“She has assigned her godson, Mr. Darcy, to be her deputy as well as my trustee.” Elizabeth felt a strange twist in her stomach at the admission. Fortunately, the maid set down the lemon cakes, providing a necessary distraction.
“And how are you faring, dear Jane?” Mrs. Gardiner asked when they had all taken a bite of the cakes.
“I am delighted to share my sister’s good fortune,” Jane admitted. “She has bought us dresses, taken us to Gerrards for ices, and we spend time with Miss Allegra as well as take calls from Lady Sophia’s friends.”
“Who are mostly fortune-hunting mothers,” Mary said with an uncharacteristic spark. “Even Lady Lucas from Hertfordshire. She came to Grosvenor Street yesterday and spent the entire visit pushing John at Elizabeth.”
“John Lucas?” Mrs. Gardiner looked between them. “Charlotte’s brother?”
“The same,” Mary said. “He was quite embarrassed on his mother’s behalf, and has not a mercenary bone in his body. He was so mortified with his mother parading him through Lizzy’s drawing room and proclaiming him the heir of Lucas Lodge, as if Sir William had already gone to the worms. It was quite humiliating for him.”
Elizabeth eyed Mary, noting the suspicious flush on her cheeks.
“He escaped the drawing room,” Elizabeth added, “and found Mary and Georgiana at the piano. And he turned pages for the rest of Lady Lucas’s visit.”
Alice looked up from her watercolors. “Did he turn the pages at the right time?”
“Perfectly,” Mary said, and that one word held a weight that was apparent to every lady in the room.
“Well, I am pleased that London has not gotten its claws into you the way its stratified society might affect some debutantes.” Mrs. Gardiner said with some relief. “You girls are clearly taking the best parts of being in town along with your good fortune.”
“Has my mother written to you of her plans?” Elizabeth ventured, wondering whether her mother planned to stay with the Gardiners, as she used to whenever she visited London.
“No, she has not.” Aunt Gardiner’s brows creased with concern. “Have you news from Longbourn?”
“Only from Lady Lucas,” Elizabeth explained. “My father has not written, and I believe Mamma was too angry to write. But Lady Lucas says Mamma has been buying lottery tickets, which Papa entirely disapproves of but cannot prevent. She told everyone in Meryton that she intends to come to London with or without his permission.”
“Oh, my.” Mrs. Gardiner paused with the cake server in her hand, her expression turning grave. “That sounds like your mother when she has a bee in her bonnet. Did she give a reason?”
“Yes, she insists her eldest daughters require a mother’s guidance to navigate the Season, and she will come as soon as she has won enough money.”
Mrs. Gardiner set the silver server down. “An uninvited descent upon Mayfair. Oh, Lizzy, she does not understandtheton. If she arrives with the younger girls in tow and begins proclaiming your fortune in every drawing room, the consequences for Jane’s peace and your own position will be… unfortunate.”
Jane kept her eyes fixed resolutely on young Thomas’s curls, but her shoulders tightened noticeably.
“We must fetch your uncle,” Mrs. Gardiner said, ringing for the maid. “He received a note from your trustee, the man Darcy, that you are seeking to gift Consols to your mother and sisters, enough to either fund their living or spend on extravagant trips.”
Jane and Mary both gaped at Elizabeth, cheeks flushing.
“Lizzy, you do not need—” Jane began. “I cannot?—”
Mary shook her head. “The fortune is yours. It is enough that you bought dresses for us and invited us to your house.”
“Did you two really believe I would take an income of fifteen thousand a year and not ensure your safety? It won’t be much, as only seven thousand of it is in safe Consols. But?—”
She was interrupted by her uncle, who arrived with ink on his fingers and his shirt sleeves rolled up. He settled into his chair beside the fire.
“Dear Lizzy, your man, Darcy, has notified my solicitor, who is arranging the transfers,” he said. “But Darcy also mentioned the risk to your estate. The Consol income offers the only security you have.”
“He expressed his concerns, yes,” Elizabeth said, proud of her steady voice. “But as a trustee, he has to do what I order him to do. My sisters and mother get a thousand per annum each, and since the Bank of England requires a male agent, I should like you to serve in that capacity, Uncle.”
“Five thousand a year passing through my hands on behalf of your mother and sisters?” His face blanched as he cast a glance at his wife.
“Quarterly distributions. Structured so the principal cannot be touched. The income arrives in manageable portions through a channel that cannot be accelerated by persuasion, tears, or appeals to nerves.”
“You are describing the management of my sister.”
“Exactly. I will not leave my mother or sisters at the mercy of Mr. Collins’s charity. But neither will I give Mamma unrestricted access to a sum she would exhaust before Midsummer.”
