August 1811
Today was Pemberley's account day.
Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Harding sat around the small table in Darcy's study. Darcy chatted amiably with them while they waited for Mr. Henry to arrive. The lawyer was soon brought up, and he waved good-naturedly before settling onto the brown sofa next to Mr. Harding.
Almost every quarter his pile of debt shrank and his income grew. The regular review of his affairs was useful, but Darcy loved the ritual of it.
Darcy jovially greeted Mr. Henry, "Did your niece's wedding go well?"
"It was a beautiful ceremony — my sister cried, but she is prone to emotion. Sophie was ecstatic, and her young gentleman properly serious and enamored." Mr. Henry grinned. "The breakfast was excellent, and there was dancing in the afternoon. An exemplary country wedding. They shall do well together. He is already well-established, and I heard a very good report from the senior partner in his firm."
Mrs. Reynolds said, "I am glad to hear that — I recall when I gave the girl a tour of Pemberley." The housekeeper turned to Darcy. "That was during your father's time. She was a sweet young thing."
Darcy said, "Your family must be pleased for her to be so well-settled."
"Yes, though my sister shall miss her daughter a great deal. Oh — I heard an excellent one at the wedding."
Mr. Harding perked up and rubbed his hands together, while Mrs. Reynolds rolled her eyes. Mr. Henry collected jokes and anecdotes about lawyers. Darcy had heard many of them when he visited the Inns of Court as a student.
Mr. Henry spoke, bobbing his blonde head, "What is the similarity between a lawyer and an apple?"
"I have heard this one." Darcy shook his head. "It is not the best."
Mr. Henry pouted and then grinned again and gave the punchline to the other members of their group, "They both look especially well when hanging from a tree."
Mrs. Reynolds pursed her lips to keep from smiling and shook her head in mock disapproval. Mr. Harding barked out a laugh. "I enjoyed that one — do you recall the one you told at our last meeting? What is the distinction between a judge and the Almighty?"
Mr. Henry's eyes brightened. "Oh yes."
Darcy smirked. "The Almighty knows he is not a judge."
Everyone laughed, and then Darcy asked Mr. Harding to list out the rents received during the quarter. It was odd that Darcy was so relaxed with his staff while being known in society as stiff and haughty. He found it difficult to relate to his peers. They were obsessed with superficial concerns and the pursuit of empty pleasures.
He was only intimate with Bingley and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. But they were enough.
Mr. Harding took his carefully written account book out and read from it in a clipped tone. Once he listed the rents, he described the prices received for the various goods directly sold by Pemberley and then finally the estate expenses and taxes. Darcy kept a tally in his head of the numbers, and when Mr. Harding finished Darcy said, "My sum suggests we earned somewhat less than fourteen thousand in the past year? Is that your value?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very good." Darcy smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Harding."
There was a simple joy in the receipt of rents and reduction of debts. Darcy did not think he was greedy; he certainly did not squeeze his tenants or servants. But he loved owning a well functioning estate that created huge sums of money every quarter.
The cotton mill had caused the biggest increase in his income. It had been his uncle's idea. Several of the mills which Mr. Arkwright built in the Derwent Valley were on the Matlock estate, and they had made his grandfather and uncle wealthier.
Enough water flowed through Pemberley's land to support a mill, and Lord Matlock naturally wished his brother-in-law to share in his own good fortune. However, George Darcy refused the advice: It would be beneath the dignity of the Darcy name to participate in such a low endeavor; it would encourage the growth of new fortunes; and those large brick buildings were unsightly.
Upon his accession to the estate, Darcy eagerly made an arrangement with a manufacturer. Rather than buying the lease of one of his tenants to find room, Darcy tore up a third of his park. Old trees — many of which he had already decided to cut and sell to the Navy — elaborate gardens, and half the deer park had been removed to make room for the mill and living space for the workers. The stream had been dammed, creating a large mill pond. Now the sound of the running waterwheel and clanking machines was usually audible, though barely, in the distance.
The rest of the park had been turned to productive use as well. Rather than paying more than a hundred pounds a year to keep a vast neatly mowed lawn, Darcy had meadows for his best breeding animals. Most of the ornamental gardens had been replaced with vegetable gardens whose produce was sold to the mill workers. The orangery still operated, but almost all its production was sold as well.
Darcy missed the old forests and freely running stream, but the rolling green land around was beautiful. He loved the constant hum of productive activity, the view of grazing cows and horses from his window, and the laughter of the apprentice children attached to the mill on Sundays.
After Mr. Harding's report, it was Mrs. Reynold's turn to describe the household expenses.
Darcy always had her list each item, even though most were the same every quarter. As Mrs. Reynolds described exactly how much in wages had been paid to each servant, how much the feed for his horses had cost, and how much his food cost in fuel and ingredients his mind wandered.
