It also became clear right away that the Ashbury girls had a knack for creating intricate and beautiful designs. Their work sold quickly and demanded a premium price. The Ashburys found they needed to hire others in the community to keep up with demand. This elevated the Ashburys status among the peasants and they found they were earning more than they had in years. In short, Darcy’s experiment had been a spectacular success.
The Ashburys were careful to keep Darcy’s involvement in the endeavor quiet. They wanted to protect his reputation from being tarnished by having any connection to trade. But now with Mr. Bingley in their home, they could not hide their admiration for the great gentleman who had shown them so much kindness and had offered them the best of advice when they needed it most.
Mr. Bingley did not know if he voiced his thought out loud or if his confusion simply prompted a response, but Mr. Ashbury proudly explained that his family had gotten out of the spinning business and were now making cloisonné items. He walked his guest around the room and then led him out back, the entire time, pointing out the people working on various steps in the process and the equipment they used. Mr. Ashbury’s tour ended when he showed Bingley a few of the items that were completed and awaiting collection.
“Mr. Ashbury, the quality of these items is outstanding. I have seen similar pieces for sale in London.”
“Aye. Those are my little girls’ designs. They are quite a sensation in the city.”
“But how did you arrange for distribution, and how did you learn how to do this? And these powders you use for the colors, where do you find them?” Bingley owned several manufacturing businesses and the number of steps involved in establishing such a business was staggering. How had this family been able to navigate the process, and where had the initial capital come from?
Mr. Ashbury looked to his wife. Bingley could see they were nervous about answering his questions. “We have a partner who handles those details and arranged to teach us how to do the assembly. But our partner prefers to remain anonymous.”
Bingley immediately understood that Darcy was behind this scheme. Darcy had never needed to engage in trade, but the way he managed Pemberley and the advice he had offered Bingley throughout the years made it clear he was more than capable of starting and running any business should he choose. Actually, Darcy was capable of succeeding in any endeavor he set his mind to. Bingley would not press the Ashburys to divulge more, but he did want to know why his friend had suddenly decided to start up a business and why he had done so in Hertfordshire. Tomorrow he would be back in London and would pay the Master of Pemberley a call.
Chapter 24
Having recovered from the initial shock of the passing of her beloved father, Katherine’s attention was refocused on her grandfather’s business. Some of the town looked upon her actions with disapproval, but those with reproach had never known what it was like to be poor. She would do what she must to survive. She was adamant that her grandfather discontinue traveling to sell books to wealthy clients. He was now all she had left, and she could not bear to lose him too. “If I find you have made even one more trip, I will take your cart and donkey myself, ride into London, and sell them both. Do not dare think I won’t,” she told him emphatically.
Her grandfather had been reluctant to open up to her about the state of his affairs. He did not want to burden her further. But he was aging, and soon she would be alone. It was better she knew how tenuous was the string by which their lives hung. He showed her his business ledgers. After careful examination, she found the business did rely on someone to make monthly excursions to prominent customers, but she also discovered they need not continue visiting twenty homes. There were eight families responsible for generating ninety percent of their profits. It took further convincing, but faced with his own mortality, Katherine was able to persuade the old man to bring her along on his next set of visits to these eight homes. She had not voiced her plan, but after she knew the route, both knew she intended to be the one to travel the monthly trek.
∞∞∞
Darcy lay in bed tossing and turning. He could not get his mind to stay still. He had awoken that morning anxious but with an excitement that bordered on euphoria. He had physical symptoms of lightheadedness and nausea. Now that it was the evening, he still felt these sensations but for entirely different reasons. His excitement had been replaced with regret, anger, sadness, and humiliation.
He could not say that his proposal was elegant. In fact, he almost wished he could do it a second time just so he could do it properly. Why he had thought sharing his innermost fears had been the best approach at that moment, he could not say. Should he ever meet another woman with whom he could spend a lifetime, he would rethink his approach. But he would never again make Miss Elizabeth such an offer. Being brutally cast aside was simply too painful. No. He could not imagine enduring this experience a second time.
The sun crept above the horizon. It was now official. He had not slept at all that night. Instead, her words had replayed over and over in his mind. He could live with her rejection, but he could not endure the thought of her believing him to be so unjust and unfeeling. His pride demanded that he provide her with some much-needed context to explain the reasoning behind his actions. He might have been misguided in convincing Bingley that Miss Bennet appeared to have no affection toward him, but he had acted with noble intent. Wickham, however, was an entirely different matter. He had shown no error in judgment in his dealings with that swine and could not permit the fiend to stain his reputation by circulating such gossip. He had already given him far too much leeway. The thought of again facing Elizabeth seemed too painful and he doubted that she would humor him with a second audience. It would be best to defend himself against her accusations in writing.
