Page 34 of Sweet on Mr Darcy

“Just this once, Darcy,” she warned. “And only because your boy already has his prey in sight.”

Priscilla took the arm of a younger gentleman and whispered to Elizabeth. “Enjoy your seat. Darcy only changed the place cards around with you in mind four times today. And he rejected three vintages of claret in an effort to see everything perfect.”

Elizabeth entered the dining room on Darcy’s arm. Lady Barry was quite right. The flowers in her hair conspicuously matched those upon the table. Elizabeth saw Miss Bingley glaring in rage at the two of them from farther down.

“Miss Elizabeth, you are very fine in looks this evening. Ivory and red look so well upon you. I can barely look away.” Darcy did not ration his compliments.

“Thank you, Mr Darcy.” Elizabeth blushed as she took her chair.

“I am so happy you are here.” The expression upon his face betrayed his feelings completely.

Ten minutes later, the wine had been served, and the first course was brought in. There was a rich ragout, escaloped oysters, a fricando of veal, a haunch of venison, scotch collops, cauliflowers à la crème, creamed spinach, vegetable moulds, and whipt syllabub.

There was a lull in conversation, only punctuated by the appreciative murmurs of the guests as they sampled the refined dishes.

“This is sublime, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth complimented in a low voice.

“Indeed, Miss Darcy, you are to be complimented upon your menu, and the second course is not even brought out,” Lady Barry said to their hostess.

“Thank you, Lady Barry. My brother and my cousin helped me.” Georgiana replied with a blush. “We worked very hard to make it just right.”

“I am certain that he did.” Lady Barry gave Darcy a sly wink as she enjoyed the veal.

Charlotte had the misfortune to be seated near Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. Miss Bingley was determined to punish someone for the obvious attention Darcy was paying to Elizabeth.

“Indeed, we have no idea how you manage to portion so many step-daughters off respectably, Mrs Bennet.” Miss Bingley’s voice could be heard from many seats away.

Louisa added, “One imagines that economy must become nearly an art. Heaven forfend!”

They caught the attention of their brother, who, as ebullient as ever, looked puzzled. “But the Bennet ladies are quite well provided for, are they not?”

Suddenly, the table was thrown into silence as Miss Bingley glared at her brother.

Bingley continued, apparently without thinking. “Five daughters with nine thousand each to their portion…that is forty-five thousand! That is more than you and Louisa combined, Caroline.”

Bingley went on blithely. “Had our family produced three more daughters, your portions would be rather less than theirs, I think.”

“At least our mother was in possession of the sense not to endanger herself in the endeavour of procuring what may never be obtained. What did you say your predecessor died of, Mrs Bennet?” Caroline was not to be deterred.

Darcy closed his eyes in embarrassment as the other guests stared at their dishes uncomfortably. Elizabeth bit her lip so hard that it hurt. Lydia, who still missed her mother and had been her favourite, looked as though she might stab Miss Bingley with her fork.

“The late Mrs Bennet died just over three years ago from a fever.” Charlotte’s tone was like ice.

Lady Barry spoke up. “How fortunate we are that Mrs Bennet persevered. I remember the lady well. She blessed us with five such lovely daughters, and through prudent economy, secured their futures respectably. If only everyone’s mother was so dedicated. I recall her finest merit was that of minding her own womb and leaving others to theirs.”

She sipped her wine. “You have been more fortunate than you ever expected in both of your wives, Bennet. I hope that you are aware of the fact.”

“Exceedingly.” Mr Bennet glared at Miss Bingley and then smiled at his wife, who glowed, her new jewels sparkling quite handsomely.

The conversation was thankfully interrupted by the arrival of the second course, which consisted impressively of turtle soup, an enormous roast of beef, turbot with lobster sauce, roasted guinea fowls, assorted raised game pies, fresh summer vegetables from the farms of Kent, accompanied by an appetising Charlotte russe.

The conversation flowed, every guest seeming to intend not to let Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst get in a word edgewise. Mr Bingley seemed to be pestering the object of his desire beyond her endurance.

“Miss Bennet, pray do not strain yourself.”

Jane, her wrist only lightly wrapped, paused, her spoon halfway to her lips. “By lifting my spoon, Mr Bingley?”

“You cannot be too careful.”