Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak when several things happened at once.
A farmhand, up early and already at work, came around the corner of the barn and took in the scene.
Instantly, he shouted an alarm and charged towards Wickham.
Within seconds, Caleb from the home farm and two stableboys raced towards them from the opposite direction.
Lydia screamed and brought her foot in its hard-soled half-boot down on Wickham’s instep.
Cursing, he shoved Lydia to the ground before running away, which was faster than boarding the carriage and driving it off.
Lydia was crumpled in the dirt, weeping and wailing. She raised her head and screamed, “I hate you, Lizzy. I hate you! You are selfish and greedy; you are a snob, you are mean, worse than that horrible Mr Darcy. You think yourself above us now!”
Elizabeth stared, horrified at what she had just witnessed, but moved to help her sister, who slapped her away.
“Shall we have the carriage returned to the livery stable?” It was Caleb, the manager of the home farm, looking at a point behind her.
She looked around and saw that there were many witnesses to the fracas: the farmhand, the stableboys, Mrs Hill, Mr Osbeck, Ruthie, and worst of all, the entire Bennet family, some still in their nightclothes.
Elizabeth’s father, his face drawn and grey, answered, anger and resignation in his voice, “Yes, Caleb, if you would please, but first, let me tell you all that there will be no discussion of what you have witnessed this morning. None. Not even to your friends or relatives. You have all been loyal to our family for many years, and your loyalty will be repaid. You know what general knowledge of this shameful incident would do to our family. I will add more to your wages, a bonus of sorts, for your silence. If we hear of this incident from any person outside of Longbourn, the source of it will be removed from our service without a character.”
There came a mumbled agreement from the assembled servants and farmhands, and all turned back to their work. Mr Bennet walked to where his youngest daughter remained moaning on the ground. He took her arm and pulled her up.
“Lydia. You will come with me to my study. Mrs Bennet, you will come too. Girls, go to the small parlour and wait for us there.”
After three-quarters of an hour, their parents and a red-faced, angry Lydia joined them.
Mrs Bennet was tearful; Mr Bennet was grim.
“Well, Lizzy, it seems that your work with Goulding’s estate has brought us one benefit at least. Though we heard the words from a villain and a liar, we now know that Lydia has indeed experienced the kisses and caresses of men.
Your youngest sister claims that is all that she has permitted, but we are putting a stop to it, before she ruins us completely.
As of now, Lydia is no longer out. Her windows will be nailed shut.
Lastly, I will be sending an express to Mrs Gardiner now, today, in the hopes that, through her husband’s contacts, she can refer me to some schools for girls.
” He glared at his youngest daughter. “Very strict schools.”
As the sound of nails being hammered into wood rang through the house, Lydia was marched up to her room.
Elizabeth surveyed the correspondence before her.
The stack of letters had outgrown the little desk and now were spread across a library table.
All the charitable societies she had written to had written back, as well as two others she had not solicited.
One was in Staffordshire and the other in London.
Elizabeth had no idea how they had heard of their objective, yet she was glad they had.
Some of her most useful information had come from the two organisations.
She had read and reread the letters, making note of the most pertinent information and composing replies.
She had amassed a great quantity of notes by the time her uncle decided that an appointment with Mr Hargrove was in order.
The next day, Mr Philips’s carriage stopped by Longbourn, and he and Elizabeth travelled to Haye-Park together.
As they passed through the gates, Elizabeth experienced a wave of grief.
She had not been to Haye-Park since shortly before Mr Goulding’s death.
She looked up at the windows of the library, where she had visited so many times, and remembered the day she had bid him farewell and he had squeezed her hand.
Tears came to her eyes and her throat tightened. She reached for her handkerchief.
“Lizzy?” Mr Philips said quietly. “Will this be difficult for you? Would you rather Mr Hargrove and I meet without you?”
Elizabeth straightened her spine and dabbed at her eyes. “No, Uncle. I can do it. I would rather do it. I would never want to disappoint Mr Goulding. When I was a child, he used to say I was no faintheart.”
Mr Philips chuckled. “He was right about that.”
They were admitted to the manor house and shown to a small, sunny room located away from the public rooms, facing the barns and outbuildings.
“Ah, Miss Bennet, Mr Philips.” Mr Hargrove rose from his chair behind the desk in his office.
Elizabeth curtseyed respectfully, and the gentlemen shook hands. Hargrove indicated a table with four chairs at the other side of the room, where he pulled out a chair for Elizabeth.
“Now, how may I be of service to you?” the steward asked, once they were all seated. Mr Philips deferred to Elizabeth with a nod in her direction.
“We would like to learn more about the costs of the farm operations you oversee, the home farm, as well as the tenant farms. They are of course integral to funding Mr Goulding’s foundation.
To that, we must also consider the maintenance of the manor house and the outbuildings and other expenses.
We will take the total income from the farms, subtract the costs of operation and maintenance, and then we can discuss how much the charity can safely disperse per annum. ”
“Yes, indeed, Miss Bennet, and add to that the monies we spend per annum on maintenance for the tenant buildings, farm equipment, and the livestock we keep. Horses, cattle, pigs, goats, sheep, poultry, even the dovecote.” He laughed. “I need not tell you how busy a working estate is.
“I had great respect for Mr Goulding, and his plan, or should I say his dream, is truly inspired. It is an honour for me to work with you on it. Before we part today, I want to tell you how proud Mr Goulding would be to see you taking his project on. I had my doubts, I must confess. He told me that you were no faintheart, and he put his trust in you, along with Mr Philips.”
Mr Philips coughed to hide his laugh.
Elizabeth smiled. “I thank you, Mr Hargrove. In truth, I am still rather astonished that he left the responsibility to me, and I am humbled by his trust. I rely heavily on my uncle’s advice, as I shall rely on yours.
“We are in the process of designating trustees for the foundation and are compiling a list of candidates. In addition to the trustees, we will officially name trust officers. Mr Philips, of course, is already acting as one. I would like to invite you to be another, along with Mr Edward Gardiner, who has managed Mr Goulding’s investments in recent years.
I will draft an official letter to you and Mr Gardiner.
All three of you gentlemen served Mr Goulding for many years, and since you all knew him well, it is my hope that the foundation can continue to count on your advice in future. ”
“I am pleased to accept, even before I receive the official letter,” said Mr Hargrove, beaming.
He rose from his chair and moved two ledgers from his desk to the table.
“Here are the account books. They contain all income, expenditures, and interest earnings. You certainly do not need to study them, just familiarise yourself with how they are organised. At your convenience, of course. They will help you understand the finances of Haye-Park.”
Mr Philips spoke. “It occurs to me that any person who did not know that Mr Gardiner and myself had already been in the employ of Mr Goulding, would accuse my niece here of nepotism.”
“To that accusation I would say that though we are related, there are no better, more trustworthy officers to be found. Certainly any person who lives here knows that.”
It was a satisfying discussion, and Elizabeth felt that a great step forwards had been made in reaching their goal.