Chapter 16
Bingley hurried into his study to retrieve additional funds from the wall safe.
He and Lady Arabella and Caroline were to go to the shops, and he wished to ensure that he had enough on hand to cover any purchases at shops where he did not have accounts.
There was an air of disuse about the room, and he absently noted the layer of dust on the pile of letters he had received from his steward.
The first report the man had sent had been so dry and yawn-inducing that he had not finished above half, so he had not bothered opening any of the others.
The season was much too entertaining to give him time to attend to the dreariness of reading of every move the man made.
Perhaps one day, when the season slowed, he would skim them just so that he could answer Darcy truthfully when he asked about his estate.
How Darcy could spend hours every day pouring over such things was inconceivable to him.
He was comfortable with Darcy’s endorsement; the man knew what he was about.
He swept the pile into a drawer so that the maids would be able to dust and retrieved the purse, not giving another thought to Ivy Well and Mr. Yates.
“Did you send another?” Lady Arabella sniggered as he joined them, wrapping herself about his person.
“Of course!” Caroline crowed. “You should have read the despair in her last pathetic missive. I shall give it to you when we return, and we can have a good laugh.”
“She has not read the papers I would guess. That is the missive which I look forward to!” Lady Arabella clapped with wicked glee and leaned forward to capture Bingley’s mouth, ignoring her friend’s sniggers.
Had Bingley had a thought in his head, he still would not have bothered to enquire who they were speaking of; he did not wish to know. Their mean-spirited gossip often made him uncomfortable and he found it best to ignore it.
Submitted for publication at 6d:
The ton shopping on Bond Street was treated to yet another scene by the pair of Lady A and CB.
An enormous amount was spent by the pair as they caroused through the shops frivolously spending CB’s deep purse on all manner of jewelry, fripperies, and gowns.
One wonders if the Baron has lost his fortune, she is relying so heavily upon her paramour’s.
One also questions the thought process of CB as his supposedly innocent unmarried sister is a constant companion in all of their escapades.
The biggest question: who would marry such a fast woman?
But then, at the age of five and twenty, perhaps she has given up hope of a match.
There were several broken pieces of pottery in the Bingley household when that little tidbit was added to her advertisement. It appeared that someone at the papers was unhappy with her submissions.
∞∞∞
Jane set aside the papers which she found herself manically perusing each morning.
She had them brought to her chambers first thing as she did not wish to be caught unawares by another publication in front of her family.
She shook out her skirts when she rose and fetched her reticule and bonnet before going down to the steward’s office.
“Are you ready, Mr. Yates?” she asked after knocking on the jam.
“Certainly,” he exclaimed, gathering up the last of his documents into an oiled pouch. “The carriage should be ready by now. Did you send for Mrs. Jardine?”
“Yes, she is in the foyer with my outerwear.”
“Excellent.” He held out his hand, indicating she should proceed him, then followed after her at a polite distance.
They gathered their outerwear and Mr. Yates assisted the ladies into the comfortable carriage before mounting his horse to ride beside them.
Jane could only appreciate the man’s unflinching protection of her reputation.
Considering her husband’s notoriety, it was even more important that her own reputation remained spotless.
The horses pranced in their traces as the carriage rolled down the drive.
Within half an hour they entered Cheadle and Jane could not be blind to the dirty looks of her neighbors as they watched her carriage pass by.
She silently wished that her carriage was less ostentatiously obvious for that exact reason.
When Mr. Hulls pulled the horses to a stop, John set the stair and assisted her to step down to the cobbled street. Mr. Yates left Peter to tie his horse to the carriage and pointed out the solicitor’s office on the other side of the street.
“Feel free to do some of your own shopping, Amelie, and I shall meet you in half an hour or so,” Jane instructed her maid before stepping across the road and leading Mr. Yates and John into the solicitor’s office.
Once they entered, Mr. Yates took the lead and announced to the clerk that they had an appointment to speak with Mr. Thompson concerning Ivy Well.