Mrs. Reynolds continued, "Three hundred fifty for the rent and establishment in Ramsgate for Miss Darcy. One hundred fifty for her allowance and the salary for companion. Ninety-five pounds for the piano you purchased as a surprise for Miss Darcy's return."
"It arrived?" Darcy sat more alertly.
He had always been close to Georgiana, but this past year she had been difficult. He had been scornful when she asked for a greater allowance. He was comfortable being thought an impoverished eccentric, but Georgiana was young, and she had been terribly over indulged by her father. He should have been kinder.
Hopefully, a full size Broadwood would make a fine peace offering. Georgiana adored the piano, and Darcy loved it when she begged him to listen to a piece she had practiced.
She had gained her affection for the instrument while at school, so the expense of sending her back after Father died had not been completely wasted.
"It came two days ago while you dined at the Windhams." Mrs. Reynolds replied, "Their man set it up in the main drawing room, and one of the maids who had some skill with music tested it before we sent him off with the pay. It sounded very well, Miss Darcy will be ecstatic when she sees it."
"I hope she shall."
Georgiana had wanted a larger allowance, like the other girls at school. Darcy had lived for three years at Cambridge on less than he already gave her.
He did not want her to become like their father.
When he refused, Georgiana had stormed and cried and said she never wanted to see him again because all he cared about was money. Then she begged to not be returned to school because she was too embarrassed to face the other girls.
Darcy remembered being embarrassed about money. It had been painful, but he was a better man for having endured it. He nearly sent her back to the school on the principle that she should learn not to care. But, the biggest lesson his sister had received from the hundreds of pounds of tuition paid each year was that she had an obligation to spend as much money as she could.
He had been a numbskull when he sent her back to a school chosen by Father.
It would only compound the error to force her to return. Darcy agreed to let Georgiana leave school and live under the supervision of a companion for a few months while finishing her studies. Mrs. Younge had been found through a friend of Colonel Fitzwilliam. Georgiana had wanted to be on the seaside, so he rented a house for her in Ramsgate.
When Darcy traveled to the town with Georgiana to make sure all of the affairs were sound, they argued again when the size of the house and number of servants disappointed her. She had been taught how to properly run a household at her school, and it required more money. They parted on poor terms.
He had failed in raising her.
There had been too much influence from her father. She was ten, past the most impressionable age, when Father died. It was obvious in retrospect that close association with other wealthy girls would encourage her in that reckless mindset which valued expense and luxury while despising responsibility.
He should have hired a governess and kept her at Pemberley.
When she returned from Ramsgate, he would do a better job. He would throw out the useless curriculum that taught girls to paint tables and net purses. Instead he would take Georgiana around Pemberley with him, so she could understand how much effort went into producing the wealth she casually wanted to waste. He would make her understand.
Darcy missed his sister. She was sweet and enthusiastic and made the big house brighter when she was home.
Twice he almost decided to visit her. But Darcy always had matters of pressing business. More importantly, she wished to be on her own, and perhaps she would be happiest without his watching eye for a few more weeks.
Mrs. Reynolds completed her list. "Including the higher expenses for Miss Darcy's care, over the past year you spent twenty-nine hundred pounds."
"Very good," Darcy replied distractedly. He fiddled with the stack of papers in front of him. "Mr. Harding, you have a daughter near Georgiana's age. How do you manage her? I cannot make my sister understand the importance of discipline and frugality."
"Do not ask me for advice — my wife mainly raises her. I only know she is the sweetest and most irresistible creature when she wishes a special treat or a new dress. It is Mrs. Harding who will tell her no."
Darcy made an unhappy face.
"She will grow up eventually. Do not worry over much, Mrs. Harding assures me they are all silly until much older. Miss Darcy is a good girl."
"I hope so."
Mrs. Reynolds said, "Fifteen is a trying age. The dear girl will become wiser as she grows. I know it."
Darcy wanted to puff out his cheeks, slump in his chair, and sigh loudly.
Maybe, she would not grow wiser as she became older, and his errors would be the cause. He could not whine and show such weakness in front of his employees. Though he considered them his friends, he still was the Darcy of Pemberley and their master.
Darcy sat straighter. "Time will tell. Mr. Henry, your report."
Mr. Henry listed the terms of each new lease negotiated during the past quarter and said, "The payment we made this quarter to Hoare's bank was the last money we owed them. In total we reduced the debts by seventy-five hundred pounds this year. Interest payments for the year were a little less than thirty-three hundred. Your total debts are now sixty-one thousand pounds."
The lawyer took off his spectacles and smiled. "I noticed while preparing the figures that this was the first twelvemonth since you took the estate when your income after interest was greater than ten thousand pounds."
Darcy grinned. "So, I am worth the ten thousand a year Pemberley was always supposed to earn."
"If you wish to boast about it, you ought to dress the part. Otherwise your listeners may not believe you."
