Chapter Eight #3
Slightly surprised by her mother’s exclusion of Lydia, an exclusion Elizabeth deemed quite sensible, she nodded and turned to Gavin. “If you’ll follow me, we can collect Mary.”
They went through the garden gate and up the walk to the kitchen door, stepping in to find Betty clearing up.
She turned and dipped a curtsy. “I’ll be out of your way in a jiff, Miss Elizabeth. I’ve only got the rising dough to take into the dining room out of the way.”
“We can do that, Betty.” Elizabeth said, crossing to the little table, where towel wrapped dough rested.
“Mary and I will be taking Mr. Murphy here through the house to look into adding more storage to the rooms. We’re going to start at the top, with the room you and Sarah share, and Edward’s.
I wanted to let you know, and if you could inform them as well, that would be very kind. ”
“Thank you for thinking of us, Miss. A shelf or two would be a real boon. I’ll tell the others.” Betty hung up her apron and bustled away.
Elizabeth knew they’d never be able to make the rooms nice enough to lure back staff of the caliber of Mrs. Hill, but she felt their three loyal servants deserved improvement.
She turned to Gavin and gestured to the bundles of dough.
“I’m sorry to volunteer you for more work.
I wanted the staff to have the opportunity to tidy their rooms, if needed. ”
“It’s no trouble at all.” He tucked his measuring tape and writing implements under an arm and hoisted a board of dough. “I believe the dining room is that way?”
As the kitchen had only one interior exit and Gavin had been through the house the day before, Elizabeth nodded and collected the rest of the dough. He was, she reflected, an exceedingly affable man. She could only imagine the frown she’d earn from Mr. Darcy if she drafted him into kitchen work.
They set the rising dough on the dining room table and Gavin paused, studying the space.
“I haven’t measured yet, but after going through yesterday, it occurred to me that if your father would permit us to replace this table with one that has leaves, it could be kept small enough for shelving and a desk on that end of the room, and when you did have guests, the leaves could be put in and the desk chair turned the other way, to use at the table.
” He cast Elizabeth an apologetic look, as if loath to mention Goldfinch Cottage’s shortcomings.
“I did notice there are no shelves and no desk for bookwork anywhere in the cottage.”
“You build tables?” Elizabeth asked, for carpentry and fine furniture building were vastly different.
Gavin ducked his head. “I’ve been developing those skills, yes.
” He raised eyes that shone with fervor.
“I like carpentry, and laying out rooms, and design, but to build furnishings, to design and craft desks and tables and chairs, that would be truly splendid.” His joy in the occupation added appeal to an otherwise unremarkable face.
“It would, indeed, and your idea is very good. We can certainly put it forward.” Elizabeth gestured to the doorway. “Mary will be in the parlor.”
Elizabeth led the way to find her three sisters had been joined in the parlor by Mr. Wickham and Captain Carter. Both men stood when she halted in the doorway.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Wickham said, appearing pleased until his gaze flicked past her to where Gavin stood. Wickham smoothed his frown almost instantly to continue, “Have you come to join us?”
She shook her head. “I’ve come to collect Mary.
” Elizabeth turned slightly to Gavin as she continued, “We’re to help Mr. Murphy decide what’s needed in each room.
” It surprised her to see, askance, that Gavin frowned at Mr. Wickham with at least as much dislike as had appeared on Wickham’s face a moment before.
“You want my help?” Mary asked, surprised.
“Mother specifically suggested you.”
“Because shelving is so boring,” Lydia said to Kitty.
Far from amused, Kitty appeared stricken. She darted a look at Captain Carter and then back at Elizabeth. “Mama didn’t care about my opinion?”
“I daresay she realized you and Lydia have to remain here with our guests,” Elizabeth lied, aware that Kitty wished to look mature and responsible in front of Captain Carter.
Their mother couldn’t have realized any such thing, as she, Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth had been behind the cottage when Mr. Wickham and Captain Carter arrived and had no idea they even had guests.
Relieved, Kitty nodded.
Mary looked back and forth between her and Elizabeth with a frown.
“Mary?” Elizabeth urged, willing her to let Kitty keep her dignity in front of her suitor.
Smoothing her features, Mary stood and came across the room.
Elizabeth led the way, struggling to put her curiosity about the animosity between Gavin and Mr. Wickham aside as she and Mary discussed each room with the carpenter.
Had Mr. Wickham quarreled with every man from Derbyshire?
Was that the reason he’d left? If she should know something about Mr. Wickham, she’d rather hear it now, before she or any of her sisters took undue notice of the man.
Later that day, measurements taken, their guests gone and her family once more ensconced in the parlor, Elizabeth returned to the kitchen, where three of the Murphys worked and Gavin sat off to the side, the little table pushed against a wall, sketching his designs.
All four men halted in their work as she came in.
“We’ll be a bit longer today, Miss Bennet,” Mr. Murphy said. “I know it’s an inconvenience to have us in here.”
“I didn’t come for the kitchen. I’d like to, well, make an inquiry.”
Four pairs of blue eyes looked at her quizzically.
Hoping she wasn’t overstepping, Elizabeth directed her next words at Gavin. “I couldn’t help but notice you seem acquainted with Mr. Wickham.”
The men let out a general murmur of dislike. Tyrone Murphy turned his head away as if he might spit, seemed to recall he stood in their kitchen and scowled instead.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.
“He tried to seduce our sister,” Gavin explained.
Elizabeth gasped.
“He bought several things in our cousin’s shop and didn’t pay,” Tyrone added. “Mr. Darcy paid the debts after Wickham left, but he said not to extend him any more credit.”
“I used to play with the rector’s son when I was a boy,” Douglas said. “He said whenever Wickham got in trouble, he made up stories about how other people did whatever he’d done wrong.”
Elizabeth stood in the kitchen doorway, flabbergasted, as more reports of Mr. Wickham’s wrongdoings spilled from the four men.
Whether or not their stories were true, their dislike certainly wasn’t feigned.
When they finally ran out of grievances, she thanked them for their candor and returned to the parlor.
Her mending in her lap, she went back over their accusations in her head and tried to decide what to do with the information.
If the Murphys’ stories were true, Elizabeth shouldn’t associate with Mr. Wickham, and Lydia, easily influenced by a handsome face above a uniform, definitely shouldn’t.
The accusation that Mr. Wickham had attempted to seduce the Murphys’ sister proved particularly alarming.
Elizabeth could hardly concentrate on her stitches as she considered the trouble that could result if Mr. Wickham decided to give seducing a young woman another try.