Chapter 6
Solicitor’s Office
Meryton
Later
Mr. Phillips was not a man given to frills and furbelows and unnecessary ornamentation.
His shelves contained ledgers and accounts and books of law and a very few on agriculture, but no knickknacks.
A closed cabinet and drawers stood in one corner with nothing on top, not even dust. Papers and inkwells and pen boxes were ordered neatly across a solid and unadorned oak desk, and a single unlit candlestick sat on another corner.
The chairs that made up the rest of the furnishings in the room matched the desk and shelves and cabinet.
Comfortable and sturdy and upholstered in leather, they were nonetheless as simple as the rest of the office they graced.
A large fireplace kept the small room warm and pleasant for visiting clients, and windows hung along two walls; the office was situated in the corner of the building and let in natural light for most of the day's sunlit hours.
Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and watched as her uncle, the portly gray-haired Mr. Phillips, pored attentively over a document resting on the desk.
The steward of Longbourn, Mr. Wallace, sat in the chair beside her, patiently waiting for the solicitor to finish his assessment of the papers.
After some minutes, Mr. Phillips set down the document, carefully folded his spectacles, and looked at his visitors.
“Well, this all seems very clear, Elizabeth,” he said.
“You are now the owner of Emerald Island, and your father has given you legal authority to oversee Longbourn as you see fit. Now I know that you understand this, but I will state it anyway. Longbourn is entailed to your father’s cousin, Mr. Collins, and thus it would be unwise to take any of the income from Emerald Island and use it for the upkeep of Longbourn, as realistically your father could die at any time.
Not that I expect him to do so, but ... you do understand? ”
“I do, of course,” Elizabeth said with a reassuring smile.
“I have spoken of this with Jane and Uncle Gardiner and Mr. Wallace, and we are in agreement that we will keep the income of Longbourn separate from that of Emerald Island. It will facilitate my efforts to make appropriate decisions about Father’s requests for lenses and sextants, and Mother’s requests for clothing and new carpets! ”
The men chuckled at this, and Elizabeth rose and said, “I am grateful for your help, Uncle Phillips. And Mr. Wallace, I know I have said this before, but I am incredibly thankful for your service at Longbourn.”
“You know it is my pleasure, Miss Elizabeth,” Wallace replied with a bob of his head.
“I appreciate that you have your own work to do, Uncle,” Elizabeth continued, looking at her uncle. “We will see you soon, I daresay.”
Phillips walked around his desk and took her right hand in both of his larger ones. “You are a very intelligent young lady, Niece, but if you ever have need of some advice, I hope you will come to me.”
“I will, of course,” she replied, and she meant it. Mr. Phillips was not a sophisticated man, but he was intelligent and hardworking and far more practical than her father had ever been.
***
Outer Room
Mr. Phillips’ Office
“My apologies, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy,” the clerk said with a nervous bob of his head. “I am certain Mr. Phillips will be available shortly.”
“It is quite all right,” Bingley said with his usual cheer. “My friend and I happened to be riding through Meryton, and I remembered that I wished to meet Mr. Phillips as I might well need the services of a local solicitor on occasion, but…”
A door opened and Bingley stopped speaking and turned along with Darcy as an unfamiliar, plump man of some fifty years walked through the door with a familiar young lady on his arm. Behind the pair was another man who looked to be about forty years of age.
“Mr. Phillips, sir,” the clerk said. “Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are here to call on you.”
“Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy,” the older man said with a bow. “It is an honor to meet you. May I please introduce you to my niece, Elizabeth Bennet, and the steward of Longbourn, Mr. Wallace. Elizabeth, Wallace, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy.”
“I had the honor of meeting Miss Elizabeth at the assembly only yesterday,” Bingley said cheerfully, “but I am pleased to meet you gentlemen. Mr. Wallace, I presume you know the steward of Netherfield, Mr. Billingham?”
Darcy, who had found his eyes resting on Miss Elizabeth’s face, was surprised when the lady frowned, though that expression was smoothed away instantly.
“I do, of course,” Wallace said after a significant pause.
“Is it possible that you do not approve of Mr. Billingham?” Darcy demanded suddenly, causing Bingley to jerk in surprise.
