“It is difficult to tell what sort of season we shall have this year,” Mr. Darcy said. He contemplated the sky. “I do not like inconsistent weather.
She laughed a little. “I do not think even you can command the skies, Mr. Darcy.”
He laughed in response. “It is every farmer’s dream, Miss Elizabeth.”
“You consider yourself a farmer, Mr. Darcy?” This surprised her.
“Of course. On a rather large scale, but my income certainly derives from the land.”
“My uncle says that many estates fail because they depend solely upon the land.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “Your uncle is correct, which is why Pemberley does not rely upon one type of income. Our crops are largely barley and grain, but we also raise livestock and have investments in a variety of other endeavours.”
Elizabeth was very interested in this. Papa rarely spoke of estate matters despite her insistence that knowing how one’s income was generated was an important part of a good education. “What other sorts of investments, Mr. Darcy?”
He lifted his shoulders. “Whatever I believe will add another source of income and help protect the estate. We have a mine on the property, for one.”
“I understand that mines are very profitable.”
He frowned. “There is profit, of course, but in my case, it is more a defraying of the estate’s expenses. I never have to pay for wood or coal as both are in good supply, and as the house is rather large, it offers a significant savings.” He fiddled with his hat before setting it more firmly on his head. “I am not willing to sacrifice safety for coin, and thus I am not made rich by it.”
This was something she had heard of, for her father always allowed her to read the papers when he was done with them. Still, she wished to hear from the man himself. “What sort of safety do you mean, Mr. Darcy?”
“I will not allow children to work in the mine, which has made some of the positions difficult to fill, and I will not allow men to work all hours until they are so weary that they make a fatal error in judgement.” He sighed. “Mines are dangerous, Miss Elizabeth, and they must be operated with great care.”
Elizabeth gazed off into the garden. “And what else do you do with all your money, Mr. Darcy?”
He chuckled. “We are partners in the mill that produces cloth from our wool. We have coppice woods where we grow and harvest lumber . . .”
“Ah, but that is still dependent upon the weather.”
He nodded. “You are correct. Farther afield, we have invested in horse breeding, a factory that will eventually be able to can food for the military to carry on campaign, Count Von Rumford’s chimney designs, and several shipping concerns.”
“Count Von Rumford? Is he not an American?”
“Good ideas are not limited to England, Miss Elizabeth.”
She shook her head and squelched a smile. “I am well aware of that.”
“We do have a few charitable concerns as well, including a school for boys and another for girls in the Kympton parish. That is an investment of another sort, but I expect that it shall produce its own rewards.”
If only he had been so forthright earlier in their acquaintance! “You are a very busy man, Mr. Darcy.”
He nodded. “Hiring good men to assist me is essential to the sort of business I conduct. No one can be an expert in every field, though many have tried.”
“It is expensive to hire so many workers,” she replied.
“It is often more expensive not to,” Mr. Darcy answered.
Elizabeth thought to test him once more. “My uncle is of the same mind, Mr. Darcy.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, he has a keen mind for business. Mr. Gardiner is my mother’s brother and the owner of several warehouses in London.”
This did trip Mr. Darcy up a bit, but to his credit he recovered quickly. “I see. Might I have heard of them?”
“I doubt it sir, unless you shop near Cheapside.”