Dignity and Depravity

Chapter XV

Amelia was exceedingly diverted by reeling about the ballroom.  No longer disquieted by the flourish of veiled fervency that had occurred between herself and Mr. Archer, she luxuriated in the amusement.  Dancing had remained one of her most cherished diversions, and she was excessively pleased with the vigor in her step spurned on by Mr. Archer's new found ease.  Amelia was just rounding the final turn when she noted a precise ritardando was indicating the end of the song.  Smiling, she came to her final position and bowed in Mr. Archer's direction.  Amelia was please to note that he was equally as invigorated, and jocularly returned her salutation. 

Mr. Archer freely offered his hand and Amelia gratefully accepted it, as they walked off the dance floor.  Amelia steadied her expression to one of polite amusement and glanced in Mr. Archer's direction subtly.  Gone was the hint of any small merriment they may have shared.  Rather, his manner was one of blithe indifference.  It was in such contrast to moments ago, that Amelia felt a crimson bloom bud across the tops of her cheeks.  Had she imagined the connection?  And even if she had, it was pure folly to be nettled by a mercurial countenance, especially when it did not belong to her husband.

Considering the best option for a deferential and ladylike means of thanking him for the dance without betraying her current discomposure, Amelia let Mr. Archer quietly guide her towards her family.  Yet, just as he was about to conclude the interaction with a bow, the stentorian voice of the butler broke through the din to announce dinner.  Amelia silently chastised herself for not having kept better track of the hour, as she would now be forced to be accompanied to the table by Mr. Archer.  Though, not even the lusty chiming of the large long-case clock in the foyer could have pierced through the wonderful hubbub that had settled over the ball.  How undesirous a predicament, thought Amelia.  Though, even Mr. Archer must concede that the tight-lipped state of his now taciturn expression is not conducive to dining.

At the same moment, Thomas was all astonishment.  His heart was quaking in the aftermath of his shared experience.  Could Mrs. Dyer, Amelia, truly have felt it too?  he thought.  I have never felt more envious of Mr. Dyer at this moment and as Socrates predicted it shall be an ulcer on my soul.  Thomas then concluded in that very moment that he must distance himself from Mrs. Dyer for the rest of the evening, lest this viridescent nature become apparent to anyone else.  He used his well-trained military mind and placed a neutral expression upon his face.  The fleeting pained look in Amelia's eyes he had glimpsed nearly disintegrated his resolve, but he was determined to show no particular affection towards her in the presence of her family.

Amelia's sister Lottie had been observing this entire interaction, and as dinner was announced she glanced at her sister.  Amelia's cheeks were flushed, but her expression was aggrieved.  Lottie had been convinced of Mr. Acher's partiality towards her sister from the instant they had met, but could it be that her sister was also showing the signs of the same affliction?  Lottie was determined to find a private moment to speak to her sister.  They had always been the closest companions and bedfellows.  Lottie knew that if she inquired in the correct manor, her sister would reveal her inner most thoughts.  However, at this very moment, it was of the utmost import that Lottie prevent her Friday-faced sister from being set down by the idle chatter and bandy words.

"Sister, I am looking forward to dining on the delicacies you have described for this evening's victuals.  Shall we delay no further and head to the dining room?"

"Yes, certainly, sister.  I believe you shall not be disappointed," replied Amelia, recovering her composure.  "I am afraid civil dictates state I must trespass on your kindness a little longer, Mr. Archer," she continued in a more clipped manner.

A flash of ruefulness traveled through Thomas as he noted Amelia's cool demeanor.  Nevertheless, he extended his arm politely in her direction, and she took it.  Likewise, Lottie clasped the arm of her own escort, and follow suit in direction of the dining room.  The throng of ball attendees were all jockeying for spot at the tables.  Many of them were a trifle disguised, and probably thankful for the meal.  Though, in his experience, Thomas knew that most guests would only imbibe further as they indulged in the feast.  Reddened cheeks from dancing would soon he complimented by reddened noses.