Chapter 10 Lesson of the Day
As Elizabeth stood up from the table, Baker said, “Miss Bennet, I hate to be indelicate, but I must take charge of any money you have hidden away. We will be two days on the road, and I find ladies without a farthing less likely to break away. Will you give me your word you will hand it all over to me, including whatever you may have sewn into your dress and smallclothes or tucked in a boot, in exchange for my word that I will not search you or your luggage?”
Elizabeth frowned, but as much as she enjoyed the idea of taking the thief-catcher down and escaping, she could see the futility. This was her first attempt at flight but just one more in a long line of people he returned against their wills.
She thought a few moments, then grumbled, “I suppose.”
The man nodded and held out his hand to suggest she precede him up the stairs.
She went as directed down a long, narrow corridor, preceded by the innkeeper’s wife. The matron opened the last door on the right and gestured Elizabeth inside. The room was small and sparsely furnished, but otherwise clean, tidy, and acceptable enough.
The innkeeper’s wife said, “Your maid, Molly Hatcher, will be along in a few minutes, ma’am. The bathwater will be about twenty minutes.”
“Thank you,” was all Elizabeth could manage.
She thought she would have to start learning to appreciate small gestures and modest pleasures, as the goodwife bustled off to her next task.
Baker said, “I will be in the next room. I sleep very lightly. Miss Hatcher should be along. She will return your dress and valise to me. I shall have the dress brushed down. There is no time to have it laundered.”
Elizabeth nodded, not bothering to answer. Mr Baker had everything under control, and she just thanked whatever fates were responsible that she had a kind jailor, while cursing the same fates that she had an efficient one. Once inside, she simply sat on the bed waiting for the bath water.
A half-hour later, a knock on the door brought a line of servants carrying buckets of steaming water, followed by a young girl of sixteen, who curtsied. “Molly Hatcher, ma’am. I am to be your maid for the next few days.”
Elizabeth curtsied as well. “Molly, I shall hope we can be friends or at least refrain from strangling each other.”
Much to her relief, Molly giggled. “I can safely say I have not strangled a single gentlewoman this week, or even this year.”
Elizabeth laughed and wondered about the girl’s history. By the time they exchanged pleasantries, the hip bath was filled with what little water it was likely to get. It was small, but considering it was the first bath in several days of dusty travelling, she was content enough.
Molly was a pleasant girl and lively conversationist. Elizabeth quickly bathed before the water cooled, while Molly took her dress out to be brushed as well as could be done.
When Elizabeth was out of the bath, and dressed in her night clothes, Molly braided her hair for sleep. When that was done, she bade the young maid to sit for the same treatment.
“Oh, no, miss! You seem confused about the duties of maid and mistress.”
Elizabeth chuckled grimly. “You seem confused about our relative roles. I am not your mistress. I am simply another traveller, and you are with us to maintain propriety. For the next two days, can we just be two women travelling together? The roles of servant and mistress are too confining, and I fear—”
She stopped herself just before confessing that of the two of them, Molly was the superior in terms of freedom of movement. There was no profit in that course.
“Let us just say it is unnecessary.”
Molly looked uncertain, so Elizabeth just took her shoulders gently, turned her towards the mirror and helped her undress.
“Fear not, Molly. I have four sisters, though I am quite cross with all of them just now. I am well accustomed to this, so do not fret.”
A quarter hour later both ladies were composed for sleep. There was a narrow cot in the room that looked about as comfortable as a woodpile, so Elizabeth suggested they share the bed, which had plenty of room.
With a sigh, she blew out the remaining candles and went to sleep—eventually.
Elizabeth heard the knock on the door well before dawn.
She had no dressing gown, so just opened it in her shift and stood behind it to cover herself.
A young girl of around fourteen introduced herself as the innkeeper’s daughter and handed her a hamper of food and her dress, brushed and cleaner looking.
She returned to find Molly stretching, so the two quickly helped each other dress, and were sitting on the bed when Mr Baker came for them.
He ushered them downstairs, and into a waiting carriage.
