Salvation of Ignorance - Chapter 6.2: Devious Admiration of Her

Salvation of Ignorance - Chapter 6.2: Devious Admiration of Her

His brows narrowed as his exposed hand began to itch. The offer had been made to entice her confession, not to receive her approval. Had Mrs. Emmons mislead him with false gossip? Now he had to calculate a way to alter her acceptance. Regardless of his distaste for the girl, he was not the sort of man to go back on his offer.

Detangling her fingers, she placed one hand in the offering at a glacial pace. The itching became more evident when the tips of her fingers grazed a hair’s length away from the result of his poor choice in dressing sans gloves. The weightlessness of her hand in his own forced him to examine the conjunction. His life seemed dependent upon avoiding a view of Peter’s features as he briskly lead this conjunction to the line of couples already forming in the ballroom.

Upon seeing the alignment thus far, an idea hatched in Niall’s head.

“I hope you are content with providing an example,” he said once the two were situated in the line.

Niall granted her some acknowledgement of wit as she observed his choice, “Um, I…I may be wrong, but I believe the head of the line is reserved for the highest rank.”

“You are correct,” Niall grinned. “But I can’t imagine anyone else present surpassing ownership of a baronetcy.”

She returned to wringing her fingers. “Owning land and holding the title are two different things.”

Niall flexed his eyebrows, as he was uncertain as to whether she was philosophizing or insulting him. “I assure you, I own both.”

A demonstration of the girl’s excellent dental health tested Niall’s restraint to aid the onset of itching in his chest.

“Oh,” She said, as if not succumbing to Niall’s attempts of terror. “You mean you’re a baron.”

Miss Barrettmore had the audacity to add a giggle. “But, I don’t understand. Mr. Talwin introduced you as ‘Mister’. Why not ‘Lord’, My Lord--Your Lord…Lord? I’m…not certain as to which one should be used. There are limited sources for practice in these parts.”

During a mediocre attempt to follow her rant, Niall’s lower lip had descended. Out of all the opportunities for her to find her voice, her timing was distasteful. The line of participants was becoming more prominent now, and his limited time to alter her own lead him to a final ultimatum.

"Why were you in the upper wings?” Niall interrupted the rampant tangent that she had allowed continued-freedom during his trail of thoughts.

Recognizing the formation of an inner curve to her lips, he continued before the repeated note could render him deaf, “As you’ve been empathetic enough to divulge my private affairs amongst my strangers, and having witnessed little yourself--.”

Niall inhaled a forced breath upon her giggle interrupting his speech.

“Having witnessed little yourself,” He continued again, “You must be familiar with what would’ve transpired in order to be so…amused by the scene."

“’Familiar’? Certainly you don’t think it…natural to be intimate with people of a particular accumulation of years.”

“You’re avoiding the point, Miss Barrettmore,” Niall scoffed his restraint of disgust at how easily she succumbed to chastising him before admitting her own short-comings. “I see you’ve admitted to recognizing the intimacy in the scene.”

“Well…you were…rather close to one another by…” She placed the tips of her fingers to her lips.

Before she could enunciate her favorite syllable, Niall quickly interrupted, “Upon our chancing in the woods today, your cheeks were reddened and you wore a gentleman’s jacket. Perhaps now you understand the sort of intimacy I speak of.”

“I assure you, I do not.” She deceitfully blushed modesty.

“I know the sort of company you keep.”

“What company do I keep?”

He was quite determined to avoid the topic of ‘The Birds and The Bees’ when she was no-doubt an expert herself, but refused to allow her an escape through ignorance. “Miss Barrettmore, you are trifling with other men while encouraging my friend’s affections.”

She gasped her slowly achieved comprehension of his accusation.

Niall watched in devious admiration of her squirming under the exposure of her secret. No friend or potential suitor could summon the excuse she required to escape this faux pas (though if they would, shame on them).

“Does…everyone think this?”

The slowly emerging grin of success withered as Niall was baffled to the first issue she wished to address. He quickly corrected himself with a reminder that this was more than likely a sign of her conceit to consider her reputation over the feelings of a tricked, love-struck fool. Another of her unfavorable charms.

“Am I to comprehend that you refuse to acknowledge your trifles?”

“There is nothing to refuse,” She said with her eyes to the right of him. “It is simply false.”

