Page 6 of Count the Cost (The Secrets of Elizabeth Bennet #2)

D espite her late night — or rather, early morning — Elizabeth was up at her usual time and heading for Oakham Mount. She strode out, breathing deeply.

Mr. Darcy had been right, although she would never have admitted it to him; the assembly rooms were really much too small, and as it got very warm, the aroma was not the most attractive she could imagine.

However, it had been an interesting evening, if rather too tiring. After the supper dance, Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to sit out and think over what their conversation had been; but she had not a single dance which was not taken after Mr. Darcy had asked for the supper dance.

She had been exceptionally glad when it was time to climb into the carriage and go home.

Mama was full of excitement and glee about Jane and Mr. Bingley — “ two dances, Jane,” and also that Mr. Darcy had asked Elizabeth for the supper sets.

She could almost wish she had been sitting out for most of the evening; then Mama would have nothing to say about her.

But her walks out in the dew-laden landscape always refreshed her, and she let her mind leave the evening just past, and relaxed.

Mr. Darcy had been dealt with and, after her explanation, did not seem suspicious of her wearing a Gardiner fabric. And Mr. Bingley had been very attentive to Jane. That was the pertinent thing.

She hoped Mr. Darcy would not find out that her aunt was in fact Mrs. Gardiner; it might take some explaining as to why she had not admitted it at the time, and she would have to think about that.

Hopefully, she would not have to explain it this morning. The Netherfield party were likely to keep town hours and might well rise even later after the assembly.

She reached the top and stood at the brow of the hill, looking out over the two estates, Longbourn and Netherfield. The fields and lanes were still deserted, but it would not be long before the tenants would begin to work their land.

She thought back to where Mr. Darcy had talked about how extortionate the prices were at Gardiner’s. He did not know it, but they were her prices.

She hardly liked being referred to as an extortionist, and wished she could talk to her aunt and uncle soon.

When she was back at Longbourn, she would look up the word in the dictionary.

After all, no one was forced to pay her prices, were they?

There could not be anything wrong about what she was doing, or Uncle would surely have said so.

She gave a soft laugh; Mr. Darcy had been so suspicious at the beginning, but she thought he began to believe her; that she was not in the marriage market, and when she described herself as a bluestocking.

Regarding the classics, of course; nothing that could be properly described as unladylike, except perhaps that it was too intense.

And he had listened to her opinions. He had given her his undivided attention, unlike most of the local young gentlemen who were not really interested.

His attention had pleased her, and she frowned.

But it would have been a lot worse if she had told him about climbing trees, or other dreadful things.

Not that she climbed trees nowadays — well, not often, and not high.

She knew the cost of damaging fabrics, after all.

If she had to replace one of her country dresses, it would mean less pin money to invest.

She was still putting aside as much money as she could — her sisters must be provided with dowries, after all, as Papa was not inclined to do so.

She sighed, and sat on the bench. Papa really ought to be less indolent; she did not see why she needed to spend so much time cajoling him into making Longbourn more prosperous.

But she had gained his permission to encourage some of the tenants to change to a four-course rotation system, and the four farms which had made the attempt were proving its efficacy.

But it was difficult work, persuading men who were perhaps too hidebound in their opinions to change long-held methods.

Elizabeth would ask to go back to London soon. There was more to do there, and, when she was there, she did not have to live a lie.

A few moments later, she knew she could not go back just yet.

If Mr. Bingley was to pursue Jane, then Elizabeth would be needed to make sure her sister was aware of the significant disadvantage of his sisters’ presence in their marriage, especially if the man was disinclined to see the cost to his future wife’s serenity.

Soon, she bade farewell to the landscape, and turned for home. If she had to remain in Hertfordshire, she had some letters to write.

I am sorry, Uncle, but I fear I need to remain in Hertfordshire rather longer than I wished to.

Mr. Bingley’s sisters, especially the younger, unmarried one, are not kind to those of us they consider beneath them, and however amiable Mr. Bingley is, I cannot imagine he has a strong enough personality to check them, and Jane would be made very unhappy.

Mr. Darcy on the other hand, is a very different gentleman. He would certainly not suffer their disdain of his wife; but since Miss Bingley is in desperate pursuit of that position, it is rather amusing to see.

He is very much aware of the danger he is in, and we had a rather irreverent conversation about the precautions against compromise such gentlemen need to take — in the middle of supper at the assembly, no less!

But I had to distract him somehow; I was wearing the deep crimson silk, and he recognised that it must have come from my exclusives. Apparently he bought a shawl there for his young sister last week, and he complained that it emptied his bank account. He also said the prices were extortionate.

I was anxious after he had said that; it sounds such an immoral word. But I looked it up this morning, and it means forcing a person to pay too-high prices.

So, I am not an extortionist, am I? People do not have to buy the goods? Or are gentlemen forced by their ladies?

I have been exceedingly worried, Uncle. I wish to make my fortune rather more morally than to be accused of that.

Your affectionate niece

Lizzy

Once she had written that letter, she felt better, and decided that she would pay the cost of an express. It would be worth it for peace of mind. She also sat down to write to Mr. Reed.

Three years ago, her uncle had offered her the chance to employ the young man directly for her own business. He had laughed at her surprise.

“He is an active and intelligent man, Lizzy. I cannot give him the occupation and variety he needs to be content here, and so I would lose him to another. Searching the country for skilled artisans is much more to his liking, and you cannot do that as a single lady.”

Mr. Reed hailed from the north country, and he had found a number of people who were delighted to be offered rather more than they had hoped for, and as much work as they had wanted.

I would like you to travel to the north on your next trip, Mr. Reed.

I do not think we need any more skilled needlewomen at present, unless you find someone exceptional whom I need to employ or risk losing them.

Instead I am looking for those who are artistic — I am wondering if we can make fans decorated with English scenes and wildlife, rather than oriental ones, which are far too common now.

If you can source suitable delicate ladies’ fan bases, too, that might help.

Send me a sample or two, and if I like them, they could be shipped directly to the artist. Please ensure that each artist is aware the designs must be very different from one another, and the fan must be painted white before being decorated.

I would also like to source an artist who can paint on fine silks, so that we may also provide fans covered in the same fabric as the one sold to make a ball gown. I believe we could have a design painted on the silk for the fan and this will add perceived quality to the fabric.

I have been thinking of blues and greens, which will distinguish them from the prevailing reds and golds of the oriental styles; but I have also begun to wonder if we might be able to make a variety of fans to match different colours of ladies’ ensembles.

Then they may wish to buy several, to go with different gowns.

I will write to my uncle about that, but, if you can begin looking for artists who are skilled enough, as well as for fan bases, the details can be pondered over while you look.

Of course, if you see any other opportunity which might be good to undertake, please let me know at once via Mr. Gardiner in the usual way.

Elizabeth put her pen down, and gazed out of the window.

Could fans made in this country be elegant enough for her business?

Oriental ones had such delicate workings, she could not imagine how they were made.

Another thought struck her: perhaps the same design could be stitched onto fabric for the fans as well.

There was a knock at her chamber door. “Lizzy, are you going to come down? Mama is wondering why you haven’t appeared yet, and we are expecting Lady Lucas and Charlotte.” Jane smiled sweetly.

“Of course.” Elizabeth glanced at the clock. “I had forgotten the time while writing my letters.” She folded the unfinished letter. “Please might you tell Mama I will only be two or three minutes?”

Carefully she placed the unfinished letter for Mr. Reed into her work box and locked it. Then she hurried downstairs and gave the letter for her uncle with the requisite coins to the housekeeper. “Can you ask Patterson to get this sent express, please, Mrs. Hill?”