After penning his letter, he hurried to the park where Elizabeth normally took her morning walks. It was several hours before he saw her and was able to place the missive in her hands. The encounter was very brief, which suited him well. His ego remained bruised, and beneath that pain, his heart was suffering greatly. It was difficult confronting her for even the brief minute required to hand her a letter. He could not fathom how painful a longer encounter might be. She was curious by nature and would likely want to read his letter before returning. He would take advantage of her delay and call at the Parsonage immediately. In this way, he could pay his respects to the Collinses but still avoid seeing her again before his departure.
Darcy’s plan to stay clear of Elizabeth worked perfectly, but he could not dodge his cousin as easily. The two sat in a carriage as it pulled away from Rosings Park. “It is fairly obvious from your mood and avoidance of Miss Elizabeth you no longer require my help in breaking the news of your engagement to my family,” Richard said hoping this might be sufficient encouragement to get his cousin talking. It was not. The two rode on in silence until Richard tried more forcefully. “Did you change your mind on the matter?”
“No,” Darcy mumbled. He turned his head and pretended to stare out the window, but in reality, he simply did not want to face another human. “I asked and she declined.”
Richard felt terrible. This possibility was one he had never considered. “I apologize. I had spoken with her often and had no notion that she was already attached to another.”
“I do not suspect she is. She is simply not interested in becoming attached to me.” It stung to say it, but Darcy felt he needed to repeat her rebuke if for nothing more than to help his heart accept that she was gone forever from his life. “I believe she used the words unjust, ungenerous, arrogant, selfish, and conceited to describe my character. In fact, I was told I am the last man in the world to whom she would consider marriage.”
The words were said with tranquility, but Richard could see by the strained muscles in Darcy’s neck and jaw that this conversation was tearing his cousin apart. He knew better than to press for more details. Richard felt guilt for prying. Darcy, however, appreciated being forced to speak her words out lou
d. Hearing her words once more made him look to the veracity of the accusations. He hoped his letter might soften Elizabeth’s memories of him, but now he wondered if it was not just her poor opinion that bothered him. She had rightly accused him of interfering with Bingley and Miss Bennet’s happiness. If Bingley felt half as awful as he did, and Miss Bennet truly did care for his friend, he had made a terrible error.
∞∞∞
If one is not a fan of watching a miserable man whose dreams have been dashed, one need only shift perspectives and look to the town of Meryton. Here Lydia Bennet had spent several successful weeks in pursuit of pleasure and gaiety. It was no secret that her parents had done little in life to rein her in, but with the absence of her two eldest sisters, Lydia had more freedom than ever to do as she pleased.
“I can’t understand why they would claim youth is wasted on the young. I plan to get every last ounce of fun I can out of my youth,” Lydia had been enjoying the extra attention she had been receiving during the absence of her two eldest sisters. Jane, being as pretty as she was, could not help but capture the attention of most of the soldiers. And prior to courting Miss King, Wickham had spent far too much of his time with Lizzy. Now, with both of her sisters and Miss King out of town, she had George all to herself, and she was rather enjoying the attention she was receiving from the rest of the officers. “I intend to go to every ball, and if there are no balls to be had, I will go to parties. Should there be no parties, I will dance in the rain. I will not squander my youth doing silly things like reading or learning an instrument. I can do that when I am old. If you ask me, it is more accurate to say, wealth is wasted on the dull.”
Wickham raised his glass to this sentiment. “You are wise beyond your years, fair maiden. I cannot agree more. I have known far too many dull people who have wasted their wealth.” Wickham thought of the piles of money Darcy owned sitting at that very moment within some bank vault. What a complete waste. If he could not take it with him, why not enjoy it?
Lydia was sitting at a table in Mrs. Forester’s parlor playing cards with a group of officers. Lydia had always been competitive, but she found being female gave her a distinct advantage. Not only had a little harmless flirting done wonders for her purse, she noticed it had elicited a few looks from Mr. Wickham that might be considered indecent. She could not deny the looks thrilled her.
“Well if I were wealthy, I should buy a whole closet full of clothes,” Lydia chirped. Her arms encircled the pot, and she drew it toward her. “And then, I would use the rest of my money to follow the regiment to Brighton and anywhere else all of you will be going. I think it is a crime they are moving you out of Meryton.”
“Based on your winnings tonight, I should expect to see you in a pretty new frock very soon,” Mrs. Forster said from another table. “Try not drive them all to the poor house, Lydia. My husband requires one or two of the officers to come to training.” Mrs. Forster had grown very fond of Lydia Bennet. “I will be loath to leave you, my dear. Is it really so very expensive to stay in Brighton for the summer?” It would be ever so lovely if the Bennets could join them there for a while. She had heard a great deal about the two elder sisters and would like to meet them.
“I had not considered that,” Lydia said as she mulled over the idea of convincing her parents to holiday in Brighton. It would be fun to spend the summer at the beach, and if she should happen to find herself a husband during their stay, the small expense would be well worth it. She would need to speak to her mother.
