Before long, the entire ballroom at Eagleton Manor was brimming with a sea of fine muslin, silk, embroidery and ribbon.  Luckily, men also attended in full form and Amelia hoped very few would be left in want of a partner once the dancing commenced.   The level of finery on display spoke to the utmost respect that the guests had for the Dyer family.   Perhaps it also spoke to the wishes of each family to secure eligible suitors for their young women before they became too preoccupied with the hunting season to pursue young burds in petticoats and lace. 

Each guest paid their respects kindly as Amelia greeted them by the entrance of the ballroom.  Many remarked on the diligent attention to detail that must have transpired in planning the evening, and more still pronounced the welcoming atmosphere the most pleasant Eagleton Manor has ever seen.  The weight of such a heavy compliment did not escape Amelia, and she was pleased to receive it. Kind praise became the catalyst in transforming any remaining trepidation into merriment. 

Amelia also was pleased to note that John was taking his role as host earnestly.  He gallantly circulated about the room, politely welcoming the guests and making necessary introductions.  Much attention was paid to ensure that all the young men were introduced to the young women so that partners may be reserved for dancing.  All ladies should dance lest the room become full of wall-flowers, and their presence clash with the drapery.  Furthermore, one could not have unreasonable delay in commencing the anticipated amusement.  Such a scandal would cause the young dancers to lose self-complacency and cast a reflection of dullness upon the soirée.

Mr. Archer appeared in the most affable light, and seemed to be gratified with the introductions afforded to him by both John and her own family.  Lottie had taken a particular delight in ensuring that Mr. Archer was introduced to all the most eligible young ladies.  Had Amelia less sense, she would find herself bristling at her dear sister's forceful presentation of Mr. Archer as such a ready bachelor.  She had no doubt that many a fine young lady would soon set her cap at him based on his handsome looks.  Should he secure a feather to fly with, he may soon find himself flocking to the altar. 

Yet, Amelia suspected that Mr. Archer would not be so willing to fall into the trap of a gilded cage for just any tempting armful.  There was something in his studied countenance that belied an emotional intelligence that was uncanny to any other man she had met at this point in her life.  He is not easily swayed by a pretty face or a lacy petticoat, she thought, rather he need a strong woman who knows her mind.  I shall be all astonishment should anything less than a bluestocking tempt him.

Amelia's cogitation was interrupted as the musicians began to play the prelude to the minuet.  Amelia caught John's eye from across the room and he swiftly moved through the crowd to join his wife.  Taking her left hand gently in his, John squeezed it covertly as he guided her to the center of the dance floor.  All eyes were on the Maître and Maîtress du bal  as they paid honours to their audience, then faced each other to commence the dance.  Never before had Amelia taking on the role of principle couple in such an exhibitory dance, and the scrutiny inflicted in that very moment might have made a lesser woman balk.  However, Amelia showed no fear as the dulcet tones of The Devonshire Minuet began to play.

John and Amelia were knowingly calm as they had shared a dancing master for many years, and they had memorized many complicated steps together in their youth.  Practice that began as youthful folly had tempered and became more seasoned over time.  As their affections for each other grew, their dancing lessons had become some of their most cherished interactions.  Gazing into John's eyes, Amelia felt confident that those hours of prolonged and careful study would guide her feet in exacting the graceful steps.  Amelia lifted the train of her gown and began to dance.

Dainty footfalls and glides, stately movements to the right and left, forward and backwards were performed with grace and elegance.  Pas de menuet and contretemps, rhythmically rising and falling with each bar of music.  Both Amelia and John lightly crossed the floor on the balls of their feet, expertly effectuating the sequences they had been taught.  Rounded arm movements allowed them to touch hands, first the right, then the left, ebbing and flowing within the structure of the dance, skimmed shoulders as they passed one another.  Their cheeks became bright with effort as the dance evolved to a series of quick steps and complicated footwork. Both Amelia and John performed beautifully, engaging the rapture of their audience, before finally grasping both hands together in the final figure. 

As the dance concluded, John once again compresses Amelia's hand within his, evoking the gesture with pregnant meaning.  From there, he escorted his wife from the dance floor to resume her gracious attentions to the non-dancing guests.  The orchestra was already playing La Belle Assemblée March to signal the guests to take their positions for the first country dance.  Lottie and Mr. Curtis took the position of first couple, performing the skipping steps with alacrity.  As they progressed down, the next couple in the set commenced and so forth until all couples were dancing. 

The assembly soon became lively as the vitality and zeal of the dancers filled the ballroom.  Even the older guests could be seen full of mirth, cheerfulness and good humour as they milled about the room.  Refreshments of ices, lemonade, and small rout cakes were passed about by the footmen at regular intervals, and were well received by all.  Amelia contrived to speak to most guests, enjoying the praise and commendations of each.  Even Sir William Baldwood confessed that the evening rivaled some of his favourite memories at Court.

