Chapter Six #2
She asked whether Uncle Gardiner was willing to sell a percentage of the business to her in exchange for enough money to expedite his expansion.
Knowing what he did about Elizabeth’s project in Kensington, he had agreed to speak with her.
With Aunt Olivia’s encouragement, they had each traveled halfway to meet in Coventry.
There, after a full day of discussions, they had struck a bargain.
Elizabeth expected to make a good return, but if she did not, she had already determined that she would not repine the loss.
Uncle Gardiner was family, after all, and she never invested more than she could afford to lose.
Elizabeth looked up to see her aunt watching her. Aunt Olivia tipped her head slightly to one side. “You seem distracted, dear.”
“My apologies, Aunt. I simply…” How was she to explain how her mind moved so quickly from one problem to the next?
Fortunately, Aunt Olivia did not require it. She simply nodded and looked out the window, leaving Elizabeth to her thoughts.
No, she was well-settled and had no need of a dowry.
Truly, there was no need to marry at all, and many reasons against. As an unmarried woman, she would no longer require a trustee once she came of age, though some men would not do business with her on principle.
To marry, though, might mean losing control of everything she had built.
She knew how useless even a well-written contract might be if her husband changed his mind once they wed and decided she should turn over the profits to him.
Her cousin John would make sure that never happened.
Still, what man could she trust enough to marry?
Could she find another man like Uncle Phillip?
“Odds too low, standards too high,” she mumbled to herself, though her romantic heart still hoped to marry for love.
The carriage hit a rut, and a question suddenly occurred to her.
Surprising her aunt, she blurted out, “Why are you telling me only now? We are nearly to Longbourn. I wish to discuss this.”
“That is why I am telling you now, so close to Longbourn,” her aunt replied with an air of satisfaction that irritated her niece.
“You must spend some time alone with this knowledge and then, when you come to London, we will speak again.” She frowned.
“Or perhaps I will write with some of the particulars.”
Soon, they were rattling up the gravel drive to Longbourn, and there was no more time for nerves.
Elizabeth drank in the sight of the house she had not seen in slightly more than ten years and was pleased that the entire family was outside to greet them.
The door opened, Papa stepping up to hand first Aunt Olivia and then her out of the carriage, and then they stood, watching each other silently for a moment before Papa introduced Aunt Olivia to Mama and the younger girls who had not yet met her.
As soon as they were finished, Jane grasped both Elizabeth’s hands with delight, and Elizabeth leaned in to kiss her cheek.
Jane had been lovely at seventeen, but at twenty-two she was stunning.
Her heart-shaped face was framed with golden ringlets, her complexion was smooth and clear, her lips perfectly formed in a red bow, her entire air one of innocence and affection.
Elizabeth preferred more complex subjects, but her first thought was that most artists would quite literally come to blows over the right to paint her eldest sister’s portrait.
The other girls were not her equal, but each was handsome in her own way, all with varying shades of golden hair and fair complexions.
She wondered whether Aunt Olivia would agree to invite Jane to town in the spring.
Jane had written of wishing for a family of her own and wondering whether she would ever have one.
There were so few eligible men near Longbourn.
Surely Jane would be better able to attract a suitor in town.
“Oh, Jane,” she said happily, “it is wonderful to see you again.” She held out her hand to Mary, “And you as well, Mary, all grown up!”
Mary blushed, sparkling eyes displaying her pleasure at being remembered.
“What about your old papa, Lizzy?” Thomas called to her cheerfully from his place by Aunt Olivia’s side. “Have you not a welcome for me?”
“Of course, Papa!” she laughed, and stepped to greet him with a kiss. “And Mama?” she asked, holding out her hand.
Fanny took it carefully and gave it a squeeze. “I am so pleased to have you here with us, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth smiled as she evaluated her mother’s expression. She saw only a tentative affection. She gave her mother a kiss on each cheek and said in her ear, “I am happy to be here, Mama.”
Fanny nodded and waved the two youngest girls forward. Elizabeth smiled, “You are both quite grown up as well, sisters!”
They gave her small smiles. From Jane’s apt descriptions, Elizabeth knew that Kitty, though older, was shorter and slighter than Lydia. Lydia, though only just fifteen, had already come into her figure, and a womanly one it was. Of all the Bennet girls, she was the tallest.
