“You seem to have something on your mind,” said Jane gently. “I would be happy to listen if you wish to share.”
Mary paused in her work but quickly resumed it. “It is nothing,” she said, hoping Jane would let it go.
She didn’t. “Does it have to do with Mr. Goulding’s return?”
Mary just barely suppressed an audible groan. “What makes you say that?”
“Nothing much,” said Jane. “I have noticed that he seems to single you out, but you don’t seem to be particularly pleased with the attention.”
Mary was silent for a time. Her fingers continued to move as she gathered her thoughts. She was grateful that Jane gave her time to do so, since her attention, too, went back to her work.
“He has always singled me out in one way or another,” said Mary slowly. “Although, in the past his attention was rather more hurtful than polite or kind. I do not know why he has been trying to talk to me since returning to Hertfordshire, since it is entirely unlike the young man I knew before he left. I suppose I am simply confused.”
“Have you ever heard anyone say that young boys will often tease a girl they like?” asked Jane.
“I have heard such things,” said Mary. “I always discounted the idea, however. It tends to be brought up in conversations between mothers when they seem to have nothing better to do than matchmake, even if the subjects of their conversation are far too young for such things. The idea itself also never made any sense. Why would a boy want to hurt a girl, either physically or emotionally, if he likes her?”
“I am not an expert, mind you, but I suspect that in such situations he is simply trying to get her attention,” said Jane. “He probably isn’t thinking about what kind of attention he might get. Young boys, and even young men, are not known for thinking about the consequences of their actions before acting. If they were, they would never climb trees or gallop horses across uneven ground.”
“I suppose you are correct,” said Mary, “but it doesn’t make the things he said any less hurtful.”
“Is he still saying unkind things?” asked Jane.
Mary shook her head. “No. Not since his return from London.”
“Perhaps, then, his experiences in London have helped him grow up a bit. Perhaps, he has learned to think of the consequences of his choices.”
“Perhaps,” said Mary. She pondered Jane’s words and combined them with her own experiences and observations. After a couple of minutes of silence, she said, “Are you implying that you think Alan likes me?”
“I have always thought he likes you,” said Jane. “Even when you were twelve and he was fifteen, and he pushed you into the mud. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised to find that he is old enough and mature enough to be very much in love with you.”
“That is not possible.” The words burst out of Mary’s mouth without her even thinking.
“And why isn’t it possible?” asked Jane.
“Because I am the plain one, the boring one, the pedantic one, and I have no redeeming features to make up for those weaknesses.”
Jane did not reply immediately, and the longer the silence between them lasted, the worse Mary felt.
“Men are odd creatures,” said Jane. “If beauty was all they were interested in, only one in ten ladies would ever get married. Despite what Mama says, it is impossible to predict what will attract a man, what will make him fall in love. As for Mr. Goulding, your looks obviously have little to do with it. He liked you when you were twelve, before acquiring any sort of womanly figure. He liked you when you were fifteen when you were still awkward with your new height and figure. It is clear he likes you now, when you are far more confident than I have ever seen you.”
“I noticed that you didn’t argue with my self-deprecations,” said Mary.
“I did not argue, because the argument would be pointless. You have a view of yourself that seems to be set in stone, no matter what anyone tells you. If you haven’t noticed, Mama is the only one of the family who still criticizes you, and even she does so rarely since you have been paying more attention to your appearance. What matters is not how I see you, but how you see yourself. If it helps, I have thought for some time that you have grown to be quite a lovely young lady, and I am pleased to call you Sister.”
Mary smiled, though she still did not look up from her work. “Thank you, Jane. I couldn’t ask for a better sister than you.”
Chapter 7
Though Elizabeth and her father had only intended to stay in London for a fortnight, it was the fourteenth of October before they finally came home. There had been a mountain of paperwork to deal with, and they were reminded repeatedly that the cogs of the legal system moved slowly, so it couldn’t all be done in a single day.
First, there was the paperwork that transferred Mrs. Blythe’s property to Elizabeth. There were separate documents for each of the houses as well as each of the investments and Mrs. Blythe’s bank account.
Then there was additional paperwork for Elizabeth to sign over ownership of the Cheapside townhome to Uncle Gardiner.
Finally, there was a great deal of work to do to determine which investments to sell and which to keep. With Uncle Gardiner’s help, she kept a few of them which he was confident would be good for the foreseeable future, and she sold the rest, transferring the money to the funds.
When all was transferred and settled, Elizabeth had seventy thousand pounds in the funds, ten thousand in specific investments, and three Mayfair properties each of which brought in a profit of between five and six hundred per annum after deducting the cost of upkeep and permanent staff.
