An Assembly Such as This by Pamela Aidan Read Free Book Online Page B

shake of his head. Meeting with such little opposition to her comments seemed to encourage Miss Bingley to think that her observations and opinions were shared by the company about the table. Mrs. Hurst, of course, echoed or embellished her sister’s sentiments, each inspiring the other to new heights of criticism and ridicule.
    “Now, Louisa, that is too cruel!” Miss Bingley gave her sister’s hand a small slap. Mrs. Hurst protested contrition until her sister continued slyly, “I counted only
two
chins on the lady, but then I did not have the felicity of seeing her sitting down, as you did.” Mrs. Hurst let out a small shriek, covering her mouth with her hand while Miss Bingley settled back in her chair with an ill-concealed smirk. “Really, these country folk are not very entertaining.” She glanced covertly at Darcy. “It was all horses and hunting with the gentlemen. And the ladies! Not a one could speak of current fashion or had even the slightest acquaintance with the theater! Poetry is likely as unknown a language here as is Italian,” she concluded with an arch smile in Darcy’s direction. Mrs. Hurst giggled obligingly, but his lack of response appeared to decide her upon a more sober course.
    “Charles, I have chosen to accept three particular invitations to dine and one afternoon social during this next week. Please oblige me by making room in your schedule for them.”
    “May I ask, dear sister, where we are engaged?” Bingley templed his fingers and rested his chin on his thumbs as he turned and winked at Darcy.
    “Wednesday night with Squire Justin, Thursday with Mr. and Mrs. King. They are accounted quite prominent and are said to be worth three thousand a year, if you can imagine! Friday we dine with Colonel Forster and his wife. Do you suppose the woman laughs so on purpose, Louisa, or am I the only one put in mind of a donkey?” At each name Bingley sank a little lower in his chair, and when the colonel’s name was mentioned, he looked to have given up hope. “…and Saturday evening at Sir William Lucas’s.” Miss Bingley ticked off the last name on her list and looked up to see her brother brighten considerably. “Is this acceptable, Charles?”
    “I leave the social aspect of the campaign in your capable hands, Caroline. I request only that you leave me some time for more gentlemanly pursuits and that you plan on attending services while we are here. Regularly,” he added, with a look which communicated that he would brook no objections.
    Miss Bingley’s eyes flew involuntarily to Darcy, whose return of her regard was the picture of blandness. “Of course, Charles. That goes without question, as you well know.”
    “Now,” said Bingley, capitalizing on the success of his demand and the disorder into which it had cast his sister, “I wish to observe that the morning went splendidly. Caroline, you are to be congratulated.” Miss Bingley demurred sweetly. “I have no doubt that our Morning In will be the subject of much conversation and that we are well launched into Hertfordshire society.” He allowed his sister her opportunity to disclaim her achievement, however briefly, and proceeded with determination. “You must know that I have proposed a shooting party for tomorrow morning and expect that six or more gentlemen will come. If you will arrange the breakfast and notify the household staff, I will endeavor to alert the stablemaster, groundsman, and gamekeeper of our plans.” Bingley’s fingers tapped the arms of his chair at each detail, his face flushed with the delight of having his own estate to order as he wished. “It will be my turn tomorrow, my dear sisters, to advance beyond the ground you have taken today.”
    During the ensuing rush of questions, admonitions, and assurances between Bingley and his sisters, Darcy withdrew into himself. He had noted his friend’s despair at not hearing a particular name in his sister’s list of social engagements and,