“Our own investigations show that you have the capacity to pay the interest on such a loan, but could not repay the principal.We’ve reviewed the undertakings by the Directors of Inland Navigation and the Royal Canal Company, and accept that the £184,500 will be repaid once the canal is finished.”
She paused, watching as Darcy recognised that his situation had been thoroughly investigated even before he had entered the bank. For the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope—they wouldn’t have entertained his case simply to reject him. But why put him through this ordeal?
“Mr. Darcy,” said Lady Jersey, “you may be wondering why we have requested this meeting when we already knew of your difficulties. This bank lends not only on the facts of the case, but on the character of the borrower. We are agreed that you are a man of integrity and honour. For now, please leave us while Mr. Smith and I discuss your request. Elizabeth, please show Mr. Darcy to the anteroom and then return.”
Her name wasElizabeth. Who was she, to be shown such respect by Lady Jersey and Harry Smith? But now was not the time to wonder—Pemberley was at stake. Darcy knew that Child’s had once lent the Duke of Bridgewater £25,000 for his canal, but that was over forty years ago, before Lady Jersey’s time. Still, tradition mattered in the City, and he could but hope that the success of the Bridgewater Canal would cast his needs in similarly good light.
* * *
Chapter 8
Pemberley, February 1813
“William, you have returned! It’s so wonderful to have you back at Pemberley.” Georgiana flew down the stairs into Darcy’s arms. Taking her hand, he climbed the steps where Winthrop and Mrs. Reynolds were waiting to greet him.
“Welcome back, sir,” said Winthrop, a smile gracing his lips. “I trust your journey was not too arduous.”
“As with all trips to and from London,” replied Darcy, “often monotonous, but with spring approaching, the fields are greening and, for once, the roads were dry.”
Darcy entered the house, where the senior staff had assembled to greet him. It was so good to be back home, yet soon he would be leaving again. This would be hard on Georgiana, who had seen so little of him since they had left London—first, his search for the stock certificates; then, the rushed return to London to seek a loan for the call on the Royal Canal shares.
“Mrs. Reynolds, I see the house has been put back into some order. At least the dining room appears ready to serve its proper purpose. My apologies that I left Pemberley in such disarray, and that I was forced to intrude in your domain, particularly the housekeeper’s closet.”
Mrs. Reynolds gave a rare laugh. “It is of no consequence, Mr. Darcy. The closets and storage rooms needed a good cleaning—as you say, sir, it is spring, and such is the time for good housekeeping. The dining room is restored, and the ballroom is as it should be: sparkling chandeliers, polishedfloors, fresh drapes, and clean windows. I fear we had neglected it, but all is now made good.”
“Mrs. Younge, a pleasure to see you again,” said Darcy, as he and Georgiana entered the parlour and her companion rose to greet him. “My apologies, but I wish to have a private conversation with Georgiana. Could you please leave us for a time?”
The lady bobbed a curtsey, took up her embroidery, and exited the room. While she was everything polite, Darcy noticed a certain testiness in her demeanour, but quickly dismissed it—likely she had just settled to her work and found the interruption unwelcome.
He and Georgiana sat by the large bay window, which overlooked the lawns and shrubbery. It was a pleasant room, the décor calming; the tall windows linking the interior to the gardens and nature beyond.
“Georgiana, I haven’t had a chance to explain my turning the house upside down, nor my rushed trip to London. What I say mustn’t leave this room, though Baxter is aware of the situation.”
She squeezed his hand. “Oh, William, I knew something was wrong—that you were terribly troubled. Has it been resolved?”
“In part, but let me explain.” Darcy, as gently as he could, told her about their father’s investment in the Royal Canal—a canal from Dublin to the River Shannon. The investment itself was sound, and the estate could easily afford it. If things had stayed as they were, there would have been no issue. But over the past twenty years, the value of the shares had grown from £3,000 to £248,000.”
“What a fortune!” exclaimed Georgiana. “Surely dear Papa made a brilliant investment.”
“So it seems,” Darcy agreed. “But the shares weren’t fully paid—the company only received ten percent of their value from Father. There’s still £184,500 owing. This isn’t unusual, and if the canal had been successful, it would have been a shrewd move. He would have received dividends based on the full value, having paid only a fraction.”
He paused while Mrs. Reynolds brought in a tray with tea, small beer, and pastries, then quietly exited the room.
“Unfortunately, the company is in serious financial trouble,” he said, taking a sip of ale. “They’ve demanded the outstanding payment, £184,500, as is their right.”
Tears welled in Georgiana’s eyes. “William, how will we ever find such a sum? Please, take my £30,000 dowry—I couldn’t bear it if we lost Pemberley.”
Her generosity struck him. She was willing to sacrifice her dowry, her chances in society, simply to keep Pemberley safe for future generations—when she herself would eventually marry into another family.
“You’re far too kind, Georgiana. But I’ve secured a loan for the amount. It will be repaid once the canal reaches Mullingar in County Westmeath. There are, however, some conditions I had to accept.”
She frowned in concern. “What are they? I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“Nothing too harsh. First, I must travel to Ireland myself—it is in my interest and the bank’s, as the company’s directors have been careless and profligate with investors’ money. As majority shareholder, I have the authority to oversee the company’s affairs directly.
“The second condition affects you. I’ll have to be away from Pemberley for at least three months, possibly longer, to supervise the canal’s construction to Mullingar. The estate is pledged against the loan, and the bank insists on sendinga representative to oversee Pemberley’s accounts during my absence. It’s a precaution—they’re conservative, and I can’t fault them. The loan is considerable, and they want to protect their investment.”
“I suppose I’ll have to stay at Pemberley,” Georgiana said resignedly. “The Matlocks are in Scotland, and I can’t stay at Darcy House in Town, not being out in society. But, William, surely it would be improper for an accountant to stay here with me, a young woman, even with Mrs. Younge as my companion?”
