Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“I have not written to him either. I declare, I have not thought of him once since the day we left Longbourn.” Though Kitty would marry Matthew again in an instant, she still felt much the same as Elizabeth about her father.
“But still, I am certain he has come to jeer at my efforts to run a house, and I will not avoid him at my own table. We will be down for dinner, Lizzy. Though we planned nothing with Mrs Hawes or Philpot. Oh dear. We all planned to take trays in our rooms tonight, did we not?”
“We did, and you and I are both aware that our father is not above a cold collation, particularly one of the quality that Mrs Philpot will lay. We will not inconvenience the house for him. He saw the black wreath when he presented himself at the door and he is aware that he interrupted a funeral.” Elizabeth insisted.
“Allow me to speak to Mrs Hawes and James about the table. Rest, Kitty. Both of you. You have both done nothing but work since we arrived in Derbyshire.”
“Lizzy, you are no less tired, you must rest as well,” Kitty objected.
“But I do not have a handsome husband waiting to rush me upstairs.” Elizabeth grinned as the couple blushed simultaneously. “I shall go up quite soon, I promise.”
The couple obeyed, and chased one another up the stairs in a rather undignified fashion. At least they like each other. And they are blessed to have each other’s comfort today.
Elizabeth went to the kitchen and spoke to Mrs Hawes and Mrs Philpot about the evening meal.
“It is providential to have a guest, for there is so much game left that some might have gone to waste, but with a guest for supper, I can make a proper pheasant and partridge soup.” The cook bustled about, pulling down pots and assembling ingredients.
“Mrs Philpot, we do not wish to cause more work for anybody. My father ought to have sent word of his visit. The leftovers from today will be enough.”
“It is always better to use up what we have than let it go to waste, Miss Lizzy,” the cook insisted.
“As it is, I will still be sending a generous basket and even a pot of soup to Mrs Pyne’s cottage.
“‘Tis a sin to throw away good food. Not as if I was plannin’ to go upstairs and rest, in any case.”
“Very well, but my father does not require any special attention, please do not go to any trouble,” Elizabeth begged.
“Of course not, Miss Lizzy. You leave it with me.”
Elizabeth obeyed and set out looking for James, who she found in the butler’s pantry, polishing and storing the tea service that was used that day.
“James, as you know, my father is now here, and we will dine downstairs tonight.”
“I expected that, Miss Lizzy, I’ll have the table set in two shakes,” James promised.
“Perhaps rather less silver tonight, my father requires no such excess.” Elizabeth wondered how to convey that too much finery would only invite her father’s derision.
“I quite understand, Miss Lizzy.” James assured her. “It will be just right.”
It was just right as Elizabeth entered the dining room on Matthew’s arm that night, with Kitty and her father following behind them.
James had made the setting more intimate by taking the leaves out of the table to make it smaller, and while the table and sideboard still boasted more silver than many houses, the effect was elegant and lovely rather than overdone.
Mr Walters, exhausted from the loss of his oldest friend, had declined to join them, and took a tray in his room.
“It is not so very much silver.” Mr Bennet’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as they seated themselves.
“Now we know who wrote to him, since Jane is the only one who finds the silver so objectionable,” Elizabeth said to Matthew with a grin.
“I was amazed to learn that my new home had such a collection of fine silver, but we obviously do not use it all at once for such a small and intimate meal,” Kitty informed her father. “Our first footman, James, has such a clever way of arranging just what we need.”
“I am surprised. Your sister Lydia would use every piece at once,” Mr Bennet jested.
“I am not Lydia,” Kitty replied testily.
“Nor could one use all or even half of the Denny silver at once,” Matthew said. “Not even at the largest events the house has ever hosted.”
“Why did you marry my daughter for a dowry if you had such a fortune in silver at your disposal?” Mr Bennet asked once the footmen had served the wine and left them to return with the soup.
He had been cordial–for Mr Bennet–since they all met in the drawing room, but Mr Bennet’s brand of civility was often quite cutting, and Matthew was unused to it.
Mr Bennet gave Matthew his condolences on the loss of his father, but otherwise did not seem to care overly much that he was imposing upon a house in mourning.
“I like Kitty.” Matthew was bluntly honest. “Of course, I did not court her before, because I am not a very rich man, and I ought to marry with at least some attention to fortune, if I have any concern for my wife’s maintenance after I die.
Some men take what they please and leave their women to fend for themselves during widowhood, but I am not one of them.