Amelia reserved very little opportunities for herself to join in the vigorous dancing, although it was a cherished pastime.  It would be considered impudent for the lady of the house to take up a partner if there were others in want of one.  Though Amelia was also keenly aware that etiquette dictated that should a gentleman approach and ask her to dance, she could not decline.  Such an affront would be considered the utmost impertinence, and additionally she would be forced to sit out the rest of the night! 

Amelia was enjoying a quick moment of repose at the edge of the room.  She was thankful for her fan, as the temperate atmosphere in the room was rising quickly with the spirited dancing and the warmth of the candles.  As a footman approached, Amelia took an ice from his tray and delightfully placed a bite on her tongue.  She closed her eyes and relished the taste of orange flowers swirling across her taste buds.  It reminded her of sunshine, carriage rides, and stops to Gunter's Tea Shop in Berkley Square while in town. 

When Amelia opened her eyes, she was astonished to find Mr. Archer standing before her.  She could not deny that dancing had brightened his countenance, setting his azure eyes alight and removing the pallor from his cheeks.  His eyes were locked on her pouted lips as she struggled to surreptitiously swallow the last of her tasty morsel.  Registering that Amelia was cognizant of this gaffe, he immediately dropped his gaze and bowed deeply in her direction.

"Mrs. Dyer, I was wondering if you would do me the honour of dancing the next set with me."

Amelia returned his salutation with a slight bow of her own shoulders.  "I am not otherwise engaged, Mr. Archer.  Though, as a married woman I am far out of practice of dancing reels and beg your forgiveness should I trample upon your person."

"Nay, madame, it is I who fears I might trespass too heavily on your magnanimous generosity.  Your graceful figures have been much admired this evening, and I shall seem clumsy in comparison."

"Let us both stumble through as best we can," replied Amelia with a polite smile.  Mr. Archer then carefully guided her to the dance floor, using only his finger tips. It seemed he was reticent to fully grasp her hand, and Amelia thought it curious. I am sure he has not treated all young ladies like porcelain this evening, she thought. Am I made of too strong a mettle for him that he must treat me with such trepidation?

Amelia pushed her reservations aside and followed her companion to the dance floor. They took their places opposite each other at the top of the line of couples. As Scotch Bonnet began to play, they politely bowed to signal the start of the dance. First they began the set, a pas de basque, towards their neighbours. Quick and fancy movements such as these, performed on the balls of her feet and interlaced with jetés, were some of Amelia's favourites. She performed the set seamlessly. Amelia then joined hands with the lady in second positions, changing sides to repeat the steps before returning to her original position. She felt Mr. Archer's eyes transfixed on her every movement, causing her cheeks to flush.

Refusing the be vexed by his perceived attention, Amelia held his steady gaze as she joined her hands in his for the next part of the dance. She expected her impertinence to cause him to shy away, but rather it seemed that Mr. Archer was both emboldened and invigorated by the dance. He gripped her fingers firmly, in a manner so juxtaposed to his previous actions, that Amelia was surprised. As they turned to slip down the middle of the line, their shoulders touched and a sudden heat transpired between them, the likes of which Amelia had never felt before.

Lud! What on earth? thought Amelia as she practically stumbled through her next set of foot falls. Amelia strove to regain her composure, as she could not disgrace herself so publicly by losing her gracefulness. Such shame would come upon her. Furthermore, it would draw attention to what simply must have been an innocuous outcome from the vigorous exercise of the reel.  However, Amelia was forced to quickly dismiss this conclusion as she espied Mr. Archer's face once she returned to the second position. His eyes were wide as they looked in her direction before dropping to trace the floor.

The dance now called for them to circle around the middle. Mr. Archer managed to compose himself and moved towards Amelia fluidly despite his gaze remaining lowered. However, touch could not be avoided during the turn, once again sending heat through Amelia's fingers towards her very core. Mr. Archer slowly raised his eyes to meet hers, and Amelia's breath expired within her throat. Similarly, Mr. Archer inhaled forcefully before releasing her hands.

Rhythmically moving to swing the first corner, Amelia wished for her fan. She wanted so desperately to hide her discomfiture or for the dance to be shortened. How could she bear such frissons which maintaining the delicate comportment required of her?  Yet, a small element of her core had its curiosity piqued by this strange new development. What could it possibly mean? Even in her most passionate moments with John, she had not felt such staggering impulses. They set her skin alight and her heart aflutter.

As she returned to circle with Mr. Archer once more, she noted that his hands were shaking slightly as they held onto her arms and sides. Amelia chose to set his nerves at ease, and pressed his hand firmly. This tender motion stilled his hands, and Mr. Archer and Amelia continued the dance with a new, yet unspoken, understanding.