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“It is a vast sum,” Mrs Philips agreed in a reverent whisper. “And Mr Darcy! He is so handsome, sister. So tall and imposing. When he stood at the church this morning, I declare half the ladies in the pews forgot to breathe.”

“He is the finest gentleman in the kingdom,” Mrs Bennet declared, raising her volume to ensure the surrounding guests absorbed the information. “And he is devoted to Lizzy. He so dotes on her. He provides her with every luxury. Carriages, jewels, a grand estate in Derbyshire. She will have more servants than she could possibly direct.”

“Indeed,” Lady Lucas murmured, her smile strained. “It is a remarkable change of fortune for a young woman of no particular connections.”

Before Mrs Bennet could formulate a devastating reply regarding the superiority of the Bennet bloodline, the crowd near the doorway parted with the urgency of a flock of sheep evading a wolf.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh returned to the dining room.

The lady of Rosings Park wore a gown of stiffened silver brocade, and wielded her gold-topped walking stick with authority, her eyes sweeping the room, evaluating the Meryton society with open judgement.

Behind her, Mrs Gardiner and Anne de Bourgh entered, engaged in a quiet conversation regarding a circulating library in Cheapside.

Mrs Bennet felt a flutter of her old nerves. Lady Catherine was an earl’s daughter. She was terrifying, and she had spent the morning directing the vicar on the proper cadence for reciting the marriage vows. During the past week, Mrs Bennet avoided the great lady, fearing that the matriarch might dissolve the marriage settlements out of spite.

Lady Catherine’s gaze locked on the peach silk gown, and she moved towards the trio of Meryton ladies.

Mrs Philips shrank backwards, attempting to hide behind a floral arrangement. Lady Lucas curtsied hastily. Mrs Bennet held her ground, gripping her fan, and preparing to defend her daughter’s triumph against any sneer.

“Mrs Bennet,” Lady Catherine said. “The chickens are acceptable. The cook has a basic understanding of roasting. However, the jellies lack proper firmness. A jelly must hold its shape under duress.”

“I shall inform the cook, your ladyship,” Mrs Bennet replied with a deep curtsy.

“See that you do,” Lady Catherine instructed, striking her stick on the floor, and turned her attention to the gossips. “You are the aunt, I presume. And Lady Lucas. I trust your daughter continues to appreciate the advantages of Hunsford.”

“Y-yes, your ladyship,” Lady Lucas stammered, awestruck.

Mrs Philips merely nodded, robbed of her speech.

“I overheard your conversation,” Lady Catherine continued. “You were discussing my nephew’s income. Ten thousand a year is a respectable sum. Pemberley is a large estate. It requires a capable mind to manage the household.”

“Lizzy is very clever,” Mrs Bennet offered, attempting to reclaim the upper hand. “She will manage it beautifully. She is a girl of good fortune to secure such a gentleman.”

Lady Catherine planted her walking stick between them.

“She did not secure him through good fortune, madam,” she corrected loudly. “She secured him because I dictated the lakeside courtship!”

Mrs Bennet blinked, her mind struggling to process the shift in the conversation. “I beg your pardon, your ladyship?”

“The courtship, Mrs Bennet!” Lady Catherine repeated, as though addressing a very slow child. “Fitzwilliam is a gentleman of excellent breeding, but he had no experience in courtships. He would have wandered the Derbyshire woods for months, staring at the foliage. I took the matter in hand. I organised the picnic. I instructed him on the precise moment to offer his compliments. The endeavour concluded successfully under my direct governance. You are welcome, Mrs Bennet.”

Mrs Bennet stared at her, a glorious realisation dawning. Lady Catherine was not attempting to diminish the match, nor was she insulting Lizzy; she was claiming credit for the triumph. And if the earl’s daughter wished to claim the credit, Mrs Bennet would gladly share the boasting. They had a mutual interest in elevating the Darcy marriage above all others.

“Your ladyship is too modest,” Mrs Bennet declared, her voice rising to match her ladyship’s volume. “Your guidance was undoubtedly the saving grace of the affair. Lizzy frequently mentioned how you arranged the phaeton rides to ensure maximum exposure to the fresh air.”

“I insisted on the open carriage,” Lady Catherine confirmed, puffing her chest. “A closed coach is improper. Furthermore, I instructed him to praise her posture. A lady’s alignment is a true indicator of her character.”

“Lizzy has always had a magnificent spine,” Mrs Bennet agreed, nodding to Lady Lucas. “She never slumps. I always instructed my girls to sit upright. It yields dividends, Lady Lucas. Ten thousand a year in dividends.”

Lady Lucas turned a shade of green.

“The spine is crucial,” Lady Catherine affirmed, approving of Mrs Bennet’s assessment. “Mrs Darcy also has a firm mind. We played a ruthless game of pasteboard, and she kept back her king with considerable cunning. I abhor a weak-minded female. Fitzwilliam requires a wife who will not faint when the hounds bark. I determined she was suitable, and I finalised the matter.”

“It is a blessing to have such excellent support, your ladyship,” Mrs Philips chimed in, having recovered a measure of her courage. “To think, our Lizzy, mistress of Pemberley, supported by the wisdom of Rosings Park.”

“She shall require my continued guidance, of course,” Lady Catherine noted. “I intend to visit Derbyshire frequently to ensure order is maintained. Mrs Darcy has an agreeable wit, but she lacks experience of managing a grand estate. I shall instruct her.”

Mrs Bennet did not care a jot if Lady Catherine decorated the entirety of Pemberley in lime green wool. The lady had publicly validated the marriage, claimed Lizzy as her protégée, and demolished the jealous gossip of Meryton in a few sentences.