For the first time since the conversation had turned toward profession and purpose, Mr. Darcy turned his head fully to regard him.
Lady Catherine narrowed her gaze. “You speak with uncommon certainty.”
Elias met her look without blinking. “Because uncertainty, madam, is seldom a virtue when principles are at stake.”
A silence followed—not long, but distinct. It was the kind of pause in which many young men might falter or attempt to soften their words. Elias did neither.
Lady Catherine did not rebuke him. Nor did she offer praise. But something in her posture shifted—a tilt of the chin, a sharper attention in the eyes—signs that she had begun to take him seriously, if only as a subject to assess.
Across the room, Georgiana’s gaze had never left his face. She had listened quietly, but now her attention deepened—not in astonishment, but in recognition.
Lady Catherine, noting none of this—or perhaps noting all—spoke again, more coolly now.
“You,” she said, turning again to Elias, “will do well to observe how influence operates among those born to exercise it. Such observation is invaluable to a gentleman intending to navigate a profession where reason alone does not always prevail.”
Elias inclined his head, respectful but unbowed. “I shall observe carefully, your ladyship. And with discernment, if I can.”
“I shall remember it, madam,” Elias answered, his tone even, though he refrained from adding what he thought: that influence, once observed, was seldom admired.
Tea continued, with Lady Catherine questioning James Bennet at length about the management of Longbourn—its income, its tenants, its prospects—interrupting twice to correct what she considered insufficient attention to detail. She then questioned Elias on his studies, his intentions, his acquaintances in the law, and his views on advancement, correcting him oncewhen his phrasing lacked sufficient deference to established authority.
Elias, when the conversation turned again to education and opportunity, spoke with unexpected firmness. He observed that his brother James possessed abilities equal to any scholarly pursuit, and that had duty not required him to remain at Longbourn as heir, he might have distinguished himself no less in study than those who had enjoyed greater leisure. The remark was offered without resentment, yet with a confidence that surprised even Lady Catherine, and it did not pass unnoticed by Georgiana, whose attention rested upon him with renewed interest.
Throughout it all, Darcy listened, Georgiana endured, Mr. Collins glowed, and the minutes passed, one after another, with the slow inevitability of Rosings itself.
And this was only the beginning.
Tea did not conclude with the first cups; cakes of several sorts and thin biscuits were added, for Lady Catherine never permitted a visit of consequence to move according to convenience rather than intention. When the initial service was complete, and the servants withdrew with the empty tray, she waited precisely long enough for the room to settle into expectation before ringing for them again, this time to order a second pot and the addition of thin bread-and-butter, cut, as she specified, more narrowly than usual.
“I have observed,” Lady Catherine remarked, as the maid hesitated with the knife, “that thick slices encourage carelessness. One must learn moderation even in small matters.”
“Yes, your ladyship,” the maid replied, colouring.
Mrs. Darcy’s eyes flickered toward her sister-in-law, then away again, her posture unaltered, though her fingers tightened upon her handkerchief. Georgiana remained still, her gaze lowered, her composure complete, but Elias Bennet, watching from his side of the room, marked the faint tightening of her shoulders and understood it for what it was: endurance, not indifference.
When the servants had withdrawn once more, Lady Catherine resumed as though no interruption had occurred.
“Mr. Bennet,” she said, addressing James again, “you spoke earlier of your tenants. How many families reside upon your estate?”
James answered with care, giving the number accurately and adding, at her prompting, an account of their holdings, rents, and recent harvests.
“And you reside among them?” Lady Catherine asked.
“I do, your ladyship.”
“That is as it should be. Absentee landlords invite disorder.” She paused, then added, with a glance that carried its own conclusion, “Though proximity alone does not guarantee authority.”
James inclined his head, accepting the rebuke without comment.
Lady Catherine turned next to Elias. “And you, Mr. Bennet, having chosen the law, must surely intend to practise in a sphere where influence may be exerted to advantage. Have you yet determined where you mean to establish yourself?”
“I have considered Canterbury, madam,” Elias replied, “and, should opportunity arise, London.”
“London?” Lady Catherine wondered. “A city full of ambition and excess. One must be careful not to lose oneself among men who mistake novelty for merit.”
“That is my intention, your ladyship,” Elias said evenly. He continued without pressure, describing the law not merely as a ladder to advancement, but as a means of applying justice with conscience as well as knowledge. Elias Bennet spoke with clarity and conviction, without deference to rank, yet without defiance, and it was this quiet self-assurance that most captured Georgiana’s notice. Darcy, too, regarded him with renewed interest, recognising in the young man not only principle, but steady resolve.
Lady Catherine regarded him with interest that was not unkind, but laced with a proprietary air, as though measuring how best to direct such promise toward purposes of her own.
