Chapter 2
Drawing Room
Gardiners’ House
Cheapside
Morning
Wednesday, 3rd October, 1811
“I hope you have a good trip, Elizabeth,” Madeline Gardiner said, embracing her niece lovingly. “It seems as if it will be a dry day, and you have hot bricks for your feet, but perhaps you need another rug? I can send…”
“It is not necessary, Aunt,” Elizabeth interposed with a chuckle. “I do not get cold easily, and it is not quite winter yet.”
“True enough,” Mrs. Gardiner replied with a smile, and then her husband, Mr. Gardiner, added, “Lizzy, I know that you are a very competent young lady, but if you need help at Longbourn, please send me a letter.”
“I will,” his niece said and then turned as the door opened and her four young Gardiner cousins surged into the room with a nursemaid at their heels.
She dropped down into a crouch, the better to speak to the two little girls and their even smaller brothers, and after farewells and hugs, she made her way out of the drawing room, down the hall, and out the door, with her uncle at one side and a maid on the other.
He handed her into the carriage, the maid followed her, and Elizabeth watched as one of her uncle’s male servants climbed onto the back of the hired carriage.
Mr. Gardiner was always careful to guard his nieces and thus had arranged for a manservant to travel with the two women.
The maid, Phoebe, had been hired by Mr. Gardiner the previous week, and she was traveling with Elizabeth to serve at Longbourn in place of a maid who had recently departed.
It was at least the hundredth reason for Elizabeth in particular, and the Bennets in general, to be grateful to Mr. Gardiner. He was a tradesman with a thriving and time-consuming business, but he always took time to assist his relations when necessary.
She leaned back against the cushion, which was clean if not particularly plump, and let her eyes close. It would take several hours to reach Longbourn, and Elizabeth had every intention of resting before she was propelled into the maelstrom of busyness that was doubtless waiting for her.
From a strictly objective viewpoint, Elizabeth's life was extremely unusual. It was not often, after all, that the second daughter of a knighted gentleman managed his affairs for him and those of her mother, and by consequence, her sisters, too.
Sir Thomas's title had been granted to him for his contributions to the public knowledge, and his treatises and dissertations on the heavens.
He had been grateful in a vague sort of way; there were advantages, after all, to having the King's favor.
Sir Thomas had returned home to Meryton from his knighting ceremony and, in between heavenly observations and mathematical notations, offered for the loveliest young lady in the locale, a solicitor's daughter with aspirations to the gentry.
She had accepted with alacrity the offer of becoming a Lady and proceeded to present her absentminded spouse with five daughters in succession, but not the looked-for heir.
When Elizabeth was growing up, she had wondered why the brilliant but entirely star-focused Sir Thomas had even bothered with a marriage that he endured more than enjoyed.
It was not until she was older that she had learned of the entail on Longbourn and concluded that a nascent sense of duty had inspired the master of the estate to attempt to sire a male heir.
The attempts had been fruitless, and instead, he had been saddled with five daughters.
At least several of his daughters shared his interest to some degree, if not with the same all-consuming passion.
That province was reserved for Mary alone.
Not one of the sisters begrudged her the position as their father's favorite daughter; it was a natural outcome when Mary had inherited an intellect and affinity for astronomy quite as strong as her sire's.
She had become his assistant as soon as she was able and now spent most of her time with him, helping with observations and records.
Elizabeth too loved the stars, but she lacked the patience that her father and next younger sister had in spades, to sit for hours bent and cramped over a telescope or writing notes and numbers for calculations.
Her talents had manifested in a more terrestrial realm, and over the past few years, she had found herself taking on more and more of the administrative responsibilities of the estate.
As a lanky, graceless ten-year-old, she had begun to tag after Mr. Wallace, the kindly steward of Longbourn, and by the time she was fifteen, she knew his duties nearly as well as he did.
It was just as well, for Emerald Island, inhabited by farmers and fishermen, had a bailiff rather than a steward.
One of the benefits of having the King's admiration was that he would sometimes give great gifts, such as an entire private island from which to better observe the firmament.
Some ten years ago, Emerald Island had been given into Sir Thomas Bennet's possession, and the majority of his time had been spent there ever since the house had been built, except when frigid sea winds drove him back to the milder climes of Meryton.
These days, Elizabeth largely divided her time evenly between her two homes.
Mr. Wallace knew his job well and carried out his duties faithfully, but there were some decisions that the steward could not make without consulting with one of the Bennets.
The matriarch of the family rarely could answer these questions, and Sir Thomas was even more rarely available to do so.
Elizabeth had stepped willingly into this gap, taking on the role of the estate's master.
Then, it had seemed reasonable for her to take on the responsibility of Emerald Island.
Thankfully, the fishermen and farmers of the island were simple and honest folk, happy to tend their fields and their flocks and their boats and their docks without much disagreement among themselves.
She had only been on the island for two weeks this time, consulting with Percher, their bailiff, and seeing to the house and estate.
