Dignity and Depravity

Chapter XIII

Amelia's nerves were aflutter the closer the hour of the ball drew near. The grand clock in the entry way seemed to tick in time with the beating of her heart. The responsibility of presenting as mistress of a ball for the first time still weighed heavily upon her chest.  Amelia's disconcertment was magnified by lingering thoughts of Mr. Archer's fine blue eyes trespassing on her awareness.  She had hoped that the vision would be of little consequence, one that could be reposed and dismissed as an intellectual accident. It is simply a faulty impression, Amelia thought uneasily, explained by the fact that Mr. Archer was the last gentleman with whom I have conversed today.  And with that resolution, she pushed her consternation aside to focus on the ball.

Amelia had chosen to partake of a small repast before quitting her chamber lest she feel faint while welcoming the guests. The cold collation of meats, cheeses and fruit now felt heavy in her stomach, and was churning unpleasantly amid her apprehensions. I shall seek out a glass of wine to settle my present ailment, she thought. I would not behoove me to present myself as mistress of the water closet instead of mistress of Eagleton Manor. Requesting a glass from her regular footman, Amelia took a last turn about the ball room, being careful not to disrupt the chaulked floor. She sipped her glass gingerly, noting that everything was in proper order.

The mantle clock marked eight thirty as Amelia finished her glass. Her last task was to ensure the additional footman that had been engaged solely for the evening were given the proper livery.  Amelia was please to find each smartly pressed uniform already in action.  One footman was already stationed outside the ballroom. Amelia espied a second near the balustrade, mid-way between the front entrance and the ballroom. He was meant to direct the guests towards the dancing or towards the prepared upper chambers as needed. A third footman was stationed at the front entrance and taking final directions from Jennings.

The butler turned to face his mistress and bowed deeply. "I trust that everything is prepared as per your direction, Madame."

"Yes, thank you. It has been executed excellently. Please send my gratitude towards the household members."

"It is our pleasure," replied Jennings. "May I take your glass, Madame?"

"Yes, please." Amelia placed her empty wine glass in his white gloved hand, and he bowed deeply before dismissing himself.

As Amelia made her way back towards the ballroom she felt a strong set of hands grip her by the waist. They pulled her towards an alcove in the hall, away from the prying eyes of the servants. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt a warm expiration exciting the back of her neck.

"You look ravishing, darling," said a familiar voice.

"John", Amelia replied, breathless. "To what do I owe such wanton attention? It's so utterly risqué!"

"Others may best admire your figure from afar, my love, but knowing that only I may adjoin you in such close proximity made impossible to withstand my compunction to have you in my arms."

"My dearest, I long for you handle the many folds of my physique, yet now is not the time. Our guests will arrive imminently."

A low growl erupted from John's throat as he traced the lace of Amelia's low-lying collar with the tip of his forefinger.

"Send them all away! Extinguish the candles, turn away the carriages!"

"Oh that we could, my love. We have the minuet, and our bodies shall move in time together. As the bard said, palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do," replied John, placing his lips so near to Amelia's that she could feel the reverberations of his voice against her skin.