Post by MISS CAROLINE BINGLEY on Jun 18, 2013 7:06:50 GMT -5
{Tag: Nicholas Goulding}
It could have been charming to be given to drink.
Naturally, the practice was abominable to Caroline – as were all things that were abominable to good society – but were it not, it could have been charming to be given to drink. She had heard the most remarkable things about what one could forget under its influences and – if her sources were reputable, which she believed them to be, given their closeness of relation – she could do well this evening to forget a great many things. Of course, she bore it with superior grace, her purveyance of the assembly going never beyond what was necessary, but never once slipping beneath that obligation and she had already bettered it infinitely at having stood up for the third with Darcy.
That she had stood up for the second with Sir William Lucas was a truth that could be overlooked.
She noticed that her wine was sinking suddenly dangerously low and since bowing out of a dance on this particular occasion seemed to be more favour than faux pas - not to mention the fact that serving boys seemed so thin on the ground she half wondered if someone had kept them all at bay to see if the resulting thirst would drive some vicious native to brawling – she moved from the relative safety of her corner of the room towards finding some. If she had needed another indication that Hertfordshire was well beneath their needs, in society if not in land, then the fact that she must tend to herself was most certainly sufficient.
She was all but snarling by the time she reached a condescending glove to tap a serviceman on the shoulder. That she must get his attention was truly unforgiveable. She was rather more accustomed to having her glass disappear and then reappear as though a part of some illusionist act. As he turned, she smiled with little effort at concealment of her contempt before turning her head to look away from him distractedly, “If it is not too much, might I trouble you for a little extra wine? Or is the kitchen not used to hosting such - opulence?”
It was of her nature that she tended to speak her mind to those for whose opinion she did not care, so that she should slight her new neighbourhood so profoundly was not unusual, given that the right ears could be sure not to hear it.
For any ears that listened to this man’s story, were certainly not the right ones.