The conveyance was nothing much to look at, and once they started moving, Elizabeth could tell it had nothing much to boast of comfort-wise, but it was small, light, and moved fast. They could not make quite as good of time as the post, since that conveyance changed horses every ten miles, but it was, according to Mr Baker, fast enough to have them at Longbourn in two days.
Mr Baker chose to ride with the coachman instead of sitting inside, which Elizabeth assumed was an attempt to further protect her precious reputation.
She was beginning to think the entire ‘reputation’ issue was the bane of her existence, but she was happy not to have to put up with the miserable excuse of a man.
Looking for some diversion, she asked, “Molly, how did you come to take this particular job?”
The young girl showed no shyness, which Elizabeth enjoyed.
“I have been caring for my ailing mother this last year or more. She passed a month ago, and I am trying to gain better employment. I have hopes of becoming a maid at one of the great estates, but it takes time. The innkeeper keeps track of people seeking positions, so he suggested me for the task.”
Elizabeth smiled and cautiously asked, “What are you told of the job?”
“Almost nothing, ma’am. I do not even know your name. I just know you need a maid to go with you. I do not really understand why I can take a carriage or even the mail back by myself, but you cannot.”
Elizabeth grumbled. “It is just how society works. It is ridiculous, but it is as it is. I am worried about you returning by yourself, though. It is, in fact, more than a little dangerous.”
“Mr Baker said that he would find a safe way for me to travel, either with another maid, or with a couple; or he might even send me back in this coach. He seems to know how to get things done.”
“He certainly does.”
They both sat in silence for some time, and Elizabeth asked, “Can you read? If so, we could speak of what you have read.”
She felt like an absolute cretin when Molly replied, “No, ma’am. My father thought it a waste to teach a girl much of anything, and with four brothers… well—”
She looked embarrassed, and Elizabeth felt low as a worm, so she asked, “Would you like to learn?”
“Is it possible?”
“Of course. It is never too late to learn. I believe I will have a great deal of study in my near future.”
She did not think it prudent to elaborate on what she had to learn.
It was obvious Mr Baker had gone to some trouble to keep her identity secret.
Molly did not even know her name, nor did she seem aware that her name would soon be Darcy.
The innkeeper and his wife seemed like people who could keep their mouths shut (given sufficient inducement), and the coach was obviously Mr Baker’s tool of the trade, as it was built for utility and speed.
It had not escaped her that both doors had stout locks.
Not wanting to spend too much time fretting about her future, which she could do nothing about, she said, “You cannot learn in two days, but you can begin. Let us see what we can do with what I have. If you are looking for employment in a great house, you will be lucky to get anything better than a scullery position, but if you work hard and have a fair employer, you might advance, but you will not go far if you cannot read.”
Elizabeth took a book she had in her valise and started working with Molly to recognise letters and went about it for the next hour.
When they approached a village the size of Meryton with the usual collection of shops, they brought the coach to a stop, and she took a chance.
“Mr Baker, since you are not a beast, may I use some of my money to buy materials to make the journey easier? Keeping in mind the relative ease of hauling a reasonably contented woman acting like a rough approximation of a lady versus—what did you call it—a spitting hellcat.”
Baker quite liked the young lady—not enough to let her go of course—but he did like her spirit. He suspected the lunkhead waiting at the other end of the debacle was due an educational experience. He would like to see that but obviously would not, so he was reduced to speculation.
“Very well, Miss B—” but stopped short of saying her name.
A man of careful habits, he always tried to keep the circle of people who knew his business as small as possible, and the maid did not need to know.
He was not surprised a woman like Miss Bennet wanted something to read, so he agreed to the purchase.
After all, her father never said she could not spend her own money.
“What do you require?”
“Some materials from the bookshop.”
Knowing she could not get into all that much trouble, he asked how much she needed and carefully counted it out.
“We will bait the horses for an hour, and I will order tea and refreshments at that inn. May I have your word that you will attend me there within the half-hour?”
“Yes,” she said, without further comment.
The man nodded, and she dragged Molly away.
Within the half-hour, Mr Baker was sitting with the driver sipping tea, with the men’s supplemented for a man driving in the middle of December (a foolish operation if there ever was one).