His lips formed the words ‘liar’, but the same onset of itching, that plagued him relentlessly as of late, had manifested in his throat. A dire need rose to tear his cravat from his neck and remove what infestations that the country had planted beneath his Adam’s Apple. All this the result of Miss Barrettmore’s tucked lower lip and glossed eyes being an initiative to a motion toward her innocence.

“B-besides,” Niall faintly caught her start amongst the growing airlessness. “You’re a philander. What right have you to chastise me if it were?”

“Tu quoque.”

The girl eyed him with a circular shape to her mouth, but just as he believed her to give freedom to her favorite vowel, she replied, “Calling a fallacy doesn’t necessarily nullify the argument.”

Niall scoffed, “I believe that’s the entire point of a fallacy.”

“Fine. You’re a hypocrite who finds warmth in the beds of hags.”

The weight of the eyes of the newly situated couple to the side of them became very apparent to Niall. Of certainty, the two would be more inclined to judge the easily satisfied man over the chit who could not curb her ill-timed, vulgar tongue.

He saw scarlet before they blotched Miss Barrettmore’s cheeks. She began to cower behind worm-like fingers while investing a glance toward the musical providers for this evening.

“Perhaps it would be best if I sit this one out,” She offered in mid-curtsy.

Fifteen minutes ago, he would’ve been delighted to see her awkward retreat to the comforts of her mother-hen of a friend, but fifteen minutes ago, he had been lenient in believing her possible slaughter to his reputation was from ignorance of the harm it may cause.

However, fifteen minutes had passed and, in such time, she had willfully slighted him before his face. She still was a witless mute, but she held enough awareness as to how to inflict harm. That was all the justification he needed to relinquish his seething fury.

“On the contrary, Miss Barrettmore. I’ve yet to see you as lively as this night. Allow me to be the first to break in your dancing shoes.”

The music began in the midst of his sentence and interrupting her curtsy. After completing his required bow of initiation, he found that Miss Barrettmore was in much the same state as she was prior to his upper body rotation: lower jaw skewed backwards and eyes of a deer. Detaching one of her hands from scrunching the material of her printed gown, he alighted her into step before separating to commence the initial cast off.

Upon his return, he found that his partner had disappeared during the dance’s allotted separation. A disappointing frown emerged from his lips at her early escape while he was left unsatisfied of fulfilling his duty to invoke her karma. The frown was corrected upon further investigation revealing that not only had she not fled, but she had lost herself amongst her position two dancers down, rather than returning after the cast off.

He mentally apologize for ever doubting Mrs. Emmons skill in gossip.

Niall chose to improvise with a solo lead down the middle to retrieve his partner. Miss Barrettmore’s eyes widened past his expectations when he offered his hand, due to the dance’s requirements, but she continued to embarrass herself further by shrinking away. Forcing their conjunction, he attempted to return them to their spot in step, but was slowed down by the chit’s stumbling, despite the simplicity of the step.

Needless to say, she neglected to participate in the next cast off into second place. So, after completing his, he directed her into the allemande. Glancing in the distance, he contemplated whether the karma being executed was hers alone at this point. Suddenly, his attentions were brought to the floor.

“Yes, madam, that is my foot. Three physicals should be sufficient.”

“I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Apparently she couldn’t utter her sympathies without ceasing motion, therein providing an additional physical.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he positioned her in second place before retreating to his place across from her. As their group circled, and Miss Barrettmore at a safe distance from his digits, Niall reasoned that it was more advantageous for him to retreat from this spectacle.

As the new lead was established, he made quick work to say what he had left to address, “Miss Barrettmore, in the future, if you should be enlightened to the personal matters of another, I would advise you to shelter the information. In fact, I had intended to do so with your dance credentials.”

“Wait, you knew--!?”

“Out of respect for my friend, and as reconciliation for now--.”

“Wait, hold on a second!”

A grunt was heard from her side when they were required to step once more.

“I shall be happy to keep your fidelity a secret.”

“There is no fi--please, could we just…dance?” She whined.

“But I’ll warn you not to pursue them further if you have any interest in my friend.”

Niall made a swift bow and retreated just seconds before the group began to circle once more. Making quick work to locate the nearest door, he began to distance himself from the room and prayed that the party lived like an amaranth. An empty house with Peter would be second in tolerability only to Miss Barrettmore’s dancing.