The Back Office
Elizabeth found surprising contentment in taking over the bookkeeping for the Herberts.
It was not something she was trained for, but it was not exactly advanced mathematics.
In practice, it was little different from managing the household accounts for an estate—or at least an estate where the mistress bothered and did not just leave it to the housekeeper and her eldest daughters.
It required attention to detail and simple addition—not the greatest challenge in the world.
Receiving new shipments and shelving them also brought satisfaction.
For obvious reasons, she only did that at night.
There was little chance one of the villagers would recognise her in her borrowed shopgirl’s dress; but there was every chance she might meet Mary, who did not even keep a subscription but sometimes spent an hour or two reading the latest sermons.
Mr Darcy appeared four more times in the fortnight after his first visit. He had little to share, but they found they could happily while away an hour or two sitting in the Herberts’ back parlour speaking of anything and everything.
While she loved the Herberts with all her heart, it was comforting to have a friend closer to her own age who was unmarried but could not possibly create expectations.
Being able to talk with a better-educated man who treated her as a rational human being, had much to recommend it.
She wondered if she would ever marry, and if so, if she could find other similar friends afterwards.
Both seemed unlikely, but when she inevitably became a spinster, she reckoned that it could be easily done as a shopkeeper.
Over time, she came to appreciate Mr Darcy’s wry sense of humour and loved to hear stories of Pemberley, which sounded glorious.
She was appalled to learn the massive scale of the responsibilities he acquired when he was Jane’s age, then doubly impressed that he came out of the ordeal with nothing worse than the occasional bout of moderately objectionable behaviour.
She was even more entertained by his descriptions of the cutthroat social life of the ton, which he very sensibly did not care for.
She gradually concluded he was in no hurry to throw her to Mr Bennet’s or Mr Collins’ wolves, nor to end the acquaintance—and for that, she was very happy.
In the end, much to her surprise, she found that she liked the man very much. Oh, he was still curmudgeonly from time to time, and his vaunted pride-regulation was sometimes uneven, but he was a good man—a very good man—and she thought he would make some lucky lady an exceptional husband one day.
They spent an entire day discussing Miss Darcy, of which about twenty minutes were consumed explaining in detail what a scoundrel Mr Wickham was, and another half-hour making full use of some of the more colourful words Mr Fletcher taught her.
Elizabeth wondered if having such a wolf among the lambs was something she could let stand.
He was apparently paying particular attention to Lydia, and Elizabeth thought they might make a good couple—mostly because it would save the rest of the world from being attached to either.
Mr Darcy told her that Lydia’s behaviour had descended even further into madness since the ball, and she was impressed that he said it without grinding his teeth (though she was not so lucky).
She gave the idea of forcing Lydia and Wickham due consideration the next time Mr Darcy called, but he spoiled her fun by revealing he grew tired of the man being a blight on the world, so he called in his debts and sent him to debtors' prison. He clearly felt guilty about doing such a thing to his father’s favourite, but returning to her `hard things are hard’ rule, she thought it appropriate. Needs must, and all that.
It was a case where she took his hand rather than the converse, and even though she felt both brave and foolish for it, she did not repent the action… not really.
Thoughts of Miss Darcy occupied her for most of a day otherwise spent reading a new novel.
They had discussed her in depth, and Elizabeth mostly concluded the girl needed more friends her own age.
She expected that if Mr Bingley ever worked up his nerve, then Jane could fill the bill.
She also thought she would like to befriend the girl—if she ever escaped the library.
She wondered if he was working his way up to proposing a more permanent solution, such as setting her up with a shop, or hiring her as a companion. It was exactly the sort of kind-hearted thing he would do.
Mostly, she wanted the bad parts of her life to be over so she could start the good.