Chapter Twenty-Two
“Kitty, you look lovely. Marriage obviously agrees with you. Lizzy, you look tired. I do hope you are not overworking yourself, helping our young sister.” Jane bussed first Kitty’s cheeks, then Elizabeth’s, as Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
“Not at all, Kitty hardly needs my help with the household, I spend most of my time helping to look after Mr Denny. His friend Mr Walters is sitting with him tonight.” Elizabeth would not allow Jane to make it seem as if Kitty could not run her own home without her older sister’s help.
Certainly, Kitty needed support just now, but any young bride entering such a situation would.
In the drawing room, Jane ignored the Darcys and the rest of the guests she knew would disregard her, and focused her attention on making herself agreeable to Kitty’s neighbours.
“Kitty was never much interested in domestic matters before her marriage,” Jane said companionably to Mrs Beaumont as they sat beside one another on a settee. “I am not surprised that my mother sent Lizzy to assist her.”
“I assure you, Kitty saw personally to all of the preparations tonight, Jane.” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at her sister.
“It was so important to her that she show you the proper respect while you are visiting Derbyshire. With Mr Denny ill, one might have thought that Hawthorne Vale might not entertain at all, but Kitty would never allow you to return to Meryton feeling neglected.”
Elizabeth was grateful for Mrs Philpot’s punctuality and the determination of James to show his mistress in a good light when dinner was announced promptly only a few minutes later.
Elizabeth could not have been more delighted and proud when they filed into the dining room, which was glowing with candlelight and polished silver. James had outdone himself setting the table.
“Heavens, what a glare!” Jane shielded her eyes from the beautiful table settings. “I do not believe I have ever seen such a display.”
“I always hoped to see the famous Denny silver collection,” Mrs Gordenson murmured. “Well done, Mrs Denny.”
“This is only a small portion of the silver which my grandmother brought as a dowry when she joined the family.” Matthew replied. “Her father held shares in a silver company, and my wife was quite in awe to see it all when we arrived.”
“I certainly never expected such an extensive collection,” Kitty said. “I am proud to be the next caretaker of the Denny silver.”
“I fear I should be mortified to put on such airs,” Jane fretted.
“Somehow, I suspect that were you to obtain such a collection yourself, you would overcome your mortification remarkably fast, Mrs Bingley.” Priscilla observed from her place between Matthew and Mr Beaumont.
“I am certain any lady would,” Mrs Beaumont concurred.
James and the footmen served wine, then brought in the first course.
Mrs Philpot had not disappointed them. Instead of white soup, mulligatawny was served, followed by stewed eels in cream sauce, pheasant with bread sauce, tongue, forced cabbage, boiled and buttered potatoes flavoured with rosemary, glazed carrots, turnips, as well as flummery and a queen of pudding topped high with meringue.
The first course was met with murmurs of delight. “You set a remarkably exquisite table, Mrs Denny,” Mr Gordenson complimented her.
“You are very kind.” Kitty’s face lit up.
“Yes, you are very fortunate to have such a capable staff.” Jane turned to Mrs Beaumont. “One cannot take all of the credit for oneself, can one, Mrs Beaumont?”
“I believe our sister is not lacking in the proper humility.” Mr Collins cleared his throat and attempted to steer the conversation to anything polite and civil. “Mr Darcy, do you think we will have more snow, or might the winter be behind us?”
“I think we have seen the last of the snow for the winter, though I have been wrong before,” Darcy answered.
The guests turned their attention to the food for several minutes, and Elizabeth noticed Jane fussing over the mulligatawny.
“Are you well, darling?” Mr Bingley asked from across the table.
“I am. The soup is delicious but rather strong in flavour, I do hope it is not unwise for anyone…delicate.” Jane pressed her hand to her abdomen as the footman removed the bowl of soup and replaced it with another dish.
“We shall have a delicacy in the next course,” Kitty informed the other guests. “Our cook and a woman on the estate know the secret to preparing foie gras, which must usually–”
“Does that not come from France?” Jane interrupted. “How continental. I do hope it will not prove too exotic for the palates of the gentlemen.”
“I enjoy foie gras very much,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said from his place next to Kitty. “I look forward to the next course with relish, Mrs Denny.”
“I believe we have found the secret Darcy and my mother have been hiding, for their tables have been the only ones to serve foie gras since the war started, Lady Jersey even once accused my mother of having it smuggled.”
