“Of course you did. You knoweveryonewell,” retorted Mary, with no small amount of sarcasm. “The man who knows everyone, and never dies.”
“Voltaire said something similar to that about me once,” reminisced thecomtewith a wistful smile. “I recall when Mozart was only a child prodigy. Even when he lost hope, in his darkest hours, he never gave up. You should emulate him.”
“Does it look like I have given up?” bit out Mary. “I have never given up, even when every person I love, everyone with the exception of dear William, of course, has told me that I am hopeless, and that I ought to stop trying.”
“They are all idiots then. With the exception of your dear William, of course.” insisted thecomte. “I like your young man. There is no malice in him. He wishes only to improve himself, and do his best by you and your home and family.”
“He is the best of men,” Mary said, wiping her eyes. “And I only wish the same, to improve myself, to be a good mistress to my home when it comes time, and to improve life for everyone at Longbourn. But I cannot lie, I wish that I could have this one vanity for myself. The knowledge that I am truly proficient at something. My father says I should give up and become proficient at something I am actually good at, but I love the pianoforte! There is nothing that I wish more than to be a truly wonderful player, to give dear William a reason to be proud ofme. Is that wicked? For me to wish to distinguish myself in that way? Am I a vain woman?”
“Mademoiselle, you are the farthest thing from a vain woman that I have ever met,” thecomteassured her. “Surely with diligence you will find the proficiency you seek.”
“It is hopeless!” Mary wailed. “Georgiana is the best player I have ever known, and Miss Bingley is nearly as proficient, and they have spentmonthshelping me, to no avail. I will never be proficient!”
“Allow me to play it for you, you sit here next to me and close your eyes,” said thecomte. “Hear the music as Mozart did. No other distractions. Just the music.”
Mary moved aside on the bench to make room for thecomte, as he joined her, and obediently closed her eyes. As the music began, she was filled with a fresh wave of despair, as she always was when thecomtedemonstrated. This man played as if he had invented the pianoforte himself. How could she ever play like this? By the end of the piece, Mary Bennet was weeping with emotion, as she often did when thecomteplayed for their party.
“I shall never play like that,” Mary said despondently. “I doubt it sounded that well even when Mozart himself played it.”
“Of course you shall,” insisted thecomte. “And I assure you that when Mozart played, it brought tears even to my eyes, and I forgot how to weep many centuries ago. Now, show me how you read the music. Tell me what you see on the sheet, and explain to me in what manner you determine how it should be played.”
Outside the door, William Bennet arrived as if to enter the music room, but upon finding Mary there, weeping and accepting comfort from thecomte, he knew not how to interrupt, so instead, he left, and went instead to the library; he said nothing to anyone, but he was troubled.
Richard had his hands full.Immediately upon the determination that the ladies of the house knew of whatever plot was being hatched, Colonel Allen had apparently disregarded Huggins’ dismissive attitude, and had set officers in plain attire to follow every lady of the house. It was impossible for Richard to keep tabs on all of them at once, and he was beginning to tire, considering that he was following men about at all hours of the day and night. The ladies seemed to be in no danger. Allen was only watching the ladies because he was certain that they knew something that they did not. He sent word to his aunt and Georgiana through Torrens thatallof the ladies were now being watched, which did not matter much, because they knew nothing, and met with no one that should raise suspicion, but at least armed with the information, Lady Catherine could be more careful about ensuring that the ladies only left the house together in groups of twos and threes, and only with two or three footmen or grooms attending them. It was important for them not to change their routines overly much. Richard avoided seeking out his young cousin, in case he were to be observed meeting with her. A new rule was also made that servants must leave the house to do errands in pairs. Marigold Tupper remained isolated in her room, but Georgiana kept the girl busy with sewing for the local poorbox, and with novels.
CHAPTER 39
One afternoon while they were out shopping, Elizabeth and Georgiana, who were accompanied by Mrs Annesley and William Bennet, came upon a young boy, Tom Tyler, who, according to the local ladies, was the eldest son of a squatter family that lived in the cottages near the castle that Elizabeth and Lydia were fond of visiting. The boy was always barefoot in the streets of the little seaside town, not begging for coins, but begging for small work of any kind. Elizabeth and Georgiana always kept an eye out for the lad, and whenever they saw him, paid him to carry a message to someone else from Bourne House, even if they had no message that needed carrying. Elizabeth often paid the boy before she sent him off to carry the notes, and when he arrived, the only thing the note would contain was a message asking Lady Catherine or whomever was at home to pay the boy again once he arrived. In this way, the boy would earn enough to purchase a hot pot to feed his family.
