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Peter Napier did not say anything to the others, but he was sure this was going to be his last trip. He would settle with Elizabeth at Napier Hall and enjoy his remaining time.

After breakfast their two witnesses left and it was just the two of them.

“Do you feel different?”

Elizabeth smiled at his question.

“It varies from moment to moment. One minute I am sitting here thinking how nothing has changed, and yet the very next minute I am squealing with delight that I am Lady Napier.”

“Squealing?”

“Internally at least. How about you?”

“It is the oddest sensation. My overwhelming feeling is one of purpose. I have a purpose, after too many years of just idling my days away. And I can finally relax, we are legally married. My will is filed, the estate is going to pass into your hands.”

He inelegantly shrugged his shoulders.

“I can go to my long rest knowing all is well.”

“You are that confident in my abilities?”

“In a word, yes. But Lawrence will guide you for at least 20 years. He is 44 years old and is training his oldest boy to follow in his footsteps. You lived on an estate all your life, and have told me of some of your frustrations at not having the authority to fix the problems that you saw. You will no longer have to suffer that frustration. In fact, this is a good moment to explain my finances.”

Elizabeth knew that it was rare for a woman to be taught such matters. From what little she had seen and read, the Master educated the heir on dealing with the estate, with the woman who was wife and mother not being included. What little she knew of the finances of Longbourn were through sitting and listening quietly. She had been informed of nothing.

They walked through to the study. It was a slow pace, Elizabeth ready to assist if needed, but not stripping her new husband of his dignity.

“I was going to bring a second desk in here, but there is not much point. I will have a desk for you in my study at the Hall.”

Peter Napier had been clear that he was on borrowed time, and she understood that he would not be returning to the townhouse.

“One of the important things to understand is that I have kept my finances under wraps for at least 30 years. Margaret died in 1779, and Pauline and the baby followed in 1781. The rest of that decade is nothing but a painful blur. I do not even remember much of the news of the death of my son in law in the last months of the war with the Americans. I just numbed my pain with brandy. It is this abuse of my body that is catching up with me. Frankly, I think Dr. Dumfries is amazed that I have lasted this long. But what I did not do was waste money. Lawrence’s father managed the estate and my other investments until I came out of my embrace of the brandy bottle.

“He was brilliant, and established my fortune outside the estate’s land holdings.”

“You have more than just the estate?”

Peter Napier smiled.

“Yes, much more. Interfering busybodies are not just ready to pounce on any perceived scandal, such as you are well aware. Here in town, one of the principal occupations is guessing and then confirming how much each person is worth.”

“Really, that seems very?”

Elizabeth could not think of the right word. She felt that she was using intrusive too often.

“It is a key part of the so-called marriage mart.”

“You will have to explain Peter. I do not understand.”

“It is the fundamental basis of considering whether a marriage is suitable. A lady is judged by the size of her dowry. It is one of the key ways that chasm between the gentry and those in trade is breached. There are many impoverished peers and gentlemen, who will overlook the antecedents of the young lady if she brings sufficient funds to the marriage. You have seen a minor version of this already. The Bingley daughter married off to a minor gentleman. He gained the dowry and she gained respectability for the family. There is another aspect of your tale. Remember at the start of the Assembly everyone was talking about this Bingley character and his £5,000 a year? Where did that number come from?”

Elizabeth had no idea.

“And then barely an hour after arriving, Darcy was being touted as having £10,000 and owning what? Half of Derbyshire? Given your description of him it is extremely unlikely that he volunteered this information himself.”

Again Elizabeth had no idea where the amount or the acreage had come from. Peter smiled.

“It could be something as idiotic as a matron going ‘Darcy is twice the man’. Suddenly Bingley’s £5,000 becomes Darcy’s £10,000.”