he walked in to the drawing room.  The woman across from him was the very one that had caught his attention as he approached Eagleton Manor in the coach.  Through its windows, Thomas had espied a neat figure running and laughing as the person dashed down the hill towards the house.  He had expected it be a maid or a young ward, not the mistress of the house herself.  However, Thomas had instantly recognized the blonde curls and brightly coloured shawl draped over the chair next to Mrs. Dyer leaving no doubt as to identity of the mysterious figure.

The silence that had surpassed between them while waiting for John to arrive had been impregnated with Thomas' need to explore all aspects of her beauty.  He had stolen glances to appreciate her figure, hoping that this flagrant impertinence would be ignored by the lady.  Thomas noted that the indigo half-boots she wore were scuffed, suggesting that exercise was a regular practice. Amelia's white morning dress was simple and practical, having very little adornments.  The cuff of the long suplice sleeves and hem of the dress were traced by simple white embroidered flowers, and Thomas wondered if this was her own handiwork.  The high collared chemisette tucked just under her chin, highlighting her long and elegant neckline, as well as the exquisite curve of her face.

Still, it was Mrs. Dyer's face that was most captivating.  Her face was long, but not angular, and delicate.  Her cheeks were fresh, reminding him of ripened plums, enlivened by time spent outdoors.  Her nose was dainty, with a soft curve at the tip. A small, barely visible, smattering of freckles trailed from midway across one cheek, over the top bridge of her nose, to stop midway across the other cheek.  A wondrous sight, for many woman consider these imperfections unsightly and covered them with powder.  How lovely it is that she embraces them, thought Thomas.

Mrs. Dyer's cherubic lips were pink and naturally full, with slight curve at the outer edges evincing that she was a woman who valued humour.  Thomas was enraptured by the way in which they now puckered in determined concentration as she sat across the room reading a book.  Her eyes roved over the page quickly and efficiently, indicating she was an accomplished reader.  Such ease with words was not the case for all women.  And her eyes.  They were of the brightest green, sitting perfectly proportioned under lightly coloured brows that followed the curve of her face.  Long lashes kissed her cheeks when she blinked, a detail that Thomas could scarce ignore.  

Her hair was simply styled for the morning.  The curls that framed her face were slightly askew, having been blow fervently by the wind when running.  Inadvertently, Thomas noted that Mrs. Dyer would bring her hands to the curls at regular intervals in an attempt to tame them.  Yet Thomas found her moderately disheveled appearance endearing and beautiful.  The rest of her blonde hair was tucked away neatly in a bandeau made of ribbon that extended far enough to provide as modest head covering.  The ribbon was tied in a bow just atop her head, pushing her face framing curls forward to compliment her features.

The move Thomas regarded Mrs. Dyer, the more he realized he was innerved by her very presence.  Secondary to this fact, he was also keenly aware that he had come across as quite discourteous in their last interchange.  She had simply offered him a refreshment, and he was so agitated internally that his abrupt response had been uncharacteristically rude.   Let her think ill of me, Thomas thought, perhaps it is for the better.  To frequent an exchange may put me at risk of being very much in love, and that shall never do, as she is a married woman and I am of no consequence to her.

"Remind me of the name of your aunt once more, Archer.  I should like to hear more of your life before the militia."

Thomas was pulled from his reverie by John's words.  He had been so preoccupied by his observations of Mrs. Dyer, that he had completely forgotten to respond.  Thomas pulled his eyes away from the object of his examination, and regarded John once more.

"Pardon, I am weary from my travel and should like to rest before continuing.  May I be excused for forthwith to do so?"

"Oh, why, yes," replied John. "How rude of me.  Of course you must refresh yourself.  Let me have Jennings show you to your room."

As Thomas got up to depart, he took one final glance in Mrs. Dyer's direction.  He was startled to notice that her keen and observant eyes were firmly locked on him, causing him to nearly trip as he exited the room.