Chapter 16
Grasmere
“My dear sir, this is most inconvenient. A lady and her daughter said you were expecting company, and my head waiter has already led them to the table. He mistakenly assumed they were Mrs. and Miss Bennet, also being guests of the hotel.”
“Can we take a larger table? We will need a table for seven.” Mr. Darcy appeared unperturbed—a common occurrence, no doubt, in a country hotel.
“The other tables are reserved,” replied the innkeeper, somewhat embarrassed.
“Mayhap I could set places at the head and foot of the table. A little crowded, but if a gentleman were to sit at the foot, the other gentleman and the lady on one side, and the three young ladies to the other, and Mrs. Bennet at the head. Would that be acceptable?” He glanced at Georgiana and me, both possessing trim figures and certainly able to sit close quite comfortably.
We acquiesced to the scheme and followed Mr. Darcy to the table, where a waiter was already placing cutlery at the head and foot, and clearing away one place setting from beside Lady Augustus—she and her daughter were both seated at the table.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy,” said the lady. “When your son, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, described the Salutation Hotel, Eustacia and I agreed at once it would be far superior accommodation to the Old England Inn in Bowness.”
“Lady Augustus, Miss Augustus, let me introduce my dear friends Mrs. Bennet and her daughter Miss Bennet. I believe you have already met my daughter, Miss Darcy, when dining with Lady Matlock.” Mr. Darcy seated Mama at the head, then took his place at the foot, between Lady Augustus to one side, and Miss Augustus on the other.
Georgiana and I took our places opposite Darcy, who was beside the lady.
At first, I thought Lady Augustus might object to Mama taking the hostess’s place at the head. She appeared slightly vexed; then seemed to decide that sitting between Mr. Darcy and his son was more to her advantage.
“Mr. Darcy, it is such a delight to find ourselves at table with you this evening,” said Lady Augustus, turning towards Darcy. “What a rarity, these intimate gatherings, away from the noise and press of society balls. Do you not agree, sir?”
Darcy leant back in his chair to allow the waiter to serve the first course. “Indeed, Lady Augustus. One is afforded an opportunity for more—” he paused, as if searching for the right word. “—substantial conversation.”
I caught his eye—poor man. It was clear the ambush had been sprung.
“Exactly so!” continued the lady. “I have always said, the true measure of a person is revealed not in the ballroom, but at dinner, where wit and intelligence are not drowned by the music. Do you not find, Mr. Darcy, that some young ladies shine brightest in such a setting?”
Mama coughed politely into her napkin. Georgiana let her spoon clink quite indecorously on the side of her bowl. Unobtrusively, I took her hand and winked. Oh, this was to be a truly capital meal.
“Oh, I quite agree, Mother!” interposed Eustacia. “I always say I am never so much myself as when I am among a select and discerning company. Large parties are so… fatiguing, do you not think so, Mr. Darcy?”
The question was delivered, ever so daintily, with a slight blush.
Darcy squirmed in his seat, then smiled, glancing at me—I was smirking behind my hand.
My amusement seemed to prompt him to take up the challenge.
“There is much to be said for select company, Miss Augustus. Though I confess, I am not always at my ease in crowds.”
Lady Augustus leant forward. “My Eustacia is quite the same. She has always possessed a delicacy of constitution, sensitive to noise and vulgarity. Indeed, her governess predicted she would be best suited to the quiet dignity of a great house, rather than the bustle of Town.”
“I have always preferred the country, Mr. Darcy,” added Miss Eustacia. “There is such poetry in a quiet morning’s walk, or the reading of a favourite volume by the fire. Do you enjoy poetry, sir?”
It was fortunate that I had not taken a sip of the excellent soup. I could hardly restrain my chortle—indeed, a sound akin to a strangled cat escaped me. Hastily, I grabbed my napkin and placed it against my mouth. “Dear me, I believe there was a small bone caught in my throat.”
Darcy looked at my watering eyes. “Waiter!” he called. “A glass of elderberry wine for Miss Elizabeth!”
How could he remain so calm, so reserved?
After I had taken a sip of the wine, he turned once again to Miss Augustus.
“I do enjoy poetry, on occasion. There is much to admire in the works of Cowper, or perhaps Wordsworth, though I find myself returning often to Milton. In fact, we have recently added to our library an exceedingly fine collection of first editions.”
Mama looked up. Both Mr. Darcy senior and Darcy acknowledged her loss with a quiet, reflective nod. She smiled. “It was Mr. Bennet’s request, sir, and my pleasure to see them to a good home.”