Wickham’s eyes lit up at the prospect of Lizzy staying in Brighton for the summer. He had been loath to give her up for Miss King’s fortune, but with that door now shut, he was anxiously awaiting her return. He wisely chose to say nothing. He knew as enticing as Miss Elizabeth was, he would never be happy as a pauper. Further, if he played his cards right, he might get more out of Lydia’s desire to make the most of her youth than he would from delightful conversations with her older sister.
When the evening ended, Lydia went home and began working to convince her mother of the wonderful benefits of vacationing at Brighton. Convincing Papa would be far easier if she first collected allies. Mary was a lost cause, but in no time, she had both her mother and Kitty bombarding Mr. Bennet with pleas to spend their summer at the beach.
Much to both Mrs. Bennet and Lydia’s surprise, Mr. Bennet held fast to his refusal of their plan. After two weeks of fruitless effort, Lydia determined she must gather reinforcement. Her father was practically giddy with the thought that Lizzy would be home in a few days’ time. His obvious excitement over seeing his favorite child gave Lydia an idea. If she could convince Lizzy to side with her, their father would surely cave. Lydia decided she would travel north and meet her sisters’carriage for the final hours of their journey. This would give her the opportunity to recruit Lizzy to her cause
.
Chapter 25
“Thank you, Sir Lucas, I am sure she will love it.” Katherine took the book from his hand and wrapped it in paper.
Sir Lucas had just purchased a book for his daughter Mrs. Collins. It had been the first sale all week, but even though the villagers frowned on her for being involved in a business better suited to a man, Katherine did not believe it was the reason for her poor sales. She laughed as she thought of how horrified people would have been if they knew her duties included business travel.
“Did you say something?” Mr. Lucas asked as she handed him the book wrapped in paper.
“No. I am sorry. It was just something caught in my throat.” Katherine scolded herself for laughing out loud, but she allowed her mind to drift back to her thoughts. Lizzy was aware of her trips, but she had been sworn to the strictest of silence. It was not altogether proper to go on such trips alone, and she would have preferred not to make them, but it was better than losing the family business and starving.
If that became common knowledge, she smiled, it might account for the loss in profits. But no, she could not blame others’ prejudices for her own failings. She did not have the charisma required to inspire purchases and was not suited for running a book shop. “Good night,” she called as Mr. Lucas left the shop. Katherine gathered her coat and went out the front door. She locked up the building as she remembered she needed to do some shopping before going home. Her mother had been a cook and had taught her these skills as a girl. Would her grandfather be disappointed if she abandoned the shop for such a job if could still manage to support them? She resolved to discuss it with him at dinner that night.
Mr. Carter sat in his living room when the little red flag above the front door caught his attention. It was waving, a sure sign someone was pulling the bell. Sometimes the neighborhood children would pull it just to tease him, but Katherine had not come home yet. She might have locked her house key in the store. Or it could be Miss Bennet. She would be going off to visit her cousin soon and from what he had gathered, that could make for a long visit without fresh reading materials.
He rose from his chair with more than a little difficulty and grabbed his cane. He opened the door. Before him stood a young man. Mr. Carter tried to explain to the man he would need to write down his request, but before a full sentence had left his mouth, Joshua Smith pulled out a club. In one swift move, he hit Mr. Carter in the head. The old man fell in a heap. Joshua stepped over the body and dragged it off to one side. He closed the door and waited.
When Katherine returned home, he heard her keys jingle.
She called out to her grandfather as the door opened. It was a force of habit, and even if he could not hear her, she liked to pretend. As soon as she closed the door, she felt an arm encircle her chest and a hand cover her mouth. She could not breathe. She saw her grandfather struggling to get off the floor and a man stepping on his head. She saw the blood and her grandfather collapse. Then, she passed out.
∞∞∞
Charlotte added the final stitch on the rose she was embroidering and lifted her head to stretch her neck. She caught sight of
Lizzy sitting near the window with an open book on her lap. It was a small volume and although she could not be certain, it seemed to Charlotte as if Lizzy had made little if any progress. She watched her friend for a moment to be sure. Lizzy’s eyes stared at the pages before her with a blank expression. There was no scanning of the words.
Charlotte withheld a sigh. Lizzy was clearly bothered. In months past, she would have confided in her. Charlotte was astute enough to notice upon the announcement of her engagement, the easy camaraderie they had shared had become strained. She had hoped this visit would ease the tension, and although it had somewhat, her friend no longer seemed willing to take her into confidence. Charlotte considered the timing of the shift in her friend’s mood as well as past conversations. It seemed likely Lizzy was troubled by the departure of a certain amiable colonel. Charlotte would not ask directly, but it could not hurt to open a conversation that would invite her friend to introduce the topic.
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