~ 10 ~ Business plans
We're on the way to Lady de Bourgh. In less than five minutes, she will finally have the book she wants and then she will be pleased. She's in the drawing room where Mister Darcy told us the story of his great-great-aunt.
"Where have you been for so long?" she greets us as we enter.
"Sorry, I couldn't find the book earlier," Finley replies, which is not even a lie.
We were thinking about how to explain to her that the book could not be removed from the library, when just a few minutes ago, we found another copy of it in one of the shelves in our new secret place. After all I've seen and suspected down there, I suppose it was Lady Hamilton's favourite book, which would explain why her sister wanted it to be hidden in the cellar along with everything else. After that she made a dummy of the book and placed it on the rotating shelf as a switch.
"Do you have any other task for me right now?" Finley asks politely.
As a result, Lady de Bourgh proves that she can actually smile. "Not if it takes you another three days to accomplish it. You may as well go back to playing hide-and-seek with your new friend."
The way she says it makes me raise an eyebrow.
"But before that, I'd like to have a word with her," she adds.
Oh no... The last time someone requested to "have a word" with me, it was Elizabeth, and it didn't end well. Judging by the way he winks at me when he leaves the room, Finley doesn't seem to take this seriously, but then again, he also didn't expect my sister to scold me after our meeting by the lake.
She's still smiling when we're alone, but that doesn't convince me to let my guard down. Quite to the contrary, actually. Lady de Bourgh is scary when upset, but even more so when she smiles.
"I talked to my nephew this morning," she informs me, and now I think I know what this might be about. "It took some persuasion, but he agreed to support you in your hobby."
"You mean my sewing?"
"It's the only one of your hobbies I know of," she says, shrugging. "So yes, that's what I mean. I basically told him what you told me; that you had to make a deal with the merchant because you couldn't afford to pay the full purchase price for the fabric you needed. Since he has much more money than he will ever need, I told him to sponsor you a bit. And you can probably imagine how determined I can be."
Indeed, I can imagine that very well.
"So from now on, as long as you don't betray his confidence by spending his money on anything silly, you can have as much of it as you wish," she continues.
I'm dumbfounded for almost a minute before I can finally reply. "But... why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?"
Shrugging once again, Lady de Bourgh looks away and starts gazing into space. "My family's past has shown in a rather unpleasant way what might happen if we don't appreciate the talent of creative people. I don't want to be like my grandmother, and I don't want you to end up like her sister."
She seems too nice, though, and so does Mister Darcy. Why is everyone so nice all of a sudden? "What's the catch?" I want to know.
Her eyes are on me again, one eyebrow raised, when she asks: "Why so distrustful? There is no catch. The only thing is that, as I already mentioned, you are expected to spend the money on worthwhile things, like fabric for the clothes you sew. If you're diligent, you might even sell some of them."
I still can't believe what I'm hearing. Lady Catherine de Bourgh, of all people, is just giving me business ideas.
"That's very kind of you, thank you," I manage to say, feeling ashamed for the rude way I treated her just yesterday when she asked me about the clothes in my room. But honestly, who would have known that this was going to happen?
"One might not expect it, but my servant Finley is quite talented at sewing too," she says. And she's right about it; he never mentioned that and I didn't expect it either. "I will give him a few more days off so he can help you. Seeing as you two seem to get on well with each other, I don't think either of you will mind."
"Thanks again."
She nods to me and then opens her book. "That's all I wanted to say. I'm not going to hold you up any longer."
Leaving her to her book, I walk out of the room, but the moment the door is closed behind me, I start running and skipping. I have a hobby, the talent for it, and money to spend for everything I need, plus the knowledge that Lady de Bourgh is not such a mean old witch after all! Can this day still get any better?
Not even that stupid frog figurine in the rose garden can ruin my good mood today when I trip over it and fly straight into a big shrub. After picking the thorns out of my arms, I return to my room to finish the hood I started, and when I present it to Mister White at the market the next day, he's more than just slightly impressed.
"This is beautiful!" he says, admiring what I made of the fabric he sold me for half of its original price. "I'm sure my wife will love it. If you hadn't made it for her, maybe I would even wear it myself."
