The Lowly Clerk
Would it kill them to stop dawdling before the cock crows?
Elizabeth stood in the mouth of a narrow alleyway, wishing desperately for a warmer cloak because it was wretchedly cold in the last week of November, while a ballgown and dancing slippers were hardly ideal for nighttime walking.
Not only were her toes frozen, but she was nearly certain she had at least a few cuts and bruises on her feet, and the slippers were ruined.
Ordinarily, she would have worn proper shoes and changed into slippers at the ball, but ordinary and Lydia were two concepts that did not peacefully coexist. Her youngest sister had ruined her own shoes and naturally borrowed Elizabeth’s far too late for her to do anything about it short of murder.
She had refrained, mostly because it would make them even later and bloodstained to boot, but she found herself regretting the lack of action.
She seemed to be regretting a lot of things lately!
She stood in the alley waiting for her aunt and uncle Philips to leave for the ball.
Her aunt wished to be the first to arrive, while her uncle preferred not to go at all.
They eventually compromised on being neither the first nor the last. Unfortunately, that left Elizabeth cooling her heels in the alleyway waiting for them to leave.
Her feet were bad enough from walking the half mile to Meryton, and she was not about to subject them to another mile after dark in dancing slippers.
She was not even certain she wanted to return to Longbourn ever, but for the moment she just wanted out of the cold.
Once her uncle departed, she could sneak in the back door and wait in the law office without bothering their servants.
If she got cold or hungry, she could light her own fire or ask for help, but for the moment, she just wanted to be invisible.
If she had to walk the rest of the way home, she could always borrow her aunt’s cloak and boots.
She knew she must eventually return to Longbourn, leave for her uncle’s home in town, or both in rapid succession—but for the moment she just wanted somewhere warm and private to think. Even returning to town would require a trip to Longbourn to get money and a few items of clothing.
After standing and freezing for close to an hour, motion caught Elizabeth's eye, and she was only half-surprised by the result. Mr Philips had a new clerk, who was neither handsome nor repulsive, prosperous nor impoverished, a third or fourth son so technically a gentleman, though not pick of the litter. Mrs Bennet would never allow one of her daughters to attach themselves to such a man, conveniently forgetting that the young clerk was indistinguishable from her own brother-in-law or father at that age. She had higher ambitions, and while Elizabeth did not agree with her methods, there at least was something to it. One Bennet daughter marrying down would reduce the already dismal prospects of the rest, and they were not quite that desperate yet. For that matter, if Elizabeth wanted to marry a man in trade, she would pick one of her uncle Gardiner’s associates over a lowly clerk in Meryton.
Most of them were older than she would prefer, and she did not really want to live in town, but they were at least prosperous, and her uncle could investigate them.
That said, the Goulding sisters did not appear so fastidious.
While Mr Philips would normally use his trap to attend the ball, when the Goulding carriage pulled up in front of his office, and the aforementioned clerk entered with her uncle, the lay of the land was clear.
The sisters would take what they could get, and Elizabeth most certainly would not criticise.
In fact, she ruefully admitted, given the events of the evening, she might find herself fighting for a lowly clerk herself within the week.
When the coach left for the ball, Elizabeth stepped out from the alleyway, but before she walked even a few yards, a most peculiar greeting arrived.
“Miss Gulliver, may I beg a moment of your time?”
Astonished, she turned to her left. A rather handsome man of around forty stood dressed in an indeterminate style that could be anything from tradesman, to shopkeeper, to clerk, to upper servant.
She had no idea what he was from his dress and deportment.
He skulked in the shadows waiting for her, which she could not like in the least, but he had Jane’s codeword from a decade earlier, which she had no idea how to feel about.
“You have the advantage of me, but if you know Gulliver, you know that is only the opening gambit.”
The man bowed, but instead of introducing himself, quickly gave her half a dozen phrases from the made-up language she shared with Jane. That relieved her nervousness, perhaps from Mrs Bennet level to Lydia.
“You appear to be acquainted with my sister, sir, so you have the advantage of me.”
“Not sir,” he said nonchalantly, then bowed properly. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Fletcher, Mr Darcy’s valet. I have been tasked with bringing you to safety, should you accept my assistance.”
“Mr Darcy!” she squeaked in complete shock.
Fletcher gave her an appeasing look while trying his best not to grin. He was not certain if the slight amusement he felt was at the expense of Miss Bennet, Mr Darcy, or both; but he took his enjoyment where he could get it.
“Ah, your sister’s caution was prescient, I see.”
“Her caution?”
“She anticipated your… ah… scepticism, and gave me specific instructions in that regard.”
Elizabeth nodded suspiciously.
“She says that for once in her life she is right and you are wrong, but she will not compound your discomfort by gloating… yet.”
Elizabeth had to laugh which set Fletcher at ease. He honestly had no idea how Miss Bennet’s statement would be taken, so thought himself well ahead in the game.