When I thought there was no dowry, I was unsure that I could provide her with a proper widow’s pension. ”
He took a sip of wine and continued. “I will not lie however, and pretend that I was even certain the silver still existed. I knew that my father allowed the income of the estate to suffer and that there are tenant houses in need of repair. It would not be at all difficult to believe that the silver was gone, if the estate was suffering. It turns out that all the estate is suffering from is neglect and disinterest. My father did not enjoy my company as he did my brother’s, and he refused to trouble himself to keep the estate well-maintained for me, but he clearly never sacrificed his own comfort or possessions. ”
“How are matters with the estate?” Kitty asked. “Did you settle the problem of the rents?”
“It is unfortunate, but the steward will have to go, though it will look bad if we turn him over to the magistrate for his theft and mismanagement,” Matthew answered.
“Mr Darcy is helping me to hire a local man I can trust. We have only been waiting for the reading of the will. We know what it says. Walters witnessed it not long before we arrived, so we are prepared, but it has so far been too soon to start dismissing the staff until we can no longer avoid it.”
“So will you still use Kitty’s dowry for your repairs?” Mr Bennet asked.
Imagine asking such a question. He refused to protect Kitty’s dowry in her settlement, he hardly has any right to be concerned about it now. Elizabeth turned her attention to James as he entered with the pheasant and partridge soup.
When the soup was served and the footmen left them, Matthew answered. “I hope we will not, but if so, I will repay double whatever I borrow from it, so darling, if I use a thousand pounds for the estate from your funds, I will repay you two thousand, that is, eventually.”
“Oh you do not need to do that!” Kitty objected. “You need the money for the estate.”
“I hope to be able to add to your portion in any case, in addition to providing for our children,” Matthew insisted.
“Besides, I would be more likely to sell the silver, or at least some of it. I was thinking of speaking to you about the matter. It is not right to take from you when I have other sources of wealth at my disposal.”
“I said the same thing to Lizzy when we arrived!” Kitty exclaimed. “Not that my dowry ought not be used, that I do not mind…but…it seems silly to hoard so much silver if the estate has other needs.”
“I thought the collection was the pride of your family,” Mr Bennet said with a raised brow.
“Even at half of its size, it would still be an impressive amount of silver.” Matthew smiled tenderly at Kitty. “Besides, my pride will come from providing for my family as I ought, not from possessions I inherited.”
Kitty beamed at him as Elizabeth sought to change the subject to anything innocuous. “Mrs Philpot outdid herself again today. The game soup is delicious.”
“Indeed, this is quite impressive.” Mr Bennet said as he stirred his soup.
“You appear much improved, Kitty. Your servants seem admirably composed and efficient. Either they are exceptionally disciplined, or they have learnt to govern themselves. Or does your sister manage everything for you? You were clever to claim Lizzy’s assistance and lure her away from Longbourn, when you knew your father had need of her. ”
“There was no danger whatsoever of my staying at Longbourn once my majority passed, whether I went with Kitty or not,” Elizabeth interrupted.
“Of course, you planned to run away to your uncle,” Mr Bennet replied. “Jane wrote to me and expressed her concern that you are overburdened here in Derbyshire. I must admit, you appear overworked to me, Lizzy.”
“And you leapt into your carriage and traveled three days north to rescue me?” Elizabeth was unimpressed.
“So that I may do what, return to Longbourn and play steward for you? Keep Mama distracted from bothering you? That sounds like a great deal more work than what I undertake here. This house is in mourning, Papa. I have taken my turns sitting with Mr Denny as we awaited the funeral for days. Everyone in the house is tired, that is perfectly understandable. If I appear unrested, it is due to that and nothing else.”
“I assure you, Mr Bennet, though we are grateful to Elizabeth for her support and friendship to her sister and to me these last weeks, we hardly have any intention of using her as a beast of burden. She is a welcome relation in our home, and a balm of comfort to both of her sisters here in Derbyshire.” Matthew, who tread the waters of his own father’s disapproval for years, regarded Mr Bennet impassively.
“I was told that a housekeeper has already left without notice,” Mr Bennet observed.
“My father was old and sick. We had more than one senior servant who took advantage,” Matthew practically growled. “Mrs Chalton left before she could be dismissed for theft, and has already been replaced by Mrs Hawes, not by my new sister.”
“Well, I look forward to seeing Kitty’s miraculous management of her new home.” Mr Bennet settled back in his chair as Elizabeth seethed and the footmen took away the soup to be replaced by the cold collation and an appetising trifle that Mrs Philpot had not been able to resist supplying.
1 In some English traditions, a “bidder” or funeral inviter was sent house to house to notify others of an impending funeral, often with the delivery of funeral biscuits, as a community token of remembrance.
Favors such as handkerchiefs or rosemary sprigs tied in black ribbon were often expected by attendees.