“Welcome, Elizabeth,” Kitty said pleasantly. “Jane reads out all your letters, so we feel as though we know you very well.”
Lydia laughed, and the sound, a choking sort of snort, was jarring. The younger girl straightened up, however, when a heavyset older woman with gray hair pulled up in a severe hairstyle cleared her throat. Ah, thought Elizabeth, this must be Mrs. Grover.
“My apologies, Elizabeth,” Lydia said, abashed, “but you were very honest about… everything,” she said, biting her lower lip. “Your letters are so jolly!”
Elizabeth took them both by a hand and drew them to her. “Jane has told me much about you as well, so I will tell you that the letters were only the beginning!” she whispered gaily. “We shall all have stories to tell whilst I am here.”
The girls schooled their expressions as they separated, but Thomas and Olivia were observing them with the same knowing expression. “Be careful Lizzy does not lead them into scrapes, Thomas,” Olivia said merrily, shaking her head, “for she is just the girl to do it.”
“And they are just the girls to follow,” Thomas mumbled, meeting his aunt’s suddenly sharp look with a wink.
The groom from Weymouth House who had been riding Kensington on the final leg of the journey dismounted near the Russell carriage.
Mr. Bennet motioned to the stable hand who was approaching, “Please take…” he turned to Elizabeth and raised an eyebrow.
“Kensington,” Elizabeth said with a smile. Jane placed a hand on her arm.
“Oh, Lizzy,” she said, entranced, “she is beautiful.”
Her father chuckled. “An interesting name for an Arabian. Take Kensington to the stables, Peter.”
Peter made to take the reins from Kensington’s groom, but the man held a hand out to stop him. The two spoke in hushed tones. Eventually, Peter simply led the way back to the stables.
Elizabeth turned to Jane. “You may ride her if you like.” She smiled as Jane’s face lit up. “Just let Jacob get her settled in. She will try all her tricks first, as she likes to have her own way.”
Aunt Olivia smiled.
“Yes, ma’am,” Elizabeth said, giving voice to her aunt’s thought, “as does her owner.” She turned back to Jane. “You shall have to be firm with her.”
“You, Lizzy, or the mare?” Jane teased.
“Well done, Jane!” Aunt Olivia cried, delighted.
“Thank you, Aunt Olivia,” Jane replied, smiling at Elizabeth and raising her eyebrows.
“Well, well,” said Fanny, fluttering around her girls like a mother hen, “let us go inside and get reacquainted with your sister, girls.” She faced Olivia and said in a strained voice, “Would you care to have tea with us, Aunt Olivia?”
Olivia shook her head. “That is a very kind offer, Fanny, I thank you. I should like to sit with you while Jacob sees to the horses. However, we must soon be on my way to London. I have an appointment tomorrow morning I must keep.”
Elizabeth, watching the interaction, could not miss the relief in her mother’s eyes, and sent her aunt an apologetic glance. Aunt Olivia was still looking at Fanny, though, and Elizabeth saw only compassion in her expression. Her fingers tingled, and she brushed them against her skirt.
The group swept noisily into the house past Mr. Hill, who stood by the door.
Elizabeth flashed a quick smile at him as she followed her family, and she was sure he winked at her, but his face resembled Hodge’s painting of the Easter Island monuments now: blank, flat, stony.
She made sure her aunt was settled before she sat herself.
All the girls remained standing until their aunt was seated, though Lydia had moved as though to sit before she caught Mrs. Grover’s eye and flushed pink.
Elizabeth believed it an error rather than a slight, and she did not call attention to it.
When they were all sitting, Mama wrung her hands and then laced her fingers together.
“How was your journey, Aunt Olivia?” she asked stiffly.
“It was arduous, Fanny,” Aunt Olivia replied honestly. “I am not as easy a traveler as I used to be.”
“It was long even for me, Aunt,” Elizabeth added reflexively. It had been three full days in the carriage in addition to this morning, and she was in desperate need of exercise, not sitting. “No matter how dry the roads or nice the carriage, traveling is still tiring.”
“Was the carriage nice, then?” Mama asked, her tone almost accusatory.
Elizabeth stilled her hand. She would not rub her forehead though she dearly wished she could. “Yes, Mama.”