Chapter 9
Pantry
Longbourn
The Following Day
Elizabeth sat next to a simple, worn oak desk, which held a ledger and two lit wax candles.
A small window high on the wall did not give sufficient light for Elizabeth to see the book open before her, and the columns of neatly written figures marching down the page, and she moved one of the candles closer.
The tiny room, with its bookshelves and desk and single chair, was a familiar one to her and all her sisters, and while it was technically Mrs. Hill’s domain, all the Bennet ladies sat here in turn once a month.
Elizabeth knew that it was not the common custom for the mistresses of estates to require their daughters to study the ledgers of their housekeepers, but Mrs. Bennet had required all of her children to do exactly that as soon as they were able.
Elizabeth had never much minded; figures did not daunt her, and she thought it was sensible to learn how to manage a household.
Now, knowing what she did of her maternal grandfather, her mother’s requirement made even more sense.
Viscount Langdon’s impecunious ways had brought trouble on himself, his estate, his family, and his dependents.
Mrs. Bennet, who had personally suffered so much from his improvidence, was earnest in her desire that her children not repeat his mistakes through foolishness or ignorance.
One day a month in rotation, each sister sat in Mrs. Hill’s nook to pore over her ledgers and accounts.
They had discovered the costs and fluctuations of the prices of beef, and candles, and hams, and shoe-blacking, and linen, and gowns, and ribbons.
They had learned of the annual wages given to the maids and footmen, the grooms and gardeners, and to Mr. and Mrs. Hill themselves.
Rarely was a mistake found, for Mrs. Hill was a conscientious woman and good at her job, but even the most conscientious record keeper might slip once or twice.
It therefore was part of the girls’ duty, in looking over the books, to ensure that no such error had been made.
In large part, though, the purpose was to prepare each of the Bennet girls for the day when they would be mistresses of their own homes and would need to know such things as the cost of candles and wood and foodstuffs.
Elizabeth genuinely enjoyed the task. It interested her, comparing the prices of household goods over the years, seeing how much wages were paid to each of the servants.
Solely in the light of Longbourn’s income, the wages they paid their servants seemed little enough individually.
Ten pounds for each of the maids, and twice that for each of the footmen, fifteen pounds for the stable hands and gardener, as well as forty pounds to their housekeeper and fifty pounds to her husband, the butler.
Of course, the servants also required food and blankets and clothing as well.
Again, those were small expenses relative to the earnings of the estate, but together they totaled up to a reasonable portion of Longbourn’s income of two thousand pounds a year.
Today, Elizabeth found that she could no longer look at these sums solely in the light of Longbourn’s income.
Even combined, the total did not begin to approach the annual earnings her inheritance, some ￡3,500 a year, which was almost twice the income of Longbourn.
The Bennets had always been comfortable, and Elizabeth had known, to a certain degree, that this was not necessarily the case for all of their neighbors.
Longbourn was second only to Netherfield in consequence in the neighborhood, and in income alike.
Five daughters could be considered to put a strain on the budget, perhaps, but not an insurmountable one, plainly.
It was still odd to think that Elizabeth, in particular, would be far more than comfortable.
The servants; Mr. and Mrs. Hill, the maids and stableboys and footmen; all worked hard for their wages, from before dawn to after dusk.
Elizabeth, by no greater effort than having been born the grandchild of a very wealthy man, would be exorbitantly rich.
She was determined, however, to be prudent in how she used her funds.
A Season for two ladies would be expensive, but it was an expense she could easily afford to bear.
She would still have a fantastic sum at her disposal and a wide range of opportunities.
Should she choose, she could purchase a house for herself and her mother and her sister, or even a small estate.
The sad reality was that Mr. Bennet would almost certainly predecease his daughters by a considerable amount, and perhaps even his wife.
It would be well for them to have somewhere to go, and even better if it were a locale with which they were already familiar, where they were comfortable.
