Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Here is a little office you can use,” said Mr Philips, showing her a tiny alcove barely large enough for a small writing desk and a chair. “Start with persons of your acquaintance who would know of charitable organisations.”
“Mr and Mrs Pym, I expect. Mr and Mrs Gardiner.” Mr Darcy. He likely sponsored several charities. But that avenue was closed to her.
“I have done some legal work for a society in Hertford. I will write to them for you.”
“That is another thing, Uncle. I find it difficult to believe that trustees of these organisations will take seriously a letter from an unmarried young lady.”
“I have considered the same thing. I will compose a letter of introduction that my clerk can copy out and send along with each letter. Now, here are paper, ink, and a selection of pens. Go to it, my dear.”
Elizabeth began with a letter to her aunt. She would visit Mr and Mrs Pym in person.
As the days passed, Elizabeth learnt to enjoy the work, though it involved writing a great many letters.
Mr Darcy often appeared in her mind, bent over the writing desk in the drawing room at Netherfield.
She knew she should count her blessings.
The poor man had had to write his letters while fending off Miss Bingley at the same time.
An added benefit of the work was that it helped distract her from her personal regrets.
She received referrals to several charities from Mrs Gardiner, and Mr Pym made out a short list for her to contact. She soon had the names and directions for over a dozen societies and commenced the task of writing to them all.
On her walks to and from her uncle’s office, she encountered many acquaintances.
Suddenly, everyone seemed to want to converse with her.
Once, on her way home, she met the younger Mr Robinson, who bowed and appeared to want to chat.
Barely half a mile later, she met Mr Nelson, who was a guest of the Purvises. He was also unusually talkative.
Shopkeepers greeted her as she walked by their shops and often had something to show her, some ribbons or fabric; or they invited her to view a display.
One day, soon after Elizabeth had begun to receive replies to her letters, Mrs Culver stepped out of her millinery shop as Elizabeth walked by. “Miss Elizabeth, I have some new summer bonnets, should you wish to see them.”
Elizabeth stopped to look, though she was in a hurry to get to her uncle’s office.
The bonnets were indeed lovely. She ran her fingers over the yellow satin lining of a bonnet with a narrow straw brim decorated with tiny white flowers. She sighed. “They are very pretty, Mrs Culver. I will have to save a little more of my pin money so I can purchase it.”
The milliner frowned. “Pin money? Miss, you have twenty thousand pounds to spend! Or are you going to take all your business to the London shops now?”
Elizabeth stilled. She was already weary of having to correct those who believed the stories of her vast wealth.
She took a deep breath. “Mrs Culver, I did not inherit Mr Goulding’s fortune.
I inherited the dower house at Haye-Park and that is all.
His fortune, all of it, will be used for a charity benefitting the town, and he charged me with the task of organising it.
If you doubt me, I invite you to visit Mr Philips’s office and ask him.
Perhaps he will let you see the document. ”
Mrs Culver had the grace to look embarrassed.
“I am sorry, Miss Elizabeth, I did not know.” After a moment, she went on, her voice soft.
“Several years ago, when my husband died, Mr Goulding gave me the funds to continue in business. If he had not, my son and I would have had to go away. I do not know what would have become of us.” She smiled.
“He was a good, kind man. Pray forgive me, miss.”
“Think of it no more, please. Though I would appreciate it if you would let others know that I am not wealthy!”
Mrs Culver agreed, and Elizabeth went on her way, reminding herself to take another of the winding bridle paths home so she need not walk down the high street again.
The next afternoon, Elizabeth hurried home. It was Tuesday, her mother’s afternoon for visitors, and Mrs Bennet had specifically ordered her to attend. She was thinking of what she had learnt about the role of trustees when she heard a voice call out.
“Lizzy?”
Elizabeth turned around. There stood Miss Penelope Harrington, pale-faced, a handkerchief in her hands which had been twisted beyond recognition.
“Penny! Is something the matter?” As she walked nearer to the girl, she could see that she had been crying. “What has happened?”
The girl stared at her for a moment, then blurted, “You do not want Henry, do you?”
Elizabeth was baffled. “Henry? Do you mean Mr Henry Lucas? Do I want him?” She stared back at Miss Harrington. “I am not certain of what you are saying. Do you mean as a suitor?”
Miss Harrington nodded, a sob escaping her lips.
Elizabeth had no idea how the girl had got this idea.
She shook her head. “No, I do not want Mr Lucas. I mean to say, he is a good man, and I consider him a friend, just as I am friends with his sisters and brothers. But you and he have been sweethearts since we were children. I believe I can say that everyone in our parish expects you to marry someday.”
She put her arm around the other girl, who seemed to be in some misery. “Why on earth do you think he would even look at another lady besides you? Or why would I or any other lady you know try to steal him away?”
Miss Harrington sniffed and dabbed at her nose. “He and I wish to marry, but we must wait. Mr John Lucas is the heir, so Henry must complete his studies and make a career. My dowry is small and now…now Lady Lucas told Henry he must call upon you and your sisters instead.”
“What? No! Why would she do such a thing?” Elizabeth cried.
“Because you are rich now. Everyone knows about it. Mr Goulding was a wealthy man, and he left his estate and thirty thousand pounds to you. You and your sisters will have enormous dowries and the income from a prosperous estate. Lady Lucas wants her son to move up in the world, something he cannot do if he marries me.”
Elizabeth groaned. “I do not have a dowry, and Mr Goulding has not given me his fortune to use on myself or my family. It is nowhere near thirty thousand pounds! I am to help manage it for the benefit of the community, that is all.”
Miss Harrington looked at her so hopefully that Elizabeth was moved to embrace her.
“I promise that I shall never steal Mr Lucas away from you. As far as I am concerned, you are meant for each other.”
As she parted with Miss Harrington, Elizabeth pondered what she had just heard. The entire town seemed to believe that she possessed great wealth. The sooner she and her uncles were able to complete their task and let the charity put the money to work, the better.