Percher was a stolid man, unvaryingly respectful, with a good head on his shoulders, and Elizabeth valued his input.
She had only just finished conducting her business with him the day before the solicitor had arrived.
Elizabeth was not at all surprised by her mother's insistence that her daughters required new gowns in the hopes of attracting the eligible young man who would soon inhabit Netherfield Hall.
Longbourn was wealthy for its size, but any funds it brought in flowed out again just as rapidly.
Sir Thomas was always sending away for new telescopes, and sometimes sextants, and occasionally other shiny gadgets of brass casings and glass lenses with more obscure names and expensive purchasing price.
That alone Longbourn could, perhaps, have supported, but Lady Bennet was of a frivolous turn of mind, and she constantly wished to purchase new dresses for herself and her daughters, and the latest furnishings for the house, and ornaments and bonnets and ribbons and lace, with little thought of the bills that came pouring in weeks and months later.
To Elizabeth had fallen the duty of ensuring the family remained solvent so that neither her father's passion nor her mother's spendthrift ways caused undue suffering to the servants, the tenants, the fields, or the livestock.
It was as well that both her parents respected her, and that when she firmly told them that Longbourn could not support the cost of this gadget or that trinket, both Sir Thomas and his wife would generally yield to their daughter's wisdom.
On the rare occasions that one or the other proved obstinate, Elizabeth had appealed to her Uncle Gardiner.
His intervention had yet to fail in impressing reason on either Lady Bennet or Sir Thomas.
Still, it was wearing, to constantly do the accounts, to stand between the family and penury, to be cautious and prudent where her parents could or would not be.
It was tiring to make the decisions of the estate that should by right be made by a master who had been raised and educated to the duty.
At times, it was nothing short of overwhelming to manage an estate and an island alike.
Emerald Island had not been neglected, per se, when the Crown had owned it, but it had not been managed to best advantage.
Elizabeth, in coordination with Percher, had introduced modifications to farming techniques as well as new crops to the island that had improved yields significantly.
There had been no thought in her head of securing herself an inheritance when Elizabeth had worked with the residents on making changes, but now that she owned the island, she was legitimately wealthy in her own right.
The rents this past year had totaled fifteen hundred pounds, quite a respectable income for a young lady who had not yet attained her majority, and of course she owned the island itself now as well.
There was still much to be done , certainly, and Elizabeth would devote time, energy, attention, and money to the well-being of her tenants and the profitability of her estate.
For now, though, Longbourn demanded her focus, and already she was weary.
She rested her head back against the squabs and let the sleep that was weighing on her eyelids claim her.
***
Drawing Room
Longbourn
Three Hours Later
3rd October, 1811
Jane took a sip of her milky tea and listened, amused, to the gossip filling the air of the Longbourn drawing room.
The two preeminent ladies of the area were bosom friends, and the women of Lucas Lodge were a common sight at Longbourn.
Jane met Charlotte Lucas’s eyes over the rims of their cups, and the two young ladies shared a smile.
Both enjoyed the monthly assemblies, but neither joined in the breathless anticipation displayed by their younger sisters and, this time, their mothers as well.
“My dear Lady Bennet,” Lady Lucas said impressively. “Mr. Bingley is intending to bring a full dozen ladies and seven gentlemen to the next assembly in Meryton. Is that not wonderful?”
“A dozen ladies?” Kitty Bennet demanded, her pretty face twisted in disapproval. “We want gentlemen, not ladies!”
“Perhaps some of the militia officers will be at the assembly,” Lydia said, her blue eyes dancing. “Officers are so very handsome in their red coats, and I am certain they are all excellent dancers.”
“I am confident they are,” Lady Lucas said, “but unfortunately none of them will arrive here in Meryton until after the next assembly.”
The ladies sighed mournfully at this news, and Lady Bennet said, “I can only hope that some of the officers have private fortunes. A lieutenant or a captain will not make enough to comfortably support you girls, but if a fine young colonel, worth five or six thousand pounds a year, wants one of my daughters, I will not say ‘nay’ to him!”
The door opened at this moment, and the ladies turned toward it, and then Jane leaped to her feet and hurried to her sister.
“Lizzy!” she cried out. “Welcome home!”
She pulled Elizabeth into an embrace, who mirrored the gesture with enthusiasm and then said, “Good morning, Lady Lucas, Charlotte, Maria, Mamma, Sisters. I hope you are all in good health?”
“We are very well,” Lady Lucas said with a smile. “You have just returned from Emerald Island?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied. “I need to refresh myself upstairs, but I saw your carriage and wished to see you before you left.”
“Do be quick, Lizzy!” Lydia cried out. “The assembly is next week, and we want new gowns.”
Jane, watching her sister carefully, caught just the hint of a frown, but a moment later, the expression vanished in favor of a resigned smile. “I know, Lydia.”
“Let me walk upstairs with you,” Jane suggested.