Chapter 25
Mrs. Ashcombe had made it her business to watch for Mr. Harrison’s arrival.
Ever since she had overheard Mrs. Hardwicke speaking to her maid regarding the gentleman, she had grown much more alert.
On the last visit he had lingered while taking his leave, filling Mrs. Hardwicke’s mind with all sorts of insinuations regarding Darcy.
It had been a ‘lucky coincidence’ that Mrs. Ashcombe had been in the garden just out of sight but very much in hearing distance to understand all that had been said.
She had warned Darcy about the man, but her nephew was a tiresome fellow going about everything with honour and delicacy, when confrontation with the miscreant would have better served his purpose.
For a man who had been rejected, Darcy seemed a little too confident in Miss Bennet’s regard, which made Mrs. Ashcombe doubt his purported good sense.
She had always had a low opinion of the Darcy men’s capacity for manipulation and underhanded tactics, thus she had appointed herself her nephew’s saviour from the duplicitous Harrison.
To that effect, she had sent Miss Bennet with a maid and her young cousin to the Dower house to assist with the renovations while she herself had taken up residence in the drawing room intending to be present throughout the calling hour.
Mr. Harrison was used to succeeding in his schemes mainly due to Lady Greystone’s sympathies and Lord Greystone’s desire to please his wife.
The man had slowly developed an inflated view of his intelligence and with Mrs. Hardwicke being a lady and a widow without any male protector, he considered her gullible, helpless, and easy to work upon.
He came calling at Willowmere with a confident air and was surprised to find Mrs. Ashcombe in attendance.
He had not met the lady till now and was slightly uneasy with her sharp eyes staring at him.
Mrs. Hardwicke introduced the gentleman to Mrs. Ashcombe and called for tea.
“Mr. Harrison, I understand your father is a gentleman, and that you were afforded an education befitting one.” Mrs. Ashcombe commented as they all sat down.
“Yes, madam. I graduated from Oxford,” Mr. Harrison replied, pride evident in his voice.
“Then I am surprised that you are unaware of the indelicacy of calling so frequently at a house in mourning.”
“I beg your pardon,” Harrison replied, surprised at the lady’s tone.
“You heard me, sir. Even my own nephew, Darcy, who is a cousin by marriage to Mrs. Hardwicke, has refrained from calling so frequently. I wonder at your motives, Mr. Harrison.”
“I am just being neighbourly; Mrs. Hardwicke is well respected in the area and we all sympathise with her loss.”
“I do not see any other such dedicated neighbours,” Mrs. Ashcombe replied.
“Mrs. Hardwicke, I hope you understand that my motives are entirely honourable and not nefarious. I am here to inquire after your well-being and nothing else,” Harrison replied, flustered by the older lady’s direct accusation and hoping for Mrs. Hardwicke to intercede on his behalf.
“Mr. Harrison, I thank you for your concerns, and though I do not wish to assign any blame to your conduct, I cannot fully disagree with Mrs. Ashcombe. I hope you understand that your frequent presence here may, however unintentionally, give rise to gossip,” Mrs. Hardwicke replied.
Until now she had given very little thought to Mr. Harrison’s own motives, for he had never been of any interest to her.
It was only Mr. Darcy’s conduct that she had been concerned with.
Though she suspected Mrs. Ashcombe’s objections may have been in defence of her nephew, she could not in good conscience neglect her concerns.
Mr. Harrison, offended at this unprecedented rudeness towards him, was quick to take his leave as he muttered to Mrs. Hardwicke that she should be careful in selecting her friends.
“My dear Sarah, I hope you are not offended. Men are apt to see widows as vulnerable, and to exploit them for their benefit,” Mrs. Ashcombe said as soon as Mr. Harrison had left.
“I thank you, but I do not think there is anything for Mr. Harrison to exploit.”
“You, my dear, are an honourable lady, but not all men are of your late husband’s ilk. What you see and what a self-serving person may discover could be very different,” Mrs. Ashcombe replied cryptically as she finally left the drawing room, her purpose achieved.
Mrs. Hardwicke remained in the drawing room for a long while, deep in thought.
She had not appreciated the older lady’s meddling with a guest in her house, but she reasoned with herself not to be offended.
She may have a right to stay in the house for a year, but she was no longer its mistress.
Mr. Darcy was now master and his aunt had rightfully objected to a visitor who was disrespectful to her nephew.
She could not, in fairness, continue assigning blame and selfish motives to Mr. Darcy and his aunt.
They were in fact her husband’s family, while Mr. Harrison was an outsider.
She was reconsidering her whole acquaintance with Mr. Darcy when Elizabeth and Margaret walked in, full of gaiety and laughter.
“You look cheerful for someone who spent all her time with workmen.”
“That was just Lizzy, I was in the garden riding,” Margaret slumped on the settee.
“Since when do you ride?” her mother asked, surprised. Frederick had bought his daughter a gentle mare but Margaret had always eschewed riding as long as her father was not there to guide her.
“Oh! Mr. Darcy suggested it, and I was scared in the beginning but he explained that it was my responsibility as her mistress to exercise Blackie. He was so considerate, Mama, helping me trot in the garden; I was not even once scared.”
“I am happy that you had a good time my dear. Would you like to have some refreshments or would you prefer to change first?”
“I am too full to eat. Mr. Darcy had arranged a treat for me when we returned from the riding. The cakes were all delicious. I did eat my fill, you may ask Lizzy.”
Mrs. Hardwicke raised an eyebrow at her niece, “Margaret is right, Aunt, we did eat enough. Mr. Darcy had taken to reading Gulliver’s Travels to Margaret when you were sick and he read a few pages to both of us today as we had our tea,” Elizabeth responded to the silent inquiry, hoping to improve the gentleman’s image in front of her aunt.
It was late in the evening, Mrs. Hardwicke was having tea by herself in the parlour, she considered the events of the day and decided to have another forthright conversation with her niece.
She hoped that Mrs. Ashcombe, being a respectable lady, would also not approve if it appeared that her nephew was leading Elizabeth on; but until she could prove her doubts she would refrain from condemning the gentleman.
“Ma’am, Mr. Pratt is here, hoping to see you,” the housekeeper interrupted her thoughts.
“Do I know the gentleman, Mrs. Mason?” Mrs. Hardwicke replied, confused.
“He is the new steward, Ma’am. He came in when you were sick and as such has yet to meet you.”
Mrs. Hardwicke frowned at this, but asked the gentleman to be brought in.
“Mr. Pratt, I am sorry for my negligence but I was unaware Mr. Darcy had already appointed a new steward in place of Mr. Grant. I had only heard that a man was to come from Derbyshire.”
“Yes, ma’am, I do hail from Derbyshire. My cousin is the steward at Pemberley.
Mr. Grant started at his new position a week back, and hence I had to come here.
You see, till now, Mr. Grant was able to help me with the accounts but now that he is no longer available I will need the ledgers from this year to maintain the accounts. ”
Mrs. Hardwicke could hardly deny the man and asked a footman to fetch the required books and the gentleman was soon on his way.
She remembered Mr. Harrison’s claim that he had put himself forward for the role and had been refused.
Even if Mr. Darcy was not enamoured with Mr. Harrison, could he not find another local man with a better knowledge for estate management than this young boy from Derbyshire.
That Mr. Grant had left was not surprising; the man was not competent to handle the responsibility without a master’s guidance.
But to appoint such an inexperienced lad, only because he was related to the steward of Pemberley, indicated his desire to have someone naive and easily led.