We both laugh at his comment.
"Well then, does that mean I have proven myself a worthy customer of your high quality fabrics?" I ask afterwards, already having something else in mind that I'm planning to sew with his fabrics.
"Oh, sure! My assortment is all yours. Pick whatever you like, and perhaps we can make another deal."
"Thanks, but that won't be necessary this time," I explain, telling him briefly that I now have enough money to pay the full price for everything thanks to the support of my family at Pemberley.
Mister White looks somewhat sad afterwards. "So no more deals from now on?"
"As I said, I guess it's no longer necessary. And that's for the best, don't you think? You won't have to wait and I won't have to keep promises anymore."
"What if I want to wait?" he asks, causing me to give him an amused look when he goes on: "Look, I'm a merchant. I'm used to making deals. The last time you bought my fabric, you offered me to use whatever was left of it to make a hood for my wife. So you did. But you also said you could sew a scarf for me."
"Correct," I agree, beginning to have a hunch where this is going.
"How about another deal? I sell you this for half the original price again," he points at the fabric I'm about to buy, "and you once again use the remainder of it to sew something for me, a scarf this time."
Feeling flattered, but keeping Lady de Bourgh's idea in mind, I make him a different offer. "I might as well pay the full price, but sew a scarf for you nevertheless, and if you want it, you can pay me whatever you think is appropriate."
"Alright, I like the sound of that too," he says, shaking my hand. "If you keep making deals like this with other people too, you might become a pretty successful merchant yourself someday."
"That's the point," I tell him, and he lets me pay for the fabric.
He isn't disappointed when I come back two days later to buy new fabric as well as to show him the scarf. In fact, he likes it so much he buys it for a lot more than I'd ever have asked for it.
"That's way too much," I say, but he insists.
In the end he pays me almost as much for the scarf as I paid him for the fabric, and I figure that if I also sold the pair of gloves I made, my income would definitely be a lot higher than my expenses. He asks for another deal too, and I can't refuse him. It seems like Mister White, the merchant, has become my new best friend. Or one of them, at least.
When I get home after that, a letter from Mary is waiting for me; the answer to the one I sent her a couple of days ago. She tells me that our parents are in good health and apparently none of them is missing me so far, Maria Lucas is now called Maria Harrington and I didn't miss anything special by not appearing at her wedding, and I shall give Elizabeth everyone's regards.
Seems like not much has changed since my departure. For me, however, something has changed, and I quickly return to my room to answer the letter, telling Mary as much as I know about Lady Hamilton, the legend of her transforming into a cat and the secret cellar room behind the shelf before getting to the part about me, not sure if she's going to believe any of it.
"Of course I don't know if this is all true, but I'm sure it was Mister Darcy's great-grandmother who installed the secret door in the library. Unless she had help with that, I really wonder why she didn't support her sister's unusual lifestyle instead of criticising it. She could have become an engineer of some sort while her sister was a veterinary. But no, she chose to be a good housewife instead, like most women do. Don't get me wrong, I want to be a good housewife too, but... ugh, I'm afraid I would go crazy if that was the only purpose in my life.
And apparently, it isn't anyway. Mary, you won't believe what happened! There's a merchant at the market place, not far from here, who is very fond of the clothes and accessories I sew. He asks for a deal with me every time I go there! Now he wants me to create a rather complicated handbag for his wife, but I'm sure I'll be able to do so if given enough time. In fact, I'm quite happy about the challenge. And buying fabric shouldn't be a big issue anymore, now that Lady de Bourgh (yes, that Lady de Bourgh) has convinced Mister Darcy to give me money for it whenever I need it. Isn't that great?
Unfortunately, not everything looks bright at the moment, and Mister Darcy doesn't make everyone as happy as me. Lizzie, for example. To be honest, I don't even know if I'm allowed to tell you this... probably not. But Jane knows it too, of course, and we're sisters, after all. I trust you not to say a word to our parents, though. They shouldn't be worried.
