Page 52 of Colour My World
1810
Chapter 16
Longbourn, August 1810
After the accident and that long evening in the study, her father had made good on his word in the formidable guise of one Mrs Ophelia Ecclestone.
She swept into Longbourn with the air of a general inspecting her troops, tall, broad-shouldered, her gown a severe brownish grey that matched the storm cloudairethat trailed in her wake. It coiled behind her, clipped and orderly, not dark but disciplined, like tightly looped thread ready for mending.
Elizabeth, watching from the stairs, had smothered a laugh.Of course, her aire would match her hem. No streaks, no shimmer. Pure structure.
Her hair, drawn back in a knot so smooth it might have been carved, did not move as she walked. Her posture declared that disorder would not be tolerated, not even in the shadows.
At supper, Mrs Ecclestone said little. Her presence did nothing to deter the normal happenings: Kitty bounced her knee beneath the table. Lydia laughed with her mouth full. Mama fluttered from subject to subject, never finishing a coherent line of conversation. The following day, she took charge.
By breakfast, French primers waited beside the teapot. Kitty was handed a palette before she finished her roll. Lydia’s embroidery hoop waited at her place, needle already threaded.
By week’s end, Kitty no longer asked what to paint. She narrowed her eyes, studied the light, and worked in silence. Lydia read aloud without interruption.
By month’s end, Mama spoke of costs—never colours—and corrected Hill’s accounts without fluster.
Elizabeth had watched it all with disbelief. Then curiosity. Shehad expected Kitty and Lydia to fall under Mrs Ecclestone’s eye—but not Jane. Not herself.
Mrs Ecclestone placed her knife and fork deliberately upon the table. Kitty and Lydia immediately straightened their posture. Elizabeth stilled, caught off guard when Mrs Ecclestone looked not at the younger girls but at Jane.
“You have chosen not to debut, Miss Bennet.”
It was a statement, not a question.Where will this line of inquiry go?Elizabeth wondered.
“Two sisters entering society together will present a stronger impression,” Jane said.
“A wise decision. A young lady’s first season can be overwhelming. A sister’s companionship will provide support.”
Jane blushed. “Thank you, Mrs Ecclestone.”
Mr Bennet, his tan aire spotted with chocolate drops, replied. “It also spares you, Mrs Bennet, from endless repetition. Jane and Lizzy shall do twice the work of captivating Hertfordshire and London.”
Mrs Bennet shook her head with a smile. “Oh, Mr Bennet.”
“And should they fail to captivate, we may always send Mrs Ecclestone to frighten them into submission.”
“Papa!” exclaimed Elizabeth with her sisters.
Hill entered just then, bearing the trifle. Elizabeth caught the flicker of its glistening berries beneath the candlelight—so many colours nestled in cream.
Mr Bennet rose, his wineglass held aloft. “I am, without question, the most fortunate of men. To dine amidst such beauty—five remarkable daughters, each possessed of grace and charm beyond compare.”
Kitty and Lydia exchanged delighted looks. Jane smiled demurely. Elizabeth waited for the inevitable irony.
“And yet, it is your mother to whom I must offer the highest accolades.”
“Oh, Mr Bennet!” Mrs Bennet fanned herself, her blush accompanied by a lovely smile.
“Her beauty, and hers alone, have cast its spell upon our humble coven.”
“Papa!” Mary replied. “Witches?”
Mr Bennet waggled his brows. “Your charms, my dears, are but one of your advantages. Let us not rely too heavily upon them, or we may fall into folly. No, no. We must endeavour to improve our minds, lest we be nothing more than pretty ornaments upon society’s mantel. And to that noble cause, I shall make my contribution.”
