Chapter 11 #2
Regrettably, this was in sharp contrast to Mr. Bennet, who had failed to set aside any savings for the upkeep of Mrs. Bennet and his five daughters upon his death, when Longbourn would pass on to a distant cousin.
Every penny went to expensive food, new wallpaper, new furnishings, and new clothes, and new books, and rare books, and first editions.
The Bennets did not live beyond their means, per se, but they did live right up to the edge of them.
Perhaps this was not unusual amongst gentle families, but it was foolish, especially given the entail.
Moreover, while the tenants of Longbourn were not exactly neglected, Mr. Bennet took little interest in improvements to the land or the estate, preferring instead to remain in his library and leave all such business to the bailiff.
As a landed gentleman, Mr. Bennet’s social status was higher than that of Mr. Gardiner, a successful businessman but still merely a merchant.
Yet Elizabeth could not help thinking that in the metric of a man, Mr. Gardiner, and Mr. Darcy too, were more to be admired than her father.
Mr. Gardiner was careful and meticulous in providing for his family, striking a sensible balance between present comfort and saving against future disaster.
He was honorable in his business dealings, shrewd in driving bargains, and upright in all his ways.
Elizabeth was not, of course, privy to the financial workings of Pemberley.
The estate’s master was hardly about to tell a guest all his business and dealings.
It was, however, well-known that it earned ten thousand pounds a year, a lavish income indeed.
It was, in fact, a considerable fortune, though Elizabeth knew that it was the fashion in London to gamble that much and more in a single week in the gaming hells frequented by the upper-crust gentlemen and nobility.
Her aunt had told her of such men, warning her against losing her heart to a handsome scoundrel who would never for an instant consider a dowerless wife.
Elizabeth knew that Mr. Darcy was not among that disreputable number.
He was far too responsible. Because of her injury, she had not been able to tramp Pemberley’s paths and wilderness.
She did not know, for instance, how well maintained the further tenant cottages and fields and drains and fences might be.
All she had seen of the estate she had glimpsed from the window on the drives to and from Pemberley.
Still, she recalled seeing neat patchwork fields outlined by sturdy stone walls with wooden stiles climbing over them.
The house servants, too, were well-dressed and wore an air of contentment, rather than the wooden correctness of unhappy staff.
They were bright in the eye, healthy in color, cheerful in their mien and, perhaps most tellingly, industrious in their work.
Good furniture could grow rickety and dull and dusty without proper care, but the wood of the tables and chairs shone with polish, the carpets were vibrant, and the mantels and shelves were innocent of any furring of dust. Laziness was not tolerated, but it was not fear that motivated the maids and the footmen, but loyalty to a good and kindly master.
Elizabeth thought approvingly of the previous night’s dinner at Pemberley, a plentiful spread, delicious and hearty.
It had not compared to the number of dishes that habitually graced the Longbourn dinner table.
Mrs. Bennet would have fainted with horror at the very idea of only having one or two meats to serve a guest, and a few vegetables, and no more than rolls and fruit to fill in the corners, as she put it.
Elizabeth was content. She had eaten her fill; the ham was tender and succulent and the vegetables cooked to perfection, the rolls soft and warm and flaky.
Instead of bemoaning the limited variety, she honored the prudence of the meals.
Despite not yet attaining the age of thirty, Elizabeth believed that Mr. Darcy displayed more wisdom than either of her own parents.
He had, of course, been required to mature very quickly.
At a young age, he had found himself responsible for the lives and well-being of a great many people, with the added responsibility of being the guardian of his young sister.
Miss Darcy certainly did him credit. The girl was delightful, as kind as her brother, with a keen intelligence of her own.
Though Elizabeth regretted the circumstances of their meeting, she was honored to count Miss Darcy as a friend.
“I think that is the inn,” Mrs. Gardiner said, leaning over to look out the window. Elizabeth leaned over as well, and then winced as her ankle twinged.
“The Golden Daffodil?” she asked, straightening up.
“A charming name,” Mrs. Gardiner said with a chuckle, “though I fear it is rather too late in the year for any daffodils to be blooming.”
“There are roses and peonies and cornflowers and daisies in the inn’s garden, too,” Molly said. “There is also a small pond and benches next to it.”
“It sounds beautiful,” Mrs. Gardiner said, smiling at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiled back, and then her thoughts shifted to the coming days, to a court where three individuals were being put on trial for a crime which could result in their deaths.
She had done her best to be at peace with it all, and she still believed that both Wickham and Mrs. Younge deserved death, but it was a dark thing to be involved in such a solemn affair.
“It is not your decision or your responsibility, Lizzy,” Mr. Gardiner said suddenly.
She turned in surprise and found her uncle gazing at her with great solemnity.
It was incredible how well he understood her thought processes, more so than her parents and siblings.
Even Jane, her older sister, was so determined to think well of those around her that she would not understand Elizabeth’s views on the matter.
“I know,” she said, as the carriage abruptly swung right and into the courtyard of the Golden Daffodil Inn. “I know.”