Page 75 of The Slipper Scandal
"I confess to reading the papers with some regularity," Elizabeth admitted. "My father has always encouraged an interest in world affairs. Though of course, you gentlemen would have more exact information from your work in the Lords."
"Your father is a forward-thinking gentleman," Mrs. Fitzherbert remarked. "Too many young ladies are discouraged from concerning themselves with such matters."
"The regent's support for Catholic emancipation may be the first true test," Mr. Darcy observed, smoothly returning to the original subject. "It is a cause he has championed privately, yet one that would face considerable opposition from many quarters."
"Including the King himself, should he ever recover his faculties," Lord Matlock added gravely. "Though that appears increasingly unlikely."
"It is a sad situation," Elizabeth said softly. "For both the country and the royal family."
"Indeed," Lady Matlock agreed. "The Queen bears it with remarkable fortitude, though the strain must be immense."
The conversation continued over the soup and into the next remove, wandering away from politics and to the management of estates. Lord Spencer raised the question of agricultural improvements, and Mr. Darcy deferred to Elizabeth's knowledge of Hertfordshire farming practices, drawing her into a discussion where her observations were received with genuine interest.
"You see, Miss Bennet understands the practical implications," Mr. Darcy said with unmistakable pride when Elizabeth described her father's successful experiment with a version of Tull’s seed drill. "Theory must always be tested against reality."
"A philosophy you apply to estate management at Pemberley, I believe," Lord Matlock observed. "Your yields have consistently outperform neighbouring properties, including my own."
"With considerable assistance from my steward," Mr. Darcy acknowledged. "Mr. Watson has been with the estate in various roles since my father's time, and possesses an encyclopaedic knowledge of the land. Though I will say we grow only a few crops, for the land is not as hospitable as it is further south. We rely nearly as much on sheep and horse breeding as we do the barley."
"Miss Bennet will find Pemberley quite different from Hertfordshire," Lady Spencer remarked from a little further down the table. "But the Peak has its own wild beauty."
"I look forward to seeing it," Elizabeth replied truthfully, for whether it was with Mr. Darcy or not, the more she learned of Derbyshire, the more desirous she was to see it. She would not confess, even to herself, that she would like to know more about the places that had shaped the man beside her.
At the other end of the table, Arabella was participating in the conversation with determination, though Elizabeth could see that her friend's smile was merely polite. When the discussionturned to military matters, Arabella fell silent entirely, her gaze fixed on her plate.
"Fitzwilliam mentioned similar concerns before his departure," Viscount Milton stated, seemingly unaware of the effect his words had on Miss Abernathy. "Though he was more hopeful about Wellington's strategy in the Peninsula."
"Fitzwilliam has always possessed a clear understanding of military tactics, even before he purchased his commission," Mr. Darcy observed. "His insights are nearly always accurate, which offers me some hope."
Elizabeth noticed how Mr. Darcy glanced briefly at Arabella as he spoke. When he turned back to the conversation, he deftly steered it towards less martial subjects.
"Though speaking of the Peninsula reminds me of the remarkable Spanish paintings Mrs. Fitzherbert has in her possession," he said smoothly. "Miss Abernathy, did you not particularly admire the Murillo?"
Elizabeth felt a rush of gratitude towards Mr. Darcy for his tactful intervention. Obviously he was possessed ofsomesocial adroitness. Arabella visibly rallied, offering a genuine if subdued response about the painting's composition. Soon she was drawn into a lively debate about the merits of various artistic schools, her melancholy partially dispelled.
“Oh, yes, the Murillo,” Mr. Fitzherbert cried from his end of the table. “You must all come see it before the end of the evening. I put up a fuss about it. Quite an expense, you know. But now that we have it installed, I must admit that my wife was right.”
“Oh, you must say that again, husband,” Mrs. Fitzherbert said with a laugh. “I hear it from you so rarely.”
Elizabeth smiled. She liked that among friends there was more freedom to take part in any of the conversations being held across the table.
"That was very kind of you," Elizabeth murmured to Mr. Darcy when the conversation around them had grown sufficiently general to allow for private exchange.
He knew precisely what she meant. "I merely observed a lady's discomfort and sought to alleviate it," he replied quietly. "Miss Abernathy deserves better than to be repeatedly reminded of her disappointment."
"You did warn me that you are observant," Elizabeth noted.
"Please,” he groaned playfully, “do not remind me. I said a good many stupid things in the park that day.” His gaze holding hers for a moment longer than strict propriety permitted. "I was rather nervous, not that it is an excuse."
“Nervous?” she whispered back.
“You are very pretty, Miss Bennet, and clever as well. I wished to impress you, but I never quite know what you are going to say or do. I was all at sea.”
Elizabeth was addressed by Lord Matlock then, and was unable to reply to Mr. Darcy. But his comment remained in her mind even as they all moved on to different conversations.
Dinner proceeded with the same pleasant mix of serious discussion and light-hearted exchange. Elizabeth found herself thoroughly enjoying the intellectual stimulation as well as the genuine warmth shown by most of the company. These were people of consequence, yes, but also of education and serious thinkers. She could imagine many such evenings in her future, engaging with ideas and forming connections beyond the limited society of Meryton.
When the ladies withdrew to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to their port, Mrs. Fitzherbert took Elizabeth's arm with maternal affection.
