Page 9 of Till Death Us Do Part: Book 2
“We shall have to rectify that. I cannot have a maid who does not read and write well, and we have a lot of time. We shall make a proper lady’s maid of you. Mrs Reynolds will conveniently forget most of your other duties, since she no longer needs to prepare meals for the dining room. You will be with me most of the time. Where are your slate and books?”
“In my room.”
“Go retrieve them. We may as well use the evening for study. Let us work for a fortnight becoming accustomed to our routine, then I will lay out a course for you, and make sure you have a few hours for study each day. Mrs Reynolds need never know.”
Molly was surprised; but in the end, no matter how peculiar their situation, the lady was Mrs Darcy, and she was the mistress. If she said her maid was to use her work time to study, Molly was not one to argue. It certainly beat the scullery.
A half-hour later, both women were comfortably ensconced by the fire. One had a copy of a recent novel about two sistersthat she had been surprised to find in the library, and the other a children’s story. Elizabeth was content to have Molly read aloud for half an hour, then she repeated the process, to give the younger girl a taste of what she was working towards.
The day finally ended, and Elizabeth gratefully changed into her nightclothes and retreated to bed. The maid’s chambers had a small bed that was better than the one in the servants’ attics, so she allowed Molly to move in if she chose. While it was true that Mr Darcy had not allowed her a lady’s maid, nothing said Molly could not learn to be one in good time; and her husband, in an uncharacteristic bit of sloppiness, failed to prohibit a scullery who acted like a lady’s maid.
As she drifted off to sleep, Elizabeth reflected that, sooner or later, she would have to start acting like the mistress. She had little doubt that Mr Darcy would prefer to instal a spy in her suite in the form of a hand-picked lady’s maid, and on that point, she wanted to be prepared to put her foot down and insist on her own choice. It might be her only chance to ensure she had someone trustworthy nearby at all times.
4.Arrangements
Elizabeth woke up feeling surprisingly well the next morning. She dressed herself in her black day dress, which she could do easily enough. Molly brought her meal, so they broke their fast together. Molly then helped put her hair into an easy pattern, which she covered with the black mobcap. She thought that, if she were to wear a mobcap for the rest of her life, she might even consider cutting her hair, but that decision could certainly wait.
In some ways she hated the garment, and in others she loved it. It would certainly make life easier, as it would never again be necessary to make her hair overly fancy. She imagined that, if she had a husband she liked, who was at all social, then things would be different. However, she had Mr Darcy, and what more need be said? She imagined she would not become one of the ‘society women’ who spent all their time going from one engagement to another, the talk of the ton, busy morning, noon, and night. No, she expected her future to be relatively quiet.
Mrs Darcy had no idea if her husband attended the Season in town, or if he had, whether he would continue. She had no idea if he would want to proudly show off his wife as if he had chosen her, or if he would want to hide her away in a dark dungeon and feed her snakes. For all she knew, they might only be in each other’s company a few hours most days, and sometimes not at all. She had seen more than one marriage that went along in that fashion, including her own parents’. She had hoped for more but must settle for less. Her mother certainly had.
When her thoughts became maudlin, or at least,toomaudlin, she would break off and think of the library. She would eventually be allowed to read the books on the black shelf, so it was not as if she were following her original plan of working at the mills. She would remind herself that she was the wife of a rich man, who still did not actually have to do much of anything.She would obviously have to tolerate him in her bed from time to time, as well as birth and raise some children—but that would be her fate no matter what, so she was no worse off. At the very least, she would not have to tolerate Mr Collins’s attentions. She looked forward to the children and wondered if she would do a better job than her parents had.
Elizabeth’s mood became more cheerful, or at least less maudlin, by midday, and she was making a good effort to explore the library. She was happy to see several texts on geography, geology, botany, and other learned subjects she might like to study, as well as a few books that were ancient, yet not ancient enough for the black shelves. She also found, much to her delight, quite a few children’s books, suitable for Molly’s education. Reading a story about foxes and geese might seem odd to a sixteen-year-old girl, but she had to learn sometime.
She was examining a set of books related to Plato and Aristotle when the door opened, and a footman said, “Mr Knight is here to see you, Mrs Darcy.”
Elizabeth had no idea who that was, so the young man helpfully added, “Mr Darcy’s steward, ma’am.”
The young man, perhaps a year younger than Elizabeth, seemed uncomfortable having to tell that to the mistress, but it could not be helped.
“Might I have your name, young man?”
“Noah, madam. Noah Hervey.”
Elizabeth smiled to try to disarm him. “Very good to meet you, Noah. I would like to learn all your names, so might you tell your compatriots to introduce themselves when we next meet. It would be pointless for you to all do so at once, as I would have no hope of remembering them all.”
Noah had never had such an odd conversation, but if the mistress wanted introductions, who was he to argue? He would of course tell the butler, as was proper, and let him instruct the staff as he saw fit.
“Mr Knight is in the Yellow Parlour, if you remember it, madam.”
“I will ask you to escort me so I do not get lost, but I think it will do admirably. Thank you, Noah.”
Noah was recently hired, so he did not know Mr Darcy, but he had rarely seen any of his superiors thank a footman for simply doing his job, so he was a bit confused. “Pleasure, ma’am.”
The young footman led the way, and five minutes later Elizabeth was facing Mr Knight. The man stood and bowed. “Mrs Darcy.”
“Mr Knight.”
The man was about her father’s age, with greying hair cut in an old-fashioned style, grey sideburns, and an impressive paunch. He still looked fit enough to shear sheep, but he was obviously slowing down, and missing few, if any, meals.
The man also sported a look of thinly disguised disdain or contempt. He obviously knew more about her situation than the housekeeper or butler, which was not particularly surprising. The steward was the most trusted position on an estate. He might be the highest-ranked employee Mr Darcy had, so it was not surprising that, if her husband had one real confidant in the area, it would be he.
The man looked Elizabeth over in a disconcerting manner. He was not leering, as some men did. It was more as if he considered her a problem to be solved, and he was trying to work out just how unpleasant the solution was to be.
Elizabeth tried waiting patiently, but it turned out that her patience was of limited supply, so she asked, as decorously as she could, “How may I help you, Mr Knight?”
The man shook his head, as if dislodging himself from an unpleasant train of thought. “I am instructed to give you your pin money, madam.”