“Now now, Lady Matlock might serve smuggled champagne, but she would never smuggle foie gras into the kingdom.” Laughter rumbled in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s chest and spread about the table.
“Lady Matlock would never need to serve smuggled champagne, your grandfather laid down enough to last twelve wars, and so did mine,” Darcy lifted his glass.
“To forward thinkers. And to Mrs Denny’s tenant and her cook, who are indeed the suppliers from whom Lady Matlock and I procure our foie gras.
I believe that it requires the skill of both the poulterer and a skilled cook to create. ”
When the second course was served, Kitty spoke to Jane. “This lovely mushroom soup ought to be simple enough for you, Jane.”
“I must say, you set a remarkably rich table, Kitty. Quite unlike anything we ever had at Longbourn. Mama would scarcely believe it.” Jane eyed the dishes as if they were all snakes that might bite.
Elizabeth was ready to snap in frustration. Since sitting down, Jane had suggested that Kitty’s table was pretentious, implied that she was putting on airs, and now she had just diminished their upbringing as if they had never eaten well at home growing up.
“Perhaps we did not have foie gras at home, no great shock in the country and at wartime, and perhaps Mama did not serve many dishes with curry, but we hardly grew up on gruel, Jane. Longbourn’s cook is competent at her share of French dishes.
” Elizabeth glared at her elder sister. “Kitty’s table is a credit to her cook, and even more so when you consider that nearly everything on the table came from the estate, and nothing was ordered from the butcher but tongue. ”
“And that only to soothe my wife’s conscience, because if she was to entertain, she wished to give some trade to the village,” Denny added.
“It was intelligent of your wife to make a friend of your cook so quickly,” Darcy complimented. “For surely this meal is a credit to Mrs Denny’s warm welcome by her staff.”
“And it was intelligent of her to send the gamekeepers home with generous portions of their catch, she has made friends of them all. We shall eat well here at Hawthorne Vale.” Denny lifted his glass in Kitty’s direction. “To my wife.”
“To Mrs Denny,” everyone intoned, lifting their glasses to their hostess.
The mushroom soup was followed by a fat haunch of venison, with salt baked grayling, duck simmered in sweet wine and herbs, and foie gras. The table also groaned under platters and serving bowls of mashed potatoes with turnips, parsnips, baked apples, and a luxuriously layered trifle.
“This grayling is well prepared, Kitty, you must give my compliments to your cook,” Georgiana marveled.
“And the foie gras is simply excellent, Mrs Denny,” Priscilla praised. “One does not often encounter such a refined dish away from the most noble tables of London.”
Jane regarded the small serving of foie gras on her plate and everyone watched as she took the smallest of bites and chewed thoughtfully. Elizabeth wondered how she could taste such a small amount.
“I fear it is rather rich for me. I should hate to faint and cause a scene at Kitty’s table,” Jane worried.
“I detest being ill, it must be a trial for you to suffer so, Mrs Bingley,” said Major Gordenson.
Kitty flushed. “Perhaps we ought to have served something lighter.”
“Nonsense,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Jane, you are perfectly well.”
Mr Bingley looked down the table at his wife anxiously. “My darling, please, you must not over exert yourself for appearances. Would you like to return to the parsonage so that you might rest? Your sister will understand.”
“Certainly, Mrs Bingley must retire as soon as she pleases if she is unwell,” agreed Matthew. “We should hate to impose upon her in any way.”
“Do not be silly,” Jane put the matter to rest. “This is Kitty’s evening, I would never do anything to spoil it. Besides, she obviously put great effort into making her staff appear disciplined.”
Now it was Mary’s turn to be impatient. “Forgive me, but I believe that our sister manages a great deal better than only appearing disciplined. Kitty, I cannot recall when I attended a more graciously managed evening.”
“Nor I.” Darcy inclined his head.
“I am only newly out in the country, but I certainly pray that my first dinner as a proper hostess at Pemberley goes as well.” Miss Darcy looked anxiously at her friend.
Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled. “Mrs Denny, if this is mismanagement, I should like to see your cook’s efforts at her most competent.”
A ripple of laughter swept the table, and Elizabeth was gratified to see Kitty’s eyes shine, not with tears or mortification, but with relief.
When the ladies rose to follow Kitty to the music room, Priscilla drew close to Elizabeth. “Your sister has remarkable social instincts. She knows precisely how to make a person’s merits seem malicious.”
“That she does,” Elizabeth acknowledged.