Kingdom in The Sand

Marie-Fey

Miss Ramsey was completely sloshed.

She let out a shriek of laughter, made to sit and missed her chair, falling to the ground with a dramatic spiral of arms and hoop skirts, the others at the dinner party – whose drunken states weren't far behind – roaring with laughter.

She let out an unladylike howl of despair and Mr. Goddard came to her rescue, his gallant actions overshadowed by the fact that he used the excuse to feel her bust – which was greatly exaggerated by her mercilessly tight corset, so possibly he hadn't meant to fondle her and simply didn't have anywhere else to grab.

Her new dress certainly made her... ample.

The scene just received another barrage of laughter and more champagne was poured.

Marie-Fey held a delicate have over her glass to indicate she didn't need a top-up from the passing servants.

"Oh, come on, Fey!" one of the men shouted across the sweeping dining room table, "You can't be finished already! You're barely even tipsy!"

"Married life has changed her hideously!" cried one of the ladies with a dramatic sigh, "No more fun for our Marie-Fey Leigh!"

"I bet she has all the fun she can handle back into that exotic land she calls home now," another lady sneered.

Marie-Fey's cool blue eyes rose to meet Lady Lashby who was trying her damndest to give her a condescending look over her pig nose.

"Oh yes! Tell us, Fey!" some of the leering gentlemen cheered, "regale us with tales of your dessert land! Come on, share! We want to hear all about those harems! What do you wear when back home? Those illustrations in all the books would suggest you'd look ravishing."

"Any lady would look ravishing when there's no article of clothing to stop of man ravishing her!" someone jeered, and the table roared with laughter.

"Are you suggesting I am not ravishing to look at in the finery I wear tonight?" Marie-Fey asked calmly, long slender fingers drifting across her chest, just under her collar bone to play with the spectacular diamond necklace she wore, drawing all eyes on the table to that single location which was hemmed by the handstitched lace of her dress's low neckline.

"No, no, of course not. Who in this wide world does not consider the Leigh Ladies the finest in the land?" the man corrected as he tried to drag his eyes back to her face.

"Her husband, apparently," Lady Lashby put in, "Tell us, Marie-Fey. Have you had the pleasure of his company yet?"

"Hah, what's a man need to bother his wife for when he has a building full of beauty's throwing themselves at his feet?"

Marie-Fey sighed.

"Marie, Marie," someone else called, "Do you own a peacock? Or ride camels!"

"How about some dancing?' Marie-Fey called instead and the entire table erupted in agreement, launching from their seats to tumble into the dance room where the musicians scrambled to get their instruments ready as the gallery of drunkards fell into a reel... or at least something that resembled a reel.

Marie-Fey rose from her seat, throwing back the last of her champagne and gliding into the room to watch.

How was it that just a couple of years ago she would have been one these people, delighting in endlessly flowing drinks and wild company?

She missed those days.

Maybe it was nothing but knowing she'd be returning home that was leaving her in a state of melancholy.