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“I am afraid, given the size of the estate, a steward would be out of the question,” interpolated Mr Collins; “far too expensive.”

“Indeed,” agreed Mr Gardiner, “and that is where your generosity, in allowing my sister to live here during the period of mourning, will receive its due reward, Mr Collins. I understand that you, Lizzy, assisted your father with the ledgers in the past?”

It would have been truer to say that Lizzy had acted as both bailiff and clerk to her father who, preferring to read the latest works of erudition in his study, had steadily relinquished the details of estate management to his favourite daughter from the time she was thirteen. But apprised of the Gardiners’ general plans, Elizabeth readily acceded to her uncle’s statement, relying on his considerable skills of negotiation.

“Then I think, Mr Collins, that if Lizzy continues to do the ledgers, you will be able to appoint a bailiff only and thus save yourself considerable expense,” continued Mr Gardiner.

“There is however the question of rent…” raised Mr Collins.

“Ah, yes,” agreed Mr Gardiner, “but given Lizzy will be helping to manage the estate for you, I think a barter arrangement would be best and will engender the village most kindly towards you as the new master.”

Mr Collins considered this for a moment. It was not consistent with Lady Catherine’s advice, but she did have a more knowledgeable steward rather a bailiff, and she was also well versed in estate management herself…

“And Lizzy will, of course, be acquainting the bailiff with all the minutiae of the estate,” continued Mr Gardiner, seeing the clergyman’s hesitancy; “—the foibles of particular tenants and how to deal with them; which paddocks flood and how often… The saving in livestock from that alone would be considerable. And once you occupy the manor yourself, you will arrive to a fully trained bailiff, ready to command.”

Mr Collins nodded. His complete lack of knowledge of estate management had bothered him. He had not expected his inheritance of the Longbourn estate to occur so soon and had fully intended to study estate management through his conversations with his patroness at Rosings in the years to come. Lady Catherine was a veritable font of knowledge and extremely generous in dispensing it into his willing ears. The proposed arrangement would allow him a single year to study under her guidance while he provided her with spiritual support and ministered to her human flock.

“Very well,” said Mr Collins. “No doubt there will be many details to negotiate…”

“Indeed, and I am willing to go over as many of them as you wish in person while I am here; and in correspondence once we return to our respective domiciles. But I believe your betrothed is a good friend of Lizzy’s and females are very good at working out minor details,” suggested Mr Gardiner, shooting a secret smile at Lizzy.

Having thus dealt masterfully with Mr Collins’ quibbles and allowed him to step gracefully out of a business where he was likely all at sea, Mr Gardiner plied the clergyman with tea and cakes and then led him to Mr Bennet’s bier where he could finally employ himself in his true vocation.

In the afternoon Mr Gardiner went off to Meryton to visit his brother-in-law to see what could be managed for his sister’s family in that direction.

Upon arriving at the Darcy townhouse in Grosvenor Square, Darcy and Bingley repaired to the study to refresh themselves with a glass of brandy while they waited for the carriage and their valets to arrive. When Darcy sat down to deal with the pile of invitations and correspondence that his housekeeper had deemed not worthy of forwarding to Netherfield, Bingley stretched himself out in a wing chair for a brief nap. Not fifteen minutes later, Mrs Flowers arrived with a tray of biscuits and sandwiches upon which Darcy nibbled while he dealt with his letters and his friend slept.

Halfway through the pile, Darcy’s hand alighted on a missive addressed to his sister, Georgiana. Turning his chair towards the window and away from Bingley, Darcy carefully unsealed it and extracted a second letter contained within it, addressed to himself.

My Dearest Fitzwilliam,

I hope this letter finds you well and returned from Netherfield. I will not be returning to London for a while. Although Cynthia came through the crisis after the birth of her third child, she is far from well; so, I will be remaining in Somerset to nurse my daughter until she is better. I cannot see myself returning to London within the next six months.

Perhaps it is time you sought other amusements. You know we have talked of this before. As much as I will miss you, it is time you set up your own nursery, dearest one. Pemberley needs an heir.

Do try to socialise more, dear. I know Almack’s is a dreadful bore, but there are some genuinely nice girls there, not just the ones that try to get you alone in a room and then demand marriage.

You know there is not a day I do not think of you, sweet boy, and I am sure the memories will keep me happy in my old age.

I will continue to write to keep you updated on Cynthia’s progress.

But for now, farewell,

Love Almeria

Hiding the letter in a secret drawer of his desk where he kept all their correspondence, Darcy sighed and walked to the window. His affair with the Dowager Duchess of Wingham had started five years ago when she had extracted him from yet another imbroglio designed to entrap him. She had spirited him out a side-door of the Duke of Clifton’s mansion into her carriage. Somehow, he had ended up in bed with her. Darcy was a little hazy on the details; after all, the duke had been plying him with brandy during the ball, no doubt to aid his little scheme. He knew he had been a fool to fall into the duke’s trap in the first place. It had been the first serious incident of its type and Darcy had been on his guard ever since.

Of course, it had been a little embarrassing to wake up in the bed of a lady who had been one of his mother’s closest friends; but she had been completely charming about it, admitted she had also drunk a little too much, and set him at his ease. It had all progressed from there: a little companionship for her, no more visiting tawdry brothels with his cousin Richard for him. It had all been so… convenient.

Almeria’s referral to that incident at Clifton Mansion seemed so apposite now that he had just fled another potential entrapment. Darcy knew he was no charmer like Bingley, he just wished he could find a marriageable woman who would appreciate him for himself. They all seemed to treat him as if he had a pound sign tattooed on his forehead.

Was there a woman out there who would not titter if he said a ten-letter word or use his latest theorem as a bookmark? He had never really forgiven Georgiana’s companion, Mrs Annesley, for the latter incident, though she had apologised profusely. He had searched for that piece of paper for days! Anyway, it had been published in The Proceedings of the Royal Society a month later, so no harm done. The problem was that Darcy had begun to think that Elizabeth Bennet was just such a woman and then she had gone and ruined it all!

Well, he was glad it was over before it started! Now he would not have to think of any excuses to explain her lack of dowry to his uncle. Because the earl did have the right to veto any match until he was thirty, which was not that far away now, anyway… But still! Darcy fell to brooding, remembering how annoyed he had been when they had read his father’s will. As if he could not be trusted! His Aunt Evelina had told him not to take it to heart. Darcy’s father had sickened and died quickly. His aunt related how the codicil had been inserted hours before his father’s death as he worried about the future of his orphaned children. Darcy had not even been able to make it to Derbyshire from Cambridge in time to see his father before he passed away.

When he heard Finn’s voice in the vestibule, Darcy knew that the carriage carrying their valets and luggage from Hertfordshire had arrived. Consulting his watch, he realised he had been staring out the window for half an hour. Darcy concealed Georgie’s opened letter under the pile of unopened correspondence so he could reseal it later. Giving his valet some time to organise the trunks, he woke Bingley, and after his friend had selected some salmon and cucumber sandwiches, they both headed upstairs to change their raiment before departing to The City.

Chapter 9: Dust to dust