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There was nothing for it but to go to the head of the table, where stood all her sisters, even Mary—although she appeared slightly uncomfortable. But Jane held out her arms for a brief embrace and kissed her cheek; Kitty, Lydia, and Mary did the same. Jane then guided her to a seat at her left, with Kitty just beyond, and Lydia and Mary on her right; a small pile of gifts lay beside her plate. Then, of all people, Mrs Bennet began clapping, quickly joined by the other guests.
“Many happy returns of the day, Lizzy!” Mr Bingley called.
The dinner service began at once, with servants carrying platters, and attention quickly turned to the lavish meal. However, all unspoken, the message was obvious: her sisters had taken a stand, and every one of them stood with Lizzy. From her seat, she could not see Mr Bennet’s face. But she could only imagine.
“Janey, I thank you! But should we be so…obvious?” Lizzy whispered.
“Should we be afraid of doing too much on your behalf? We are your sisters,” Jane murmured. “We had planned to make a little celebration of your birthday tonight these two weeks past. But it is time he understands how little his threats mean. We chose. We choose you.” She lifted her chin.
“Even Mary?” Lizzy asked, gratified but a bit uncertain. “And Lydia has forgiven me?”
“With a drop of encouragement, yes,” Jane said, smiling serenely. “Open your gifts.”
From Jane, she received an exquisitely jewelled hair pin. There was a lovely fan from Kitty, a fine silken shawl from Lydia, and a pretty garnet cross from Mary. Lizzy was not fooled. The Bingleys had, plainly, financed the shopping expedition—and had probably reassured her sisters that their clothing, ribbons, and shoe roses were safe from retribution. Nevertheless, it did not negate their courage in taking such a stand. She thanked them all as best she could, receiving congratulations from those seated nearby. Bingley was directly across from Jane, but to his left were three empty settings—plainly for the Gardiners and Darcy—with the Lucases at his right. Her parents were mostly—and happily—beyond sight on Kitty’s other side, and she could only wonder at what her father’s response would be.
Well, I will hear about it later, I am certain. We all will.
“I am sorry for the disruption to your numbers and places,” Lizzy apologised, feeling somehow responsible—for of course, it was an odd seating arrangement.
Jane waved this away. “I do not give a fig for that. Most of our guests have known you all your life. They can indulge us.”
The meal was a lengthy one, planned with four courses and perhaps a dozen dishes in each.
“You, and Mrs Schmidt, too, have outdone yourselves,” Lizzy said after the second remove of roast. “As I went over the menu today with her, I saw that you both had done Mama proud.”
“Just wait until you see what she has done with the dessert,” she murmured.
It did not take long to discover it. In marched Bingley’s entire livery—in full regalia—the butler hoisting a generously sized torte gleaming with colourful, flaming candles, twenty in all, the tallest one stuck in the middle. The other footmen carried more traditional sweetmeats, cakes, and pies around to the rest of the long table, but the butler set the flaming treat before Elizabeth with a flourish. Everyone—or so it seemed—clapped and cheered, and Lizzy laughed in astonished surprise.
“Mrs Schmidt described it as something they do in Germany for the children, when I wished aloud for something dazzling for you, Lizzy,” Jane explained, smiling hugely. “One candle for each year to celebrate too many birthdays gone unappreciated.”
“How old are you, Lizzy? I believe you will set my ceiling ablaze!” Mr Bingley chuckled, along with the rest of the table.
“Help me put them out, then!” She laughed, standing to blow on the uppermost ones, and laughed still more as he puffed at it in a facetiously frantic manner from his seat—too far away to be useful—to the great amusement of the other diners.
The high-pitched screech of a dining chair across the marble floor interrupted the laughter.
“How dare you!” bellowed Mr Bennet to the sudden astonishment of the entire table.
Lizzy turned sharply towards him and, at last, saw his furious response to her sisters’ support, to her mother’s small defiance, to this celebration, all clearly written in the rage upon his face. His was purple with it, and a small part of her mind wondered if he was having an apoplexy.
“You!” he fumed. “You! If you are so anxious to expose yourself, well then, allow me!”
Mrs Hurst glared. Miss Bingley tittered nervously.
And Lizzy realised with a sudden foreshadowing that she was about to witness his best efforts at ruining them all.
