Play No Evil （Free Indirect Discourse） #3
The trio sat in the parlour. Being quite an observant man, Mr Read noticed a few of their signs immediately.
It took only the slightest brush of a hand to have Miss Bennet and Miss de Bourgh seated simultaneously.
Miss Bennet appeared a knowledgeable woman who could thoroughly dominate a conversation if she chose, yet she did not.
She participated, listening carefully; though he suspected she listened to him more closely than to Anne.
He wondered if the blind truly could hear more, or wring more meaning out of what was said than others, but that conversation must wait for another day.
“What brings you from Ohio to New York, Mr Read?” asked Miss Bennet after they had taken tea.
Read watched Miss de Bourgh carefully. They had touched on this and a few other subjects lightly the night before, but he had been so fascinated with her tales of England that he had not explored it in depth.
“A canal. I am the quintessential American success story. I am an only child, left with no real fortune, but I have my wits about me, and I have made a reasonable success moving things from people that have them to those that want them. I would like to improve that process to my own profit and that of my neighbours, so I am here to help get a grand canal built.”
He looked for the telltale sneer common among the English upper classes he had done business with—the look that suggested they considered ‘trade’ beneath them, despite the fact that they would not be talking to him were they not already engaged in it themselves.
Few people were more able to turn a blind eye to their own foibles and inconsistencies than the English gentry, but his observations were for naught.
Neither of the ladies seemed to think there was the slightest stench to trade. In fact, they both looked fascinated.
Miss Bennet in particular, looked like one of the bears he had once seen in the Canadas, pouncing on a fish in a stream. She wanted to know all about his business, and he suspected by that she meant all of his business.
“There is a proposal to build a great canal from New York to Ohio. It would be three hundred miles or so with several locks, much like your Brightwater canal in England. I want to help build one here.”
The ladies leaned forward, eager for details, and he cautiously began a tale of intrigue and politics, bribes and winners and losers, elevations and drainage, locks and waterways and economics.
“Ohio grows a great deal of grain. Grain is heavy and difficult to move, which makes it expensive; so, a good deal of it is made into whisky, which is less profitable and heavily taxed, but easier to move. I want to help transport it to cities like this one that need bread to engage in trade of all sorts. I also believe my neighbours might engage in all types of industries if they could get the goods to market. I want to do my part to build this nation. It is a mercantile nation, founded on trade and industry, especially here in the North, and trade requires things to be moved. We want to build an artificial river, ladies… or at least a stream.”
Elizabeth was fascinated, and Anne interested; though an hour into it, neither lady could be torn away from the discussion.
It seemed Mr Read was a man of significant ambitions.
The canal could be the making or ruin of an entire territory.
The increased trade alone might be enough to drive the place towards statehood, and he was there at the very beginning.
His dreams were vast. First, move the considerable bounty of the fields, and then follow with some of the new manufactories and mills that were starting to change the world.
After a time, Anne said, “Since you stand not on ceremony, would you consider staying for luncheon, Mr Read?”
All three laughed, and Mr Read observed both ladies carefully while accepting their invitation.
A bell pull was rung, and a footman came to arrange the meal, while the three carried on their conversation.
Mr Hopkinson had joined them some time earlier, and he turned out to possess certain knowledge that might be useful.
“Mr Read, I apologise I missed the first part of your discussion. There was a crisis involving a pianoforte, and apparently damage to ears matching Lizzy’s damage to her head.”
Mr Read looked puzzled, until Mr Hopkinson surprised everyone when he walked over to the pianoforte and played a simple tune. He played it correctly, but the sound issuing from the instrument would have put a cat off a mouse.
Mr Read laughed. “Crisis, indeed. The world in general, and particularly every dog in the neighbourhood, will thank you, Mr Hopkinson. I can see why Miss Bennet was so offended she decided to try to destroy the instrument with her head.”
The two men laughed good-naturedly, and Mr Hopkinson carried on. “My son actually worked for a time both building and running the Brightwater canal in England. I learned a few things about canals, and would be happy to arrange an introduction.”
