CHAPTER SIX
THE brEAKFAST PARLOUR at Pemberley was already well filled when the Bennets and Gardiners were shown in. The table gleamed with silver and china, the air carried the warm scents of coffee and fresh bread, and servants moved quietly about refilling cups and plates.
Darcy rose at once. “Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennets — allow me to present my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and my cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh.”
Lady Catherine inclined her head with stately gravity.
“So, these are the guests of whom I heard last night. When my dinner was brought up, the servants mentioned that Darcy had new people staying at Pemberley. I wondered whom he had thought proper to receive. I do not, as a rule, approve a full house unless the occasion is a ball.”
Having thus expressed her disapproval of the party’s size, she bestowed her formal notice. “Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.” Her eyes travelled over Jane, then Elizabeth, then the younger sisters. “Miss Bennets. Miss Elizabeth. It is some time since we last met.”
“It has been some time, your ladyship,” Elizabeth replied, keeping her tone even.
Anne de Bourgh dipped her head shyly, scarcely raising her eyes.
Darcy motioned toward the chairs. “Pray, be seated where you find comfort.”
Lady Catherine gave a sharp sniff. “Comfort is of little consequence at a gentleman’s table. What is required is order. A house such as Pemberley ought never descend into informality.”
"I have always found that a little informality at breakfast does wonders for the digestion. Order, I fear, can be rather indigestible so early in the day." Mr Bennet observed mildly.
Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed. "I fail to see the humor in laxity, Mr Bennet. Standards must be maintained in every aspect of a great house."
Darcy answered with polite firmness. “It is breakfast, madam, not a formal dinner. Our guests may place themselves as they please.”
Lady Catherine looked decidedly affronted, yet she could hardly dispute the master of the house. Her jaw tightened as she gave a stiff nod, the feathers in her turban quivering with silent disapproval.
Only once the new arrivals had settled and their meals were being served did her gaze fix sharply upon Elizabeth. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I trust you have not forgotten the counsel I bestowed upon you during your stay at Hunsford."
Elizabeth inclined her head. “I remember it well, your ladyship.”
“I should hope so. To refuse a most respectable proposal is a sign of dangerous independence. Young ladies ought not be given such liberties. I cannot imagine what your family was about, allowing you to choose your own course in so important a matter.”
Mr. Bennet managed a small smile. “My cousin Mr. Collins has spoken so frequently of your ladyship’s opinions that I feel almost acquainted with them.”
Lady Catherine stared at him, uncertain whether this was compliment or critique.
She returned her attention to Elizabeth. “Tell me — have you secured an offer more suitable than the one you so imprudently cast aside?”
Elizabeth felt the eyes of several at the table. Without meaning to, her gaze flickered toward Darcy.
To her surprise, he did not look away.
Her breath caught, and she turned back to Lady Catherine. “No, your ladyship. My circumstances remain unchanged.”
“As I predicted,” Lady Catherine declared triumphantly. “Young women who disregard sound guidance seldom prosper.”
Darcy shifted, his expression tightening as though the remark pained him.
Mr. Collins leaned forward eagerly. “Indeed, your ladyship speaks nothing but truth. My cousin Elizabeth’s refusal was a grievous blow, yet I forgave her at once. I told Mrs. Collins that some young ladies simply do not recognise their blessings.”
Charlotte touched his sleeve gently and attempted a smile that did not reach her eyes. No one at the table responded to the remark, though Elizabeth observed the varied emotions that passed across the faces of those present—particularly that of Mr Darcy.
Conversation spread more easily once eating commenced.
Caroline Bingley, as if alert for mischief, turned her gaze upon Elizabeth with affected warmth.
“I trust Pemberley’s breakfast arrangements meet your expectations, Miss Elizabeth.
They must differ from your accommodations on the road. Inns are so very plain.”
Elizabeth smiled. “They are, but simplicity has its comforts too.”
"Indeed." Captain Ashford, seated opposite her, remarked amiably, "A plain table may yet offer excellent company. I have endured many an indifferent meal in barracks that was rendered quite delightful by spirited conversation."
Caroline stiffened. Darcy’s eyes moved at once toward Ashford, though he said nothing.
Mr. Collins, unwilling to lose the stage, exclaimed, “Such elegance as this table must surely remind your ladyship of Rosings. The urns, especially—”
Darcy set his fork down with mild finality. “Mrs. Reynolds is responsible for the table here, Mr. Collins.”
“Mrs. Reynolds was properly trained.” Lady Catherine approved. “That accounts for the order.”
The atmosphere might have settled, had Lydia not spoken just then.
“This breakfast reminds me of my wedding feast!” she cried. “Wickham said it was the best meal he had tasted in an age.”
A spoon slipped from Georgiana’s hand with a soft clatter.
Elizabeth looked up sharply and saw the girl’s fingers tremble as she retrieved it. Her heart twisted painfully.
Miss Bingley, perceiving her opportunity, leaned forward with an air of solicitous concern.
"Your wedding? Of course, Mrs Wickham. I confess it quite slipped my mind to make inquiries yesterday.
We heard the most curious rumours in the neighbourhood regarding an elopement.