I always assumed Lizzie and Mister Darcy were the perfect couple, but apparently they're not. She wants to have children, he doesn't, and because of that she's been rather erratic lately. I'm still a little mad at her because of an argument we had, but it makes me unhappy to see her that way, and since I'm known to cause problems rather than solve them, I'm going to ask you: Can you think of anything I could say or do to make her feel better?
Yours, Kitty"
I make sure the letter leaves Pemberley as soon as I'm done writing it, and it doesn't take Mary long to answer.
"Dear Kitty,
I don't know what to make of your story about that poltergeist, but it makes me glad that you're enjoying your time at Pemberley. There's one thing in particular about your latest letter that caught my attention: You said you would go crazy if being a good housewife was your only purpose in life. The last time we talked about a similar topic, you were still desperate to find a good man, marry him and be his housewife because you didn't know what else to do with yourself. You seem to have changed your mind on the subject, and I think we can classify that as good news.
This part of her letter makes me smile, but – I should have guessed so before – Mary wouldn't be Mary if she didn't address the other topic, Elizabeth's marital problems, in a way that is not really helpful. My sister knows as little about marriage as I do, probably even less, and so she quotes a few passages from her favourite romance novels that deal with the subject.
I merely skim those passages and after that, I'm just as wise as before. At the end of the letter, she asks me to keep her up to date about my business with Mister White and my new old hobby. I write to her as soon as possible.
"Dear Mary,
I visit the market place almost every day now, and today I finally got to know Mister White's wife – lovely woman! She was wearing the hood and the handbag I'd made for her.
But that's not the only news. I don't know if Mister White told them or if they have taken notice of me all by themselves, but during the last few days, more and more merchants have been requesting similar deals with me. You know, I'm planning to stitch a beautiful picture for Elizabeth to cheer her up a bit, and when I bought the thread from an old woman, she asked me to stitch a specific picture for her as well, telling me that even though she sells everything one needs to stitch, she can't stitch herself.
A few minutes later, another woman asked my advice on what she was wearing. She couldn't find a coat to go with her dress, and when I told her what kind of colours I thought would be fitting, she asked me to sew a coat for her, offering some money in return...
I could go on, but I don't want to bore you. Anyway, I have a lot to do with all those requests at the moment, and I consider myself lucky that Lady de Bourgh allowed Finley to help me. You remember him, right? The cheeky servant I told you about in my last letter. We're friends now. Whenever I'm fed up with all the sewing and he has nothing else to do, we quickly find a way to kill time together.
Yesterday we lent some of Pemberley's horses to ride out, but I fell off Camilla's back seven times within an hour. The day before, we went fishing on a small lake not far from the castle, but instead of me pulling the fish out of the water, the fish pulled me into the water. It was so embarrassing! But then again, Finley tends to laugh at me anyway, no matter if I do something right or wrong. He's always laughing, grinning, or at least smiling. It can drive you crazy after a while! But I'm not complaining. It's not like I don't like the way he smiles.
Anyway, I have to get back to work now. The sooner I manage to finish the picture for Lizzie, the better. You should see it, it's such a beautiful scene! You would call it cheesy, but I find it romantic: A bride and a groom holding hands and looking into each other's eyes, a sunset in the background. There's a writing above their heads that says: "In good times as in bad." If I use different colours and change their hair styles a little while I'm stitching the picture, I might be able to make them look like our sister and Mister Darcy. What do you think?"
"Dear Kitty,
I'm sure your popularity at the market place is not a coincidence. You mentioned the possibility of Mister White having told the others about your talent, and that's probably what happened. This doesn't make it any worse, however. You are doing a good thing and you should stick to it.
You're right about the picture of the bride and the groom, I find it cheesy, indeed. But reminding a quarrelling couple of the promise they made to each other when they got married is probably one of the best ways of reconciling them. Just make sure not to get all worked up about it - after all, it is still their problem, not yours, and while your benevolent attempts to help them certainly speak for you, in the end it's up to them to fix their marriage.
As for Finley, I'm not being funny or anything, but the way you describe his smile makes you seem like you're madly in love with him. Considering our mother's attitude, however, I'm sure she'd rather have you marry a servant than end up as a spinster.
I wish you luck with all of your projects, and as always, keep me up to date!
Yours, Mary"