Wallace blew out a breath and said, “It is not my place to discuss my fellow steward, sir.”
“Well, I will,” Miss Elizabeth said, her face now flushed a pleasing pink.
“The truth is that Mr. Billingham is five and sixty years of age and far too old for his position, but the Platchetts, who own Netherfield Hall, have not provided any kind of annuity for him, and with a sickly wife, he continues to work as hard as he can even when it is rather too much for him.”
Darcy lifted an eyebrow. “We have not had a chance to ride throughout all of Netherfield, but it seems in good heart, so it appears that Mr. Billingham is fulfilling his duties quite well.”
“He is doing the best he can,” the lady replied, “and the tenant cottages are largely in good repair, as is the fencing. There is a field on your estate that needs drainage, Mr. Bingley, and has been neglected for three years. I am more concerned that Mr. Billingham is old-fashioned, and it would be far better if the tenants were given guidance about appropriate crop rotation. Not only has Mr. Billingham never read Mr. Coke’s work, I doubt he has even heard of Coke of Norfolk. ”
Darcy felt his jaw drop a trifle, and he shook his head a little. “Am I … that is, am I to understand that you have read some of Mr. Coke’s treatises, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Assuredly I have,” the lady said coolly and then turned to Mr. Phillips. “I will see you later, Uncle. Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, good day.”
“Good day,” the gentlemen murmured, and Darcy watched as the lady marched out of the door with Mr. Wallace at her heels. He was startled by her manner, which was almost dismissive, but he was even more surprised that she had read Coke’s treatises on agriculture. It was most unusual for a lady.
***
Library
Longbourn
The Next Morning
17th October, 1811
Sir Thomas had never taken the opportunity to outfit a study in his home estate, preferring instead to see to business and correspondence alike at the desk in his well-stocked library.
Over time, Elizabeth had adopted the library and the same oak desk for her own use, and it was her own pen boxes that sat now in place of her father's across the japanned top.
A peaceful silence reigned in the library, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the rustle of papers.
Elizabeth sat in the chair behind the desk, a neat pile of letters sitting on a silver salver in front of her.
A missive addressed in Mary's precise hand sat atop the stack, and Elizabeth smiled to herself as she set it aside to read last. The next two documents were bills from the Meryton blacksmith and butcher.
The former would not provide any great surprises, as Mr. Milton, the blacksmith, had shod the Longbourn horses for two decades, and the bill was predictable each time.
Elizabeth opened the butcher's bill with some trepidation and quickly scanned the contents.
Upon seeing the total, she breathed a sigh of relief.
The damage was significant but not as bad as it could have been.
Lady Bennet felt it behooved her position in life to serve meat at every dinner, and she did not tend to stint on portions or variety, with the result that Elizabeth sometimes suffered financial indigestion as she rendered payment to the various merchants.
She wished that her mother would naturally exercise a certain amount of financial prudence, but that was, realistically, a mere daydream.
She was at least grateful that Lady Bennet had accepted that any out of the ordinary purchases should be checked with her second daughter before they were made.
It had taken a little convincing for Lady Bennet to accept that new gowns, especially for her many daughters, were indeed an out of the ordinary purchase, but she had eventually given in with reasonably good grace, and Longbourn's coffers suffered less as a result.
Elizabeth looked over at the small stack of thin leather-bound books on the far corner of the desk, drew the top one to herself, and opened it to a page half filled with neat columns of numbers in both her own and Mr. Wallace's handwriting.
She mentally subtracted the amounts to be paid to butcher and blacksmith, respectively, and nodded to herself.
Neither of her parents had ever displayed any interest towards saving for the future, and Longbourn had been solvent but not wealthy when Elizabeth took over management.
Considering that the estate brought in some two thousand pounds a year, Elizabeth had started making changes accordingly.
Curtailing an expense here, cutting out waste there, limiting discretionary spending money in yet another quarter, and reallocating funds back into the estate had swiftly built a respectable amount of savings for Longbourn.
The last letter on the stack was addressed in an unfamiliar hand, and Elizabeth frowned as she reached for it.
She shifted in her chair so that the light from the window caught on handwriting that was somehow at once cramped and loopy, and read it closely in growing befuddlement and vague amusement.
Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, 15th October
Dear Mr. Bennet,