Chapter 2 #5
James cleared his throat gently before speaking, his expression thoughtful rather than severe as he considered the implications that Laurence had raised with such careless levity.
“Laurence is not entirely mistaken,” he said at last, addressing Miles with the measured concern of an elder brother aware of responsibilities beyond personal feeling.
“Your motives may be honourable, Miles, and no man at this table doubts them; yet you must allow that a rector’s household is never a private concern.
Parishioners observe it, patrons judge it, and neighbours repeat their observations with enthusiasm.
A wife known to have been raised in the Roman communion may therefore occasion remarks which, though unjust, will not easily be silenced. ”
Before Miles could reply, Mrs. Bennet considered that it was time to interfere. “My dear James,” she exclaimed breathlessly, “surely you are not reproaching your brother after all that has happened? I cannot possibly remain silent without fearing the worst when you, my sons, are talking like this.”
“We are not reproaching him, Mother,” James replied patiently, though the faint tightening of his expression suggested that the interruption had not improved the situation.
“Well, it sounded remarkably like reproaching,” she insisted, as though determined to supervise the conversation henceforth. “After everything poor Miles has endured, he deserves encouragement rather than argument.”
Miles inclined his head slightly, speaking with quiet steadiness that neither sought nor avoided the subject. “I am aware that my decision may give rise to concern,” he said. “Father agreed with me, and therefore I am at peace with my decision.”
James regarded him thoughtfully before replying. “Concern perhaps, but not condemnation,” he answered. “You must nevertheless consider that a rector’s household occupies a visible place in parish life, and a Catholic wife may provoke questions that cannot easily be dismissed.”
Elias intervened gently but firmly. “Miles did not seek the difficulty, James. It was placed before him without warning, and he chose the only course by which the young lady’s reputation could be secured without further injury to our own.
If honour leads him into inconvenience, I would rather see him endure it than escape it. ”
Mrs. Bennet seized eagerly upon this defence, turning upon Laurence with renewed indignation.
“Exactly so,” she declared. “All of this difficulty arises from Laurence’s behaviour, and it is quite extraordinary that he should complain of the consequences when everyone else has been labouring to repair the damage. ”
Laurence rolled his eyes with exaggerated patience that failed entirely to conceal his irritation. “Must we rehearse the entire sermon again?”
“No,” Kit said sharply, his composure at last beginning to fracture. “But you will hear it at least once without pretending that the rest of us invented the problem.”
Mrs. Bennet raised her hands in distressed appeal. “My dear boys, surely dinner is not the moment for such disputes.”
They continued speaking as though her protest had scarcely been uttered.
James studied Miles with thoughtful seriousness before speaking again. “I admire the honour of your choice, Brother,” he said carefully. “But I cannot pretend that the wider consequences for the family do not concern me.”
Laurence seized immediately upon this remark. “You see?” he said triumphantly. “Even James finds the arrangement inconvenient.”
“No,” Elias replied calmly. “James finds the circumstances complicated.”
Before the exchange could continue further, the door opened once again and a footman appeared, hesitating just inside the room with visible uncertainty. “Beg pardon, Mrs. Bennet, gentlemen,” he said cautiously, drawing the attention of the entire table.
James looked up with mild impatience. “Yes?”
“Mr. Bennet presents his compliments, gentlemen,” the footman said with visible uncertainty, “and desires to know whether the discussion below stairs is likely to reach a conclusion soon. At present he can hear that a quarrel is taking place, though he regrets that the particulars remain indistinct.”
The poor man then gave a small, apologetic shrug, as if to assure them that he had added nothing of his own to the message and that these had been precisely the words he had been sent to deliver.
James closed his eyes briefly and drew a slow breath. “Father appears disappointed in our lack of clarity,” he said at last. “I suspect we have failed to conduct our quarrel with sufficient distinction. I daresay Father is right again.”
For a moment complete silence followed this unexpected message, before Elias allowed a quiet laugh to escape him and James pressed a hand briefly to his forehead with weary amusement.
“My poor husband!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed in distress. “Listening to such noise when he ought to be resting.”
Laurence muttered dryly, “Nevertheless, Father always did enjoy a good argument.”
The tension in the room dissolved slightly under the absurdity of the situation, and James at last pushed back his chair with a faint sigh. “Very well,” he said with quiet finality. “Let us disappoint him by ceasing to quarrel altogether.”
Kit rose almost immediately. “I should go upstairs and see how he feels,” he said, the earlier anger in his voice replaced by concern.
“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Bennet replied eagerly, clearly relieved by the change of subject. “Tell him dinner has been perfectly harmonious.”
Kit allowed himself the smallest trace of a smile. “I doubt he will believe it, Mother.”
With that he left the room, carrying with him the lingering echoes of a family dispute that, for the moment at least, had been forced into uneasy peace.
Slowly, Laurence looked down at his plate, his face flushed with a mixture of shame and impotent anger.
He did not speak again, and though the silence that followed was neither easy nor forgiving, it carried the unmistakable sense that the youngest Bennet had at last discovered the limits of his defiance.