“If I may?” he asked, giving her a speaking look. She nodded, though the effect was somewhat ruined by a shiver, so she added, “Pray, proceed, my good man.”
Without further ado, Fletcher reached into a valise Elizabeth had not noticed at his feet; pulled out a warm blanket and walking shoes.
He settled the blanket around her shoulders and turned his back politely while she changed out the mangled dancing slippers for the shoes, which were fortunately only a bit too large.
“Follow me, if you please,” he said, and walked at a modest pace back through the alley, then through a circuitous route behind the smithy, the haberdashery, and several shops she did not know from the back.
With a flourish, he finally approached a door to one of the shops and knocked four times in quick succession, followed by three slow ones, leaving Elizabeth feeling like she was living a gothic novel.
The door opened, and Elizabeth was slightly startled to see the face of Mr and Mrs Herbert, the owners of the circulating library, both of whom welcomed her with smiles.
“Come in, Miss Lizzy, come in. You are very welcome… welcome, my girl. Come, come, stand by the fire. You must be frozen half to death,” Mrs Herbert said.
With a smile at the fortuitous and heartfelt welcome, Elizabeth did as directed and presently had the four of them sitting by the fire, though still wrapped in the blanket.
Mr Herbert said, “This is a rum business, Miss Lizzy, and make no mistake about that… a rum business all around. You are welcome for as long as you like.”
“Are you not afraid of raising the ire of one of your best customers?”
Mrs Herbert laughed. “There never was, nor will there ever be a day when Mr Bennet intimidates us, but it makes no matter. You may rest easy, as all is well in hand.”
“Forgive me if I remain sceptical. I alone among the Bennets know how businesses work, and I am not sanguine about exposing you to risks to your livelihood to save me the inconvenience of thrashing it out with my father sooner rather than later or retreating to London.”
Mr Herbert nodded. “Understandable enough, and I applaud your reasoning. Shall I explain?”
“I would be obliged.”
“Two things are in play. First, you will have to hide here until you decide what to do about your parents’ ah—”
Frustrated with politeness, Elizabeth helpfully supplied, “—Intransigence? Stupidity? Cruelty? Will any of those do?”
“They are polite enough,” he replied with a chuckle. “I was working my way through worse, mostly involving farm animals and unlikely activities, trying and failing to come up with language fit for a lady’s ears, but those will suffice.”
The four laughed gaily, and Elizabeth’s tension reduced noticeably. If the usually serious Mr Herbert could make such jokes, things could not be all that terrible.
Mr Herbert continued, “Let us take one thing at a time. If you stay out of sight here for a few days, I doubt your father could find you with a dozen runners, and to be honest, such industry seems unlikely.”
Fletcher helpfully added, “You must admit that industry is not Mr Bennet’s strong suit. I judge him to be the sort of man to assume you will come crawling back sooner or later.”
“Both correct,” Elizabeth sighed. “He might even be right if I did not have your help. Running off to town without a guarantee of welcome might just be beyond me, especially if he sends a servant back to Longbourn to hide my money or bar me from my room. I would not even be surprised to learn he did that before we left, just in case. His personality seems to have… altered.”
Everyone frowned and Mr Herbert continued.
“With both our daughters grown and well married, we have wanted to retire for a while but could not find a buyer. Mr Darcy knows a young man who would like to own such a shop but lacks the funds. He is to act as a sort of banker, advancing the funds to be paid back over some years.”
“That is very admirable and generous of him,” she admitted grudgingly. She was starting to wonder if she had misjudged Mr Darcy—or if, in fact, she knew him at all, especially given Jane’s recent gloating.
Fletcher replied, “It is, but he considers it something between a duty and a hobby—somewhere between his business transactions and his extensive charity work. He enjoys it and likes the satisfaction of helping a few people out. You might say his pride enjoys predicting which young men will succeed and which will fail, or his sense of community, or perhaps just relief from boredom.”
Elizabeth laughed, “Mr Bingley said something like that,” then she deepened her voice to mimic, “I declare I do not know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, when he has nothing to do."
Everyone laughed heartily. Mrs Herbert handed a few glasses of cordial around, then poured tea.
Mr Herbert continued, “We still love our books, and we should like to travel a bit. We saved for years, and with Mr Darcy’s help, we can do just that. He even offered us accommodation at any of his estates if we pass through.”
Elizabeth's head spun.
“All that explains Mr Darcy’s involvement," Mrs Herbert said, "but we would have sheltered you regardless, young lady. What your family is attempting is vile—absolutely vile. We married for love, and so should you, my dear.”
With that, the tears started to fall, and Mrs Herbert shooed the men out. Mr Fletcher had to report the success of his mission to his master (and likely best friend’s wife) before they fretted themselves into a state.
He knew what was coming. Mr Bennet no doubt considered himself a grown man and master of his domain.
Fletcher suspected the patriarch’s education was about to commence in earnest.