Mind Your Manners (closed for wrterlogan)

Agnes had continued to droll on and on about her many 'friends' and how she was so excited to see so many of them for these types of parties. Silas had tried to formal a mental map of how all of the young ladies were intertwined but realized that Agnes' own words muddled the picture so fully that he almost believed that everything she told him was a complete world of fiction. It was almost as if Agnes lived in a dream world and was unable to understand or grasp the true workings of the world. She would forever be immune to the effects of good company.

Mercifully, the song finally ended and he was able after a few moments of protestation disengage himself from the dancefloor. He knew that many would consider it an absolute lack of manners to depart so quickly but he was able to fake a fair amount of fatigue and would be forgiven by all but the most slavish to good form. He bowed to several of the more important players before finding himself a secluded corner of the room.

Edmund had been talking to Isobel, that could be a problem. For all his good points, Ed was almost useless when it came to women it was as if every good sense in his body decided to vacate as soon as a fair creature came into view. Yes, his heart pined for Agnes but he would likely fall under anyone's spell if given half the chance. He was quite consistent in that regard. Silas should begin to expect less of him in these situations or be careful about who he talked to. Most of the girls here were more than content with his banter but should one or two of them begin to press him for details, his instincts might grip him and undo months of work. Marsten was one such creature.

The Cow and her mother passed him and for a moment all else was forgotten. With every fiber of his being, Silas hoped that she would meet a navy captain soon and fall under his sway. India might be just the sort of location that would suit her and it would certainly lift her cloud from these gatherings. If her mother wasn't so influential, he would have taken her to task before now but as it was nothing could be done. For her part, the Lady was sure to keep her daughter away from him if at all possible. He allowed them to put a fair distance away from him before moving again this time searching out Ed.

The party was beginning to enter its droll phase. This was when Edmund would likely pull out some of his older material to be reused while everyone else recovered from dancing. If he could find him quickly, they might be able to have a quick chat about how to talk to girls. Then again, Silas might have to skip that conversation entirely and advise him on complete silence until further notice, it would be quicker and save the rest of the partygoers. If only he could charge a savior's fee.

Goulding clasped Isobel's hand in his and they began to dance. Couples were already leaving the floor, slowly, but the room was still full, and Isobel had to be careful with her skirts as they circled. Isobel looked around for Jane and William Montclair, but they were nowhere to be seen.

“This is boring,” Goulding remarked, blinking his eyes sleepily, like a turtle. His lanky frame nearly swallowed hers as they moved across the floor, and Isobel had to crane her neck to see over his shoulder. Mr. Marby had retired to a corner, watching the floor closely, and as they danced past, she caught his eye. She gave him a pert look and he looked right back at her, his dark eyes following her. He was so handsome, she had to turn her head to hide the blush that bloomed in her cheeks.

“Only boring people are bored, Mr. Upworth,” she remarked, adjusting her hand in his.

“What?” he asked lazily, and she shrugged her shoulders. He looked down at her, his blond hair falling over his forehead, and squinted. “You're very pretty, Isobel,” he said.

She tilted her head up at him and smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Mr. Upworth, so are you.” He blinked at her stupidly.

“What?” he said again.

You're pretty, Isobel thought, like a very large and stupid girl.

He kept peering at her dully, and she shrugged. The music mercifully ended and Isobel disengaged her hand from his and practically ran to the couch where Mary Fordyce sat.

“Are you all right, Isobel?” Mary asked her, and she nodded.

“Yes, yes,” she said. She lifted a hand to her forehead. “Just – the dancing.”

Across the room, Agnes was talking to Catherine Hortence, and Edmund had moved to join Mr. Marby in a quiet corner.

“Oh, yes,” Agnes was saying. “Let's ask Mr. Marby to recite.”

Silas had only begun to question his friend in earnest about his conversation with Miss Marsten when he heard familiar murmurings for him to recite a poem or two for them. Of all the times! He was just about ready to fake a malady that would prevent him from speaking clearly when he noticed all of the eager faces. It was one thing to turn down a couple of the more childish partygoers but would be harder if he faced larger scrutiny.

He first appealed to Goulding, "I'm sure there must be more exciting things for this party than to hear some of my words. Poor Edmund here has probably heard them so many times that he could recite them as a school lesson."

Immediately, Silas regretted even mentioning Ed in the conversation. He did not want someone jokingly taking him up on his offer: both men would look like fools. Instead he hoped that someone, anyone would find a better topic or notion to pursue. At this point, gossip would even be a welcome change.