Hot pots were purchased on the street. The working class and the poor would descend upon the butcher each day, but the choicest cuts of meat were always saved for the upper and middle classes. If meat could not be obtained, then it was to bea hot pot for the family meal. The women of the lowest working class could not afford to remain at home once their oldest was old enough to watch the youngest. Some children as young as five or six stayed in their cottages each day watching infants while their parents worked. It was difficult for a mother to come home and cook a meal with little available for ingredients after her long day, so often a working family brought their pot into the village and had it filled by a street vendor. Families who could afford it, took their pot to town, and purchased a Lancashire hot pot made of mutton, potatoes, leeks, and assorted root vegetables. The poorest families, who could not afford it, took home a pot made of oysters, whatever offal had been available from the butchers that day, and a very small amount of potatoes or other vegetables. Those who could not afford even the meanest hot pot, were obliged to go down to the water, and devour whatever oysters could be pried off the underside of the docks when the tide was low.
On this day, young Tom Tyler had already earned enough for his family’s hot pot, and was carefully carrying it home through the street as the young ladies exited the lending library, accompanied by William Bennet, who was also known to the boy. “Afternoon, Miss Bennet, Miss Darcy, sir,” the boy nodded as he passed them.
“Good afternoon, Tom. Please come to Bourne House early tomorrow morning, I will have a letter that I shall wish to send to the post office,” Elizabeth said in answer to the boy. Georgiana had encouraged Torrens to use the boy for household errands instead of sending out the servants whenever possible since the truth of the trouble with Marigold had been discovered.
“Thankee miss, I be there by breakfast,” the boy promised. Suddenly, Lord Lennox came around a corner, and bowled the boy over in the street. Pandemonium ensued as the hot potturned over, and both the boy and the man were on the ground, covered in the greasy contents of the pot.
“You little bastard!” Lord Lennox cuffed the boy over the ear as he dragged him to his feet. “Have you any notion how expensive this waistcoat was! This is French silk of the likes that cannot be found any more!”
“I’m sorry, yer lordship, you did not see me as you came about!” cried poor Tom.
“Sorry! How dare you blame this on me, you stupid little lobcock! I should call the constable, how would you like to rot in prison until you have compensated me for my garments!” shouted Lord Lennox, shaking the boy viciously.
“Lord Lennox, your language! There are ladies present!” William Bennet objected strenuously, but he was too slow to give any real remonstrance, for Georgiana Darcy was upon the nobleman with her parasol, beating him about the head and demanding that the man release the boy immediately.
Georgiana Darcy had been raised a true gentlewoman, and was nothing but gentle and generous with the poor. Her example had been set by her brother and father, and by the stories told to her by the housekeeper, tenants, and locals of aid that her mother had provided to others in her lifetime. Whenever possible, Georgiana gave those who needed it the most the opportunity to earn what they needed, allowing them to retain their dignity rather than accept charity. Having heard stories from the locals regarding the circumstances in which the Tylers lived, she was outraged by Lord Lennox’s behaviour.
“Lord Lennox, how dare you behave thus, towards a young boy who did nothing wrong! We were standing here conversing with Tom the entire time, and it wasyouwho knockedhimover! Idemand!” she pounded him with her parasol with each emphasis. “That youapologise!At once!”
Elizabeth and William pulled their young friend away before Lord Lennox lost his temper entirely. “Andyou will compensate Tom for the loss of his family’s dinner, too!” the young girl shrieked.
“I shall do no such thing. You should take care, Miss Darcy, who you assault in the street. Your brother may be as rich as Croesus, but that will not save you when you have attacked a peer,” Lord Lennox said disdainfully. “With one wave of my hand I can have you all locked up by the magistrate.”
“I highly doubt you will find success locking up the niece of the foreign secretary. Not nearly as much as I might find simply by arranging for the bailiffs from town to find you and your friend,” Elizabeth said evenly, not flinching an inch as the young earl turned his baleful gaze upon her. “That is why you are hiding here, is it not? To escape your debts?”
“How dare you,” the earl drew up in indignation.
“Lord Lennox, perhaps you should only return to Bourne House by invitation of Lady Catherine,” Mrs Annesley interrupted. “It is not our place to bar you from the home of our host, but after the events of this afternoon, I cannot imagine that she would welcome your company amongst the young ladies in her care again. Perhaps for everyone involved, we should end this indecorous display at once.”