Mr Read took that news with eager interest, as did the ladies, and they carried on for quite some time, trying their best to draw every salient detail Mr Hopkinson could remember.
Mr Read did in fact stay for luncheon, and retired with the ladies back to the parlour after they were done, seemingly confused about the duration of a polite visit, which did not distress anybody.
Mr Hopkinson left them together to deal with the pianoforte and a few other duties, promising to talk to Mr Read another time about any details they might have missed.
After his departure, Elizabeth said, “So I see you are most interested in the canal. Is that what brought you to town, sir? Did you have some specific tasks to accomplish that will help advance this dream?”
Mr Read studied her, and noticed Anne studying the lady as well.
He also noticed Miss Bennet listening with a different expression than she had worn while they idly talked about canals.
She had turned her head unconsciously at an angle, he assumed to give her ears a better chance of hearing him, and he suspected this was an important question.
There was little doubt that Miss Elizabeth’s opinion mattered in this house, and he suspected the lady would be difficult to fool.
She seemed someone who had her wits about her far more than any others of his acquaintance.
Fortunately, he had no intention of engaging in such a foolhardy venture, so he determined to use his customary American bluntness.
“I originally came to town with the express intention of helping move this project along, thus establishing my own fortunes and those of many others. There are political factors at work, and I have some small skill in the arena.”
His emphasis on the word originally was barely a whisper above his usual tone, but noticeable to Miss Bennet.
“Originally, sir?”
He smiles softly. “Since I arrived, I have become aware of certain… other goals.”
“Might you elaborate?” Miss de Bourgh asked, so he gave her his full attention.
“Now, I discover I am in want of a wife.”
Miss de Bourgh’s animated face dropped much as if he had casually mentioned a search for an economical mistress.
“Well, do not let us delay you,” the lady said timidly. “You should be courting.”
He had not been as clear as he liked, even with his customary bluntness. He resolved to correct the misunderstanding immediately.
“I am courting, Miss de Bourgh! I am courting right now, and have been every moment since I became aware of my lack. Can you be unaware?”
Now there was not the slightest doubt. Miss Bennet listened as intently as it was possible to listen, and Miss de Bourgh might panic and conclude he courted Miss Elizabeth.
She had the look of a lady who did not expect a man to court her…
as if the very idea were foreign. Of course, courting Miss Bennet would be a fine idea, and in fact the best idea in the world, for the right man.
Mr George Read was not that man, or at least he had not been for the past twelve hours.
Bidding all semblance of propriety a fond goodbye, he surprised both ladies by sliding from his chair and landing on his knees, exactly in the middle between the two so they formed the points of a triangle.
He further compounded the sin by reaching over to take both ladies’ hands in his own, and hoped fervently they would hear him out.
“Let me be clear. I am courting you, Miss de Bourgh, and I am courting your good opinion, Miss Bennet, as I know that none of my desires will prevail without it.”
Anne sat in stunned silence, while Elizabeth sat in careful silence, listening for the slightest hint of dishonesty.
“I know this is sudden, and you could in no way have decided anything in a few hours’ acquaintance, but know that I am resolute and my intentions are honourable.”
He gave both hands a gentle squeeze. “I do not seek your fortune. You must watch for fortune hunters with every new acquaintance, but I do not need it. Our laws here are as barbaric as they are in England; should we wed, I would control any fortune you might bring, but I hope you trust me to understand that is your fortune, not mine. In fact, I would happily secure it in a trust or settlement to pass to our children intact. I do not want your fortune. I want you!”
“Why?”
He wondered if he could distil all the thoughts and feelings of the last day to a few words, and decided he must make the attempt.
“It is partly just a matter of faith. I felt you were the missing piece that would complete me the moment I laid eyes on you. I have no idea how I found the initial attraction, but I did, and even stranger, I summoned my courage and pursued it. I believe you will complete me, and I believe it strongly enough to wager both our lives on it.”
“After less than four and twenty hours?”
That was a question he could handle.