He saw his latest young lady sit down at the table with her maid and wondered what they bought.
He learned soon enough, as the maid anxiously reached into the package and brought out a primer and slate suitable for teaching a child to read and write.
The bag seemed to hold a few more books, which he suspected were primers.
The maid obviously had no idea what to do with any of it at first, but apparently lessons were the order of the day.
So, two days of lessons in reading. It was not the strangest activity he had ever seen on a return journey, but it was close.
True to his word, they rode late into the night, fell into exhausted slumber after yet another meal of some kind of stew, and Mr Baker did not stint on their meals or accommodations.
Molly proudly showed Mr Baker that she could print her own name and read a few paragraphs of the primer, so he made the same kind of non-committal noises he made for his sister’s children when they did the same.
He had no idea how the raising of children was done and was sceptical of the entire enterprise.
His upbringing had been quite different from the usual, but closer to Miss Hatchers than Miss Bennet’s.
In the afternoon of the second day, Elizabeth recognised Hatfield, the town where her northern journey began.
She refrained from suggesting they wait until midnight, and she could perfectly well walk the rest of the way, since she had done it before.
He was not a beast, but he was not necessarily a humorous man either.
Mr Baker stopped to bait the horses as usual, and while they were enjoying their tea, he waited until Miss Hatcher went to refresh herself and spoke to Elizabeth.
“I imagine you walked this far, Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, I did so in the middle of the night.”
Baker nodded. “If you have no objections, I will say it was bravely done. You almost pulled it off. It was stupid and dangerous, but still brave.”
Elizabeth snorted. “Can we agree that most brave acts are stupid and dangerous? Is that not the definition of bravery?”
The man chuckled. “You may have a point there. However, as amusing as this discussion is, I have another item to discuss.”
Elizabeth just raised her eyebrow.
“It is about your money. You had more than the usual amount for runaways.”
“I save more diligently than most, I suppose. It is not stolen or appropriated from my father, though I would have no qualms about doing so if necessary.”
Baker sighed. “I will have to give it to your father. My experience says he will just keep it and spend it on his own comforts, assuming rightly or wrongly that you owe it to him for all the expense and inconvenience of the chase.”
Elizabeth shrugged resignedly. “I suppose you are right. At best he will give it to my future husband, which will be like dumping a thimble of tea in the ocean.”
Baker looked around to ensure their privacy.
“Nobody but you and I know how much coin you have. If I returned half, his suspicions would be satisfied. I cannot allow you to just hide it somewhere local where you could use it for another escape attempt, but if you had some other avenue for the funds, I could see to it.”
“Such as?”
“I have no idea. I could send it to someone for safekeeping if you like, though I would not do so for several weeks—you understand.”
“And I should just trust you to do that?”
He smiled grimly. “No, you should not. You should never trust anybody in my profession, but if that is your best alternative, I am at your service. I give you my word I will not steal it, but if I were the sort of man to steal a lady’s money, my word would be worth nothing.”
Elizabeth thought about it for a moment, and finally said, “If I give it to Molly, will you guarantee her safe passage, with the coin intact back to Derbyshire, preferably in safety and comfort?”
He nodded.
“Then I accept your offer. Give me the money. I will give her a few suggestions about how to best use it. It will be nice to think that somebody will profit from my years of discipline.”
The man nodded. “I am impressed. Not everyone would think of a maid.”
“She is not a maid, just a young woman alone in the world.”
“May I presume you wish to continue her education?”
“Of course. That is why I started.”
“Did you meet the proprietor of the bookshop?”
“Yes, he is a lovely man.”
“I suggest she ask him to direct her education. I think he will see to her appropriately.”
“I will do so. And Mr Baker—I trust you, within reason, but you should be aware that I will return Lambton sooner than later with considerably higher status and nearly unlimited funds. I would be most unhappy to learn Molly’s fortune did not make it all the way to her lessons.”
“You wound me, Miss Bennet,” he said, but then leaned back and laughed his head off.
The last words before Molly returned were the whispered, “Cheek of the devil.”