Page 27 of Ashes and Understanding
“I required fresh air.”
Her expression changed into one of sympathetic disapproval. “Oh, yes, I understand. Howintolerableit was in there. Socrowded,sostifling.I truly cannot imagine how anyone endures such an event.” She let out a delicate sign. “But of course, Charles absolutelyinsistedon attending, though I know not why.”
Bingley chuckled, unbothered. “I found it delightful. So many pretty ladies—several of them were uncommonly pretty.”
Miss Bingley sniffed. “You are far too good-natured, Charles; always insisting on seeing the best in everyoneand everything.” She shot Darcy a sidelong glance. “I daresay Mr. Darcy did not enjoy it in the least.”
“I found it to be lively.” Darcy’s tone was emotionless.
Mrs. Hurst lifted her chin. “It was overwhelming. The smell alone was unbearable—sweat, smoke from the tallow candles, and cheap perfume. Ghastly.”
“Shall we go?” Bingley asked, attempting to change the conversation.
The group made their way to the front, the driver waiting for them outside. As soon as they all entered the carriage, however, the ladies’ chosen topic was once again at the forefront.
“I do so despise attending a public ball,” Miss Bingley complained. “They allowallsorts in—merchants and tradesmen, even attorneys—to mingle with the local country gentry. Quite savage.”
“And the fashion!” Mrs. Hurst shook her head with dismay. “Did you see those gowns? I counted at least three young women wearing styles that were from at least two years ago.”
“I countedfive,” Miss Bingley replied smugly.
Mrs. Hurst pressed a hand to her chest as if wounded. “If one cannot dress properly, then one should not attend at all.”
“Little wonder poor Mr. Darcy sought fresh air outside.” Miss Bingley cloying tones gave Darcy a headache. “To be breathing such thick, plebeian air—had I thought of the idea myself, I should have joined you in the hall.”
Darcy shuddered, doing his best to mask his feelings. The very the idea of Miss Bingley being the one to discover him instead of Elizabeth was repugnant.
Mrs. Hurst, who had followed her siblings from the room on her husband’s arm sighed. “I do not know why Charles insists on these little excursions into the country. The company is so much better in town, is that not right, my dear?”
Mr. Hurst, barely paying attention, let out a lazy grunt of agreement.
Miss Bingley scoffed. “Naturally! The right people attend private gatherings. But these public assemblies? Anyone may come. And anyone does.” She shuddered theatrically. “It was oppressive, really.”
Louisa nodded sagely. “And the conversation was even worse.”
“Indeed! I had to endure the dullest discussion about farming, of all things! Do they truly have nothing better to speak of?”
Mrs. Hurst made a face. “You think that was dreadful? I was accosted by some old woman who prattled on about pickling for nearly half an hour.”
Darcy barely heard them. His thoughts were still back in the corridor, with Elizabeth Bennet offering him an herbal remedy from her own purse.
Miss Bingley prattled on, oblivious. “And do not even speak to me of the gentlemen. Did you see some of those men? Coarse hands, thick accents—ugh! Why, I nearly expected to see one of them attempt a jig in the middle of the ballroom.”
Louisa let out a quiet laugh. “Did you see the woman who tripped on the hem of her own gown? She landed directly into her partner’s arms. I was mortified on her behalf.”
“It was exactly as I feared,” Miss Bingley continued with a sigh. “When one allows the lesser classes to mingle freely, one simply must expect such vulgarity.”
Bingley rolled his eyes. “Caroline, you enjoyed yourself well enough. I saw you speaking quite pleasantly to Miss Bennet.”
Miss Bingley stiffened but quickly recovered. “Oh, well, she is—mildly agreeable. But even she is far too tolerant of her dreadful family. I suppose she’s the best that the country can offer, but were I to see her in London, I daresay I would not give her the time of day.”
“Precisely, Caroline.” Mrs. Hurst nodded emphatically. “At least in town, one may be selective about with whom one associates. It is hardly our fault if the standard of company is lacking.”
Miss Bingley turned back to Darcy, her voice shifting to something more honeyed. “You must admit, Mr. Darcy, that an event in town would have been far more enjoyable?”
Darcy let the silence stretch long enough that she began to fidget. Then, in a flat voice, he replied, “I do not much care for dancing, whether in town or in the country.”
This set Miss Bingley on a string of assurances that she agreed with him, and how their thoughts were always in perfect harmony. She declared it to be remarkable but understandable, as they were such close friends.