Lady Augustus appeared not to notice this exchange, and ploughed on with her repartee. “How refined! Eustacia is quite the poet herself—are you not, my dear? She composes verses for every occasion. Only yesterday, she wrote a sonnet on the subject of our arrival at the Lakes.”
“Oh, Mama! I am sure Mr. Darcy would not wish to be troubled with my scribblings.”
“Nonsense!” cried the lady. “I am sure Mr. Darcy appreciates female accomplishments as much as any gentleman of taste. Perhaps, after the soup, you might recite a few lines for us, Eustacia?”
Darcy addressed the table: “We should be honoured to hear them, if Miss Augustus is so inclined.”
“You are too kind, Mr. Darcy. I am sure I could never match the grandeur of Milton, but I have always thought there is a particular felicity in the poetry of everyday life. Even ordinary things become beautiful, do they not, when captured in verse?”
So beautifully said, so… so poetic, so vainglorious.
“There is much truth in that, Miss Augustus,” said Darcy. “The poet’s eye may find significance where others see only the commonplace.”
Lady Augustus nodded vigorously. “Precisely! That is why I have always encouraged my Eustacia’s artistic pursuits.
Accomplishments, you know, Mr. Darcy, are the truest adornment of a young woman of consequence.
Eustacia plays the harp, the pianoforte, and has some skill with watercolours.
Her Italian is considered quite extraordinary by those who have heard her recite. ”
“Oh, Mother, you are too—”
“Not at all, my dear! Mr. Darcy must be made aware of your talents. You know, sir, when we were last in Bath, Lady Catesby herself declared that Eustacia’s rendition of ‘Caro mio ben’ was the most affecting she had ever heard.
And as for her watercolours, Mrs. Fitzherbert offered to display one in her own drawing room. ”
How could I restrain myself? “Oh, Miss Augustus, you must also love Paisello’s ‘Nel cor più non mi sento’. Let me recall the words: Mi pizzichi, mi stuzzichi—You pester me, you nettle me.”
Darcy laughed. “I fear, Miss Elizabeth, that you have misplaced some of the lyrics. Particularly the line: Pietà, pietà, pietà—Mercy, mercy, mercy!”
Mr. Darcy also chuckled, but Miss Augustus looked puzzled. “Oh no,” she said, “that song is not part of my repertoire. Mother has only encouraged Italian opera.”
Darcy bowed his head. “You are fortunate, Miss Augustus, to have such encouragement. Your mother shows great sense, for Giovanni Paisiello was not Italian but Neapolitan. Many young ladies are not so supported in their endeavours.”
I turned away from the table—could I feign yet another bone caught in my throat? I was finding it very hard to contain my mirth. Oh, the wicked man!
“I am indeed, Mr. Darcy. I only wish my accomplishments might be found useful, as well as ornamental. I have often thought, were I mistress of a great house, I should wish to arrange charitable visits, and contribute to the comfort of the tenants. My father always said a lady’s influence should be felt beyond the drawing room.
Good order in a household is certainly essential to a gentleman’s comfort. ”
A great house!—surely the discourse would soon move close to Pemberley itself. Now it came.
“Oh, it is more than just comfort! It is peace!” Lady Augustus sighed, her voice growing louder.
“A man of your consequence in Derbyshire must require a woman of equal consequence to manage the grand scale of Pemberley. Someone of suitable lineage, with accomplishments that reflect the dignity of an ancient name.”
Mama glanced at Mr. Darcy, who gave the barest tilt of his head. She turned toward Lady Augustus, speaking across Darcy, who was, for a moment, unhorsed by the directness of Miss Eustacia’s discourse.
“Lady Augustus, I am told your husband, Sir Henry, is a noted parliamentarian. It must be a relief to forego the necessity of entertaining Members of Parliament, now that it is summer and Parliament is in recess.”
The lady stopped midstream in her description of Miss Eustacia’s kind-hearted, but decidedly misdirected, attentions to the poorer tenants of their estate.
“Eh… to be sure, Mrs. Bennet. The role of a Member of Parliament’s wife is onerous, most certainly.
Why, only a month past, I entertained the Fitzherberts, for Henry wished for the man’s support for his bill to ban commoners from dying in the Houses of Parliament.
I do believe, that without my efforts, the bill would have been defeated. ”
“My, what a victory,” said Mrs. Bennet. “Truly, I cannot imagine a more worthwhile cause. While I lament the passing of Mr. Bennet, I am glad he was neither elected nor died at Westminster. You have my sympathy.”