Darcy frowned. Over the years Mr. Henry had gone from fearing he would turn into a spendthrift like his father to not so subtly encouraging Darcy to spend more and enjoy life more. If the man had not become a friend, Darcy would have been offended by the out of place suggestion from a subordinate. But, being obsessed with one's dignity and protecting the distinction of rank was the attitude of the worthless members of the gentry who paid no attention to the labor required to produce their money.
This was one of the few matters Darcy agreed with his father about. George Darcy had always encouraged informality and friendship among his employees. His closest friend had been the previous steward. Mr. Wickham senior had been an excellent steward devoted to the family's interests. It was not a dangerous self-indulgence to follow that example.
"I do not care to impress anyone. Those who know me can judge my character. That is enough. I shall not dress to suit the income of a man with ten thousand a year until all my father's debts are gone."
"You should not deny yourself every indulgence while you are young."
"I enjoy my life well enough. You speak out of concern, and I will not take offence, but this is not a matter I shall budge upon. In any case, should no serious problem arise, I shall be clear well before I am five and thirty. I shall still be young enough to kill myself on a fast horse chasing some poor fox while imitating the style of Beau Brummel."
The way Mr. Henry peered at him showed skepticism combined with having taken the message. Then he frowned. "Did you consider Miss Darcy's dowry? By my calculation you will be six and thirty at least before you could set aside a fund to cover it. Most likely she will marry before then. Though if rents continue to rise" — he grimaced, showing he did not think it likely — "it would be faster."
"I thought about it. My sister, and her heirs, should never be at risk of destitution in the way she was during my father's life. I would not give permission to a gentleman unwilling to accept a settlement which only gave him the income from her money. Then I can secure the principal against Pemberley and pay Georgiana's income out of mine. Since I shall never need to suddenly find thirty thousand pounds, I consider it more a future expense than a debt. It perhaps is a fatuous conceit, but…" Darcy spread his hands out wide.
"I consider that a sensible view," Mrs. Reynolds spoke before anyone else replied, "and you do spend six or seven hundred pounds upon Miss Darcy each year. You shall be the loser by less than it appears."
"Have you considered marriage?" Mr. Henry spoke, "It is not my place to advise you on such a matter, but a large dowry would do much to bring forward the day when you are free of debt."
"I have not thought much upon it." Darcy shrugged. "I wish my marriage to be more than a mercenary arrangement to acquire the largest dowry possible. And most heiresses are spoiled and would spend more than the income brought by their dowry."
The girls Georgiana wished to impress and their older sisters would make poor wives for a man such as him.
"Besides," Darcy continued, "It would not be such an easy task as you believe for me to find an heiress to marry. Many believe I am on the brink of bankruptcy. Most in London would be shocked if they learned my income was even half what it is in truth. Few heiresses would attach themselves to an austere country gentleman with little wealth."
Mr. Henry began to speak, "That —" He cut himself off. "It really is not my place to advise you in this matter."
"What about Miss Bingley?" Mrs. Reynolds asked, "She spoke admiringly of how you managed the house and claimed the economies we use are charming. I think she admires you; any sensible lady would. Her brother would put no obstacle to such a marriage." Mrs. Reynolds eyes sparkled. "He is the easiest mannered gentleman and such an excellent friend for you."
Darcy shrugged. He was not going to insult a gentlewoman, but he did not trust Miss Bingley's professed love of economy. While she might ecstatically claim she wanted to live simply and spend little, Bingley complained about how she begged for a little more money a few weeks before every quarterly payment of her allowance.
More importantly, while somewhat attractive, she was not to his taste. Miss Bingley knew how much he was really worth, and he did not want to marry a woman who would pretend to be a type of person she was not to attract a wealthy husband.
Mrs. Reynolds wanted little Darcy children to run about the house, but Darcy did not expect to marry until his debts were cleared, and even if he did, it would not be to Miss Bingley.
Mr. Darcy smiled at Mrs. Reynolds but shook his head slightly. "Is there any other business we should discuss?"
In a few minutes more the other three left Darcy's study. He straightened his papers and smiled at the numbers. Only a bit more than sixty thousand left. It would not be many more years. Life was going splendidly.
A footman knocked and entered, delivering Darcy's mail. One letter caught his eye. The curve of the letters was familiar, and the address showed it to be from Scotland. He did not have any acquaintance who might correspond with him in Scotland. Something about the letter gave a cold chill, blowing away his pleasant mood.
When had he seen that handwriting?
There were two papers folded inside the letter. One was in Georgiana's hand. With a sick dread Darcy unfolded it.
AN: Hello again, and thanks for continuing to read. What do you think the letter will contain...
The first chapter author notes were somehow not saved, but I added the acknowledgements for my lovely betas on this book, whose work is deeply appreciated.
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