“Indeed!” the young man exclaimed, jumping to his feet to bow to them. “You are expected! Please, let me prepare some tea for you, Mrs. Bingley. Would you care for something stronger, Mr. Yates?”
They both refused a drink and the young man led them into the inner office and left them to await Mr. Thompson. It was not long before the man hurried into the room, wiping crumbs from his waistcoat as he came.
“The wife always insists that we eat meals together,” he explained sheepishly. “I apologize for your wait.”
“Not at all, Mr. Thompson,” Jane replied in her soothing tones. “It is a mark in your favor that you give consideration to her feelings on the matter.”
The man smiled gratefully at her and settled into his seat behind the desk. “What can I do for you both?”
Mr. Yates pulled the marriage settlement from the pouch and passed it across the desk.
“We are hoping that you can release the accounts to Mrs. Bingley based upon this contract. Mr. Bingley has abandoned the estate going on two months now, and has not answered a single letter, even the ones that were sent by private courier or express.”
Mr. Thompson read through the contract with an earnestness which impressed Mr. Yates.
He nodded as he turned the last page. “This is a well written and comprehensive contract. It is obvious that your protectors had your best interests at heart, Mrs. Bingley. I am sorry that your husband has proven feckless. I will gladly give over the ownership of the accounts as soon as you have an order from the court to do so.”
Jane’s heart dropped to her toes. They had spoken of the probable need to file in London, but she had held out the slightest hope that it would not be needed.
“We understand,” Mr. Yates replied for her. “Thank you for your time. I shall gather up our information and head to London within the week.”
“You will be well in the meantime?” Mr. Thompson asked, a worried frown on his face.
“You read the whole document… Mrs. Bingley’s uncle, who is her solicitor, will be enacting the renumeration clause now as well, so Mrs. Bingley will be able to support the estate until we can gain official control which will allow her to make the important decisions.”
“That will have repercussions,” he warned her.
“I understand,” Jane replied. “But my name is already being whispered in Town and by any who receive the London papers. At least this way I shall be able to protect my people and my daughter despite my own undeserved reputation.”
“Your stoicism is remarkable, Mrs. Bingley,” the solicitor declared, rising when she did. “I shall be glad to assist you once I am able.”
Jane thanked him with grim forbearance and led her steward from the office.
“Do not lose your conviction, Mrs. Bingley,” Mr. Yates murmured as they crossed the street once more. “This is only what we expected, not the set back that it seems.”
“I do know that,” Jane sighed, brushing away a loose lock of hair which had escaped its pins.
“It is… frustrating, I suppose, but not surprising. I am merely stiffening my spine for the trials ahead. At least I shall not be in London, drawing the attention of the gossips. If I never travel there again, I shall not repine.”
Mr. Yates ground his teeth in impotence but said nothing else, escorting her and John to the drapers to find Jardine before bidding his soon-to-be employer farewell.
“Godspeed, Mr. Yates,” Jane replied as he rode away.
“Mrs. Bingley!” Amelie waved from the door of the haberdashers.
Jane flinched as she felt eyes turning toward her, but she squared her shoulders and smiled through her distress as she waved back. “Did you find what you needed, Amelie?”
“Yes, indeed!” the woman exclaimed, holding up a handful of ribbons.
“Thank you so much for allowing me to purchase some things for my sweet Genevieve. She will be so pleased to see her new room when she arrives. The servants are all very pleased that there will be a servant’s nursery for our children.
I know that Mrs. Toole is very pleased that her children will close by.
Her little Jenny is already talking of tea parties with my daughter. ”
“I am very glad you are all so happy with the plans,” Jane replied. “Do you have any other errands or are you ready to return to Ivy Well?”
“Little Miss Bingley is likely missing her mama,” Jardine declared, “Let us return before she makes her discontent known to all.”
Jane’s smile became genuine at the thought of her babe and as she stepped up into the carriage, thanking John for his assistance, she did not notice the thawing taking place in the minds of her neighbors who had observed her interactions with her steward and servants.