“You will attend with your brother, I hope,” her ladyship said, in a tone that left no room for refusal, not as a question.
“We shall, your ladyship,” James replied, his voice steady, though inwardly he noted the ease with which attendance was assumed rather than requested.
James added, at her continued regard, that there were five brothers in all; that their father had provided for the education of three and continued to support two in their studies still, believing diligence and character to be as worthy of cultivation as inheritance. He spoke without complaint or display, stating the matter as a simple truth rather than a claim to merit.
“You are the eldest, I believe,” Lady Catherine said, as though confirming a fact already known to her.
“I am, your ladyship.”
“And your four brothers?”
“All presently at home in Hertfordshire, your ladyship,” James replied.
Lady Catherine’s brows lifted faintly. “Five sons are a considerable charge.”
“My father has always thought it his duty to provide them with the means to pursue their respective callings,” James said evenly. “Two are still engaged in their studies, as I mentioned. Father continues to support them while they do so.”
This answer drew a brief silence—not of disapproval, but of calculation.
Lady Catherine inclined her head once, as though setting the matter aside, and turned deliberately to Elias.
“And you, Mr. Bennet,” she said, “are one of those still dependent upon this arrangement.”
“I am, madam,” Elias replied, without hesitation.
“And you do not consider it an imposition?”
Elias met her gaze directly. “No, your ladyship. I consider it an investment—one my father makes with discernment.”
Lady Catherine regarded him more closely now. “You speak with confidence,” she observed.
“With gratitude, rather,” Elias answered. “Had I been the heir, I might still have chosen study. James bears the weight of the estate; his role affords the rest of us the freedom to become useful.”
James turned toward him at once, surprise flickering across his features. “Elias—”
“It is true,” Elias continued calmly, his voice steady and sincere as he met Lady Catherine’s gaze without hesitation. “My brother could have followed any profession he pleased, had circumstances permitted. He has always been the abler steward of us all, and the kindest person I have ever met.”
This was spoken without flourish, without appeal, and yet its effect was immediate, the quiet conviction in his tone lending the words a weight that commanded attention.
Lady Catherine’s expression altered—not softened, but sharpened with interest, her eyes narrowing slightly as she regarded him with renewed appraisal. “You are generous in your estimation,” she said, her voice carrying a note of probing curiosity.
“I am accurate, your ladyship,” Elias replied, his tone firm yet respectful, a faint smile touching his lips that conveyed quiet confidence without presumption.
Georgiana Darcy, who had listened in composed silence until then, lifted her eyes at that moment, her attention newly fixed upon him with a subtle warmth that betrayed her quiet admiration for such unassuming sincerity.
“And the law,” Lady Catherine continued, her gaze remaining upon Elias with calculating intensity, “You propose to pursue it seriously.”
“I do, your ladyship,” he affirmed, his posture straight yet unassuming as he held her scrutiny with calm resolve.
“As a solicitor?” she pressed, her tone conveying the subtle distinction of rank that such a choice implied.
“In the first instance,” Elias replied evenly, his voice reflecting neither apology nor defensiveness. “And, should opportunity permit, I hope to advance further.”
“A barrister,” Lady Catherine repeated, letting the word linger on her tongue as though testing its weight and implications, her brows arching slightly in consideration that drew a faint, thoughtful nod from Georgiana in the background.
“If I prove equal to the calling,” Elias replied. His voice was calm, but the undercurrent of conviction was unmistakable. “The law, to my mind, should be more than a ladder to advantage. It ought to serve justice—truly serve it—and be applied with as much conscience as knowledge. I hope to be of use where clarity is most needed, and where firmness may offer protection rather than punishment.”
There was no hesitation in his tone, no hint of self-effacement meant to flatter. His words were measured, not modest; principled, not politics.