I do not doubt there is a most interesting tale to be told. "
Lydia brightened. “La! People were only gossiping. We married properly at St. Clement’s. I had a new gown and everything.”
“When I first heard of my cousin’s sudden disappearance,” Mr. Collins said, seizing the subject with solemn satisfaction, “I went immediately to Lady Catherine, that she might offer her wisdom upon the impropriety.”
“Yes, Mr. Collins,” Lady Catherine replied, “I recall the conversation. Fortunately, you soon learned there had been a marriage, though sudden journeys of that sort rarely occur without some indiscretion at the beginning.”
Mrs. Bennet flushed, mortified. “It was all respectable in the end, I assure you.”
“Oh, entirely respectable!” Lydia cried. “
Mary nudged her sharply beneath the table, and Lydia subsided with a pout.
Caroline leaned forward with an expression of false delicacy. “But, Mrs. Wickham, I remember the rumours spoke of a hurried wedding. People were quite uncertain what to believe. Matters arranged so abruptly invite conjecture… one naturally wondered.”
Mrs. Hurst gave a gentle, knowing sigh. “Indeed, the abruptness was much remarked upon.”
Mrs. Bennet wrung her hands. “There was nothing to remark upon! They are married — that is all anyone need say.”
Caroline lowered her lashes, pretending sympathy. “Of course, Mrs. Bennet. Only, when a young lady leaves her family with such haste, without explanation, people are bound to speculate. It is the way of society.”
Mr. Bennet set down his cup with quiet finality. “Miss Bingley, I have observed that speculation is very like thistledown. It drifts farther than one wishes when encouraged, and settles quickly the moment one stops disturbing it. Perhaps we might all allow it to settle.”
A faint murmur of agreement travelled down the table, the uncomfortable subject seeming at last to settle.
Elizabeth risked a glance at Miss Bingley and saw, with a sinking heart, the quiet triumph behind her composed expression.
Lydia’s heedless chatter had furnished a jealous woman with the very weapon she desired, permitting her to hint at impropriety no well-bred lady ought ever raise at a gentleman’s table.
“The matter is concluded.” Darcy added at last, his tone low but decisive, “I would not have it discussed further.”
Caroline fell silent at once, though resentment flickered behind her composed smile.
Throughout the exchange, Mr Bingley's gaze moved anxiously between Jane, the other Bennet sisters and his sisters, clearly uncomfortable with the entire discussion.
Mr Hurst remained devoted to his plate, wholly indifferent to the tensions surrounding him.
Elizabeth’s gaze returned to Georgiana. The girl sat rigid, her eyes cast down. Pain, old shame, and the effort to remain composed were unmistakable.
Elizabeth’s heart ached. The mention of Wickham wounds her still, she thought. And Lydia has no notion of it.
Elizabeth watched as Mr Darcy's countenance softened with concern for his sister. Then his gaze shifted to her, and the look in his eyes—earnest, searching, almost pained—sent a flush of confusion through her. She could not meet it and turned away at once.
The table continued in strained silence, broken only by the soft clink of utensils against china. The tension hung so heavily in the air that it seemed almost palpable.
"Miss Elizabeth," Captain Ashford said, breaking the silence in what seemed an attempt to ease the tension, "if the servants have managed to clear the paths, perhaps you might favour us with a turnabout the grounds later. I should welcome the company."
Elizabeth smiled politely. “If the weather allows, I should enjoy it.”
Darcy’s fork paused. Caroline’s brows arched with interest.
Lady Catherine refused to be left out. She drew herself up with great decision.
“I should like a walk, for fresh air improves the mind, and Miss Elizabeth would, of course, join my party. I could continue the guidance she so evidently requires, her refusal of Mr Collins being proof enough of that. It is only a pity the weather is far too cold for me, or she should certainly have accompanied me and benefited from my instruction.”
Darcy intervened at once. “Aunt, Miss Elizabeth is my guest.”
“Exactly why she stands in need of improvement,” Lady Catherine retorted, quite satisfied with her reasoning.
Before Elizabeth could attempt a reply, Mr Bennet spoke with mild courtesy. “Your ladyship is very considerate, though I believe my daughter is accustomed to managing her walks without oversight.”
Lady Catherine stared, astonished at being opposed so mildly. After a stiff moment she gave a sharp sniff and returned to her chocolate, convinced, from her air, that the greatest misfortune of the morning was Elizabeth Bennet's loss of her superior instruction.
When the meal had finally run its course, Darcy rose. “I thank you all for joining us. Should anyone require anything, Mrs. Reynolds will be happy to assist.”
His tone restored the unmistakable order of the house. Even Lady Catherine inclined her head, acknowledging his authority.
The party stood and began to leave the table. Elizabeth rose last, still shaken by the morning’s conversation — by Lady Catherine’s interrogation, Caroline’s malice, Lydia’s thoughtlessness, and most of all the look in Darcy’s eyes each time Georgiana trembled.
A confusion of emotions swept through her—pain, regret, and something uncomfortably close to pity. Breakfast at Pemberley had been far from easy, and the hours ahead promised no less difficulty.