An estate would be costly, but it would also guarantee an income and would give the ladies a certain occupation.
On the other hand, might it not be better to seek good husbands for her sisters?
A Season would help considerably in facilitating marriages for herself and Jane, but what of the younger three?
A considerably higher amount in their dowries could not but render them more eligible, but might not that money be better served paying for Seasons for them?
And what of Mrs. Bennet? Would it not be well to see that she too was provided for?
She might outlast her husband by some several years, and while Mr. Bennet had generously provided her with a small marriage portion, it was not enough for her to live in the style to which she was accustomed.
Elizabeth could easily see to it that her mother need never want for any comfort that money could provide.
A rather morbid thought occurred to her; she wondered what would happen to the money if some terrible accident were to befall her.
Would it go to Mrs. Bennet? She was the only grandchild, the only relative she knew, of the man whose fortune it had been.
There was no further paternal line for it to follow.
It seemed odd for one of her youth to consider a Will, but perhaps it would be wise of her to consult with Mr. Phillips on the matter.
A Will was hardly the oddest part of her new outlook on life.
The whole affair seemed very overwhelming, and Elizabeth felt uncharacteristically baffled as she considered it. There were so many possibilities that had, until recently, never even occurred to her.
She shook herself suddenly. As strange and fantastic as her fortune was, it was not the most pressing matter in Elizabeth’s life at the moment.
The ledger still lay open before her as she sat and wool-gathered, the candles steadily consuming their wax and wicks.
She had figures to attend to, and time was passing as she considered less urgent subjects.
Mrs. Hill would be wanting her pantry back soon.
Mentally shaking herself, Elizabeth bent once more over the book, studying the notations there.
Dinner for the next week had been ordered, and the servants had been paid their quarterly wages…
***
Breakfast Parlor
Netherfield Hall
The Next Day
Saturday, 19th October 1811
Breakfast at Netherfield was consistently served at eleven o'clock.
This suited Serena well, for it gave her plenty of morning leisure to engage in her own pursuits and work up a hearty appetite.
Several hours of writing on her novel had done just that, and now she sat working her way steadily through a plate of ham and eggs and toast. Georgiana sat beside her, having arrived only a minute earlier than Serena, and Mr. Bingley and his younger sister sat across from them, likewise provided with tea and toast and full plates.
Miss Bingley was in full flow, and Serena was ignoring her to focus on enjoying her breakfast. Though most of the servants were locals, Serena was certain that the cook must have been brought down from London by the Bingleys.
Every meal was invariably excellent; the food delicious, perfectly cooked, and delicately seasoned to just the right flavor.
Serena was grateful, especially as she sat sipping the thick, rich hot chocolate in her cup, but she was a trifle disapproving.
She had already noticed that Miss Bingley always spent lavishly; either her tastes ran to the expensive, or she sought to impress her well-born guests.
In Serena’s opinion, likely both reasons were true.
In either case, Serena thought the lady to be unwise.
The woman was an inveterate social climber and spent money like water.
Dinner at Pemberley was always good, and filling, and plentiful.
No one ever left the table hungry or unsatisfied, but neither did every meal have all the complexity of a dinner party.
And Serena and her sister did not wear silk gowns at every hour of the day.
Seeing as they were not yet out, sensible muslin or wool did quite well for them, but even once they were out in society, they would not opt to have a dozen gowns made of fine silk.
Miss Bingley sought to emulate the habits of the wealthy haut ton, who flaunted their wealth and spent outrageously on every luxury.
Such behavior did not impress a Darcy of Pemberley, who had been raised to shoulder the weighty knowledge of their responsibility to their estate and their people.
Not only their tenants, but the nearby town of Lambton was dependent on the Darcys to plow money back into the land and people.
They were wealthy, and they could easily afford the extravagant habits that were all the fashion in Town and that Miss Bingley could only grasp for, but no Darcy would indulge in such behavior.