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2014-04-17 06:21 pm (UTC)
It's unladylike of Amelia to wonder, but she can't help the fleeting thought that maybe some trickster had taken it upon themselves to spike the punch - she wouldn't mind if they
, as anything to make her forget how dreadful these soirees could be would be nothing short of a miracle. She sighs, following along, keeping her voice down, even though she's certain that nobody is bothering to try to listen in to their conversation. "That man is absolutely a pig."
And then, he's taken his place in order to block her from the Duke's view, and she's grateful for the gesture. This was far more interesting and pleasing a conversation than anything the Duke would speak about. And that's not taking into the account the fact that he'd be speaking to her chest, rather than to
"I can't imagine that they're truly happy. They have to know, on some level, that all of this means nothing."
Amelia smiles at anyone who looks her way, raising an eyebrow as she ponders the question. "He always looks at me as though I'm nothing more than a ... a piece of meat. Not even as a prize to be won. I despise the man."
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