The next two lots sold even faster, both going for three shillings eleven pence per bushel. The third lot went for a full 2,500 bushels at once, Mr. Hunter didn’t bother holding those remaining 500 bushels over for tomorrow. As for the batch that hadn’t arrived yet, that could wait until it did.
Once the auction ended, it was time to settle the paperwork.
The exchange rarely dealt in cash, so Mary received three bills of exchange instead. The amounts on the bills matched the exchange’s auction records to the penny, exact down to the last farthing.
These three lots sold for 383 pounds six shillings eight pence, 391 pounds thirteen shillings four pence, and 489 pounds eleven shillings eight pence respectively.
In total, the 6,500 bushels of potatoes sold for 1,264 pounds eleven shillings eight pence. As for the actual profit, the costs still had to be deducted.
There was the exchange’s 1% seller’s fee, Mr. Hunter’s 2% commission, and a 1% fee for cashing the bills. On top of that, there was the 3-pound inspection fee for the earlier sampling, and a soaring transport cost of 72 pounds. If she’d only transported as far as Meryton, 15 pounds would have covered it.
After all the additions and subtractions, Mary’s net income from this single trip came directly to 1,139 pounds, far more than the 700 pounds she would have gotten from selling to the army!
“Thank you so much, Mr. Hunter.” The remaining 1,500 bushels of potatoes would only be brought over tomorrow.
“It’s what I’m here for.” Having earned over 25 pounds in a single afternoon, Mr. Hunter felt he could stand to be even busier than this. Unfortunately, it was getting late, and the exchange was closing for the day.
“See you tomorrow, then.” Mary gathered her people and rented an extra carriage from the coaching inn for the return trip.
By the time they got back to Longbourn, it was already dark. The group’s return caused no stir in the small village, nor did it draw much attention in Meryton either.
The next morning, having rested well, everyone set off for London again with the remaining potatoes. This time there was no need for thirty heavy cargo carts, ordinary loading carts would do just fine.
A smaller target drew less attention, even if someone in Meryton happened to notice, they’d give it no more than a passing glance, without thinking twice.
By the time Lieutenant Richard, in charge of the garrison’s supply matters, learned what had happened the day before, he rushed over to Longbourn, but it was already too late! Only a single maid and a single farmhand were left at the Richman house, everyone else had already gone off to London with the goods!
A deal that could have turned a profit of over 400 pounds, gone, just like that?!
No, that was more than two years of his own income, he couldn’t just watch that money slip away.
Richard mounted his horse, but instead of heading back to Meryton, he went to the other side of the village. According to the soldier, this whole thing had been done at the request of Lieutenant Wickham’s wife.
Hmph, everyone in the garrison already knew the truth behind that marriage, only the newer recruits didn’t.
George Wickham was about to be transferred to Newcastle in the north anyway, he’d already lost any real influence here in Meryton! If even his own words carried no weight anymore, then what use was anything his wife said?
Since the man was leaving sooner or later regardless, with no chance of ever being reassigned back, then let the Wickham family pay for the loss he’d caused.
As for Miss Richman, no, Mrs. Ethys now, once she got back, Richard intended to have a proper word with her about how dealing with the army was still the safest, most reliable choice. Sure, shipping goods to London might earn more, but the transport costs were higher too, and there was risk along the way!
So really, dealing with the army was still for the best.
Entirely unaware that someone had come looking for her at home, Mary quickly sold off the 1,500 bushels of potatoes she’d brought to London. This batch wasn’t quite enough to make up a full lot, so it didn’t go to auction. Since these were also the leftover, lower-quality potatoes, the price was a bit lower too, only three shillings five pence.
After deducting the various costs from the sale total of 256 pounds five shillings, Mary’s income for the day came to 225 pounds.
This year’s potato earnings had far exceeded expectations, reaching a total of 1,364 pounds! At this rate, breaking 2,000 pounds in annual income in the new financial year wasn’t out of reach at all.
Oh, wasn’t 2,000 pounds exactly the annual income of the gentry Bennet family? Having caught up to that household, her next target was Mr. Bingley.
Having set herself this small goal, Mary said goodbye to an equally delighted Mr. Hunter. After that, she went to visit the two shops she worked with.
Soap was a household necessity everywhere. Since she couldn’t yet produce anything high-end, she’d have to rely on price advantage to hold her share of the market. That meant her little home workshop simply wasn’t going to cut it anymore.
Mary was already planning to purchase equipment, so that batch production could further bring down costs. As long as the price stayed low enough, there was no need to worry about finding buyers. London alone had a population in the millions, how many of those people could actually afford imported soap?
At the same time, she was also planning to build a proper workshop, somewhere near the River Lea in Meryton, not far from a nearby wharf either. Once a soap factory was up and running there, goods could be shipped straight to London via the inland waterways, and the same would go for potatoes, saving a great deal on transport costs.
Of course, things had to happen step by step, for now, she’d start by looking into the various equipment available on the market.
Currently, what the household used were the most basic tools: wooden tubs, a pot for rendering fat, molds, and drying racks, the simplest of everything.
To boost output, the fat-rendering pot would need to be large enough to render at least 500 pounds at a time, to bring the cost down enough. The saponification vats, too, would need to be far bigger and deeper than ordinary wooden tubs could manage.
Right now, with each bar weighing four ounces, Mary working alone could only manage about 1,000 bars a week. With upgraded equipment and a few more hands helping, a single saponification vat alone could produce 2,000 bars.
With the time saved, even if the wholesale price dropped to two and a half pence a bar, there’d still be profit in it.
Correspondingly, she’d need more molds too, that could be arranged with the carpenter in Meryton on the way back.
After some careful browsing, Mary finally found a used copper melting pot and a lead-lined vat at the secondhand market. They looked a little worn, but still usable. Buying them meant they’d have to be tried out anyway, no point feeling too precious about used goods.
Even so, worn as they were, together they still cost 30 pounds. Add in a suitable set of stirring tools, and another 5 pounds was gone.
“Let’s go, time to head home.” For the rest of this year, Mary likely wouldn’t need to make another trip to London. As for Mr. and Mrs. Richman, no one knew where they were now, she hoped, wherever they’d gone, they’d brought enough money with them to get by properly.
On the way back, they arranged the mold frames with the carpenter, and placed an order for pork fat at the slaughterhouse, before the group finally made it back to Longbourn.
They weren’t even home yet when the sound of a commotion reached them from not far off.
Mary looked out from the carriage toward the source of the noise, a crowd had blocked the only road leading in and out of Longbourn that could accommodate a carriage. Her carriage had already slowed to a stop, and Molly got down to see what was going on.
Just from the voices alone, she could pick out Lydia Bennet, no, Lydia Wickham! Her overly youthful voice carried a shrillness that made her impossible not to recognize.
“…I haven’t done anything wrong! I’m your wife, you have to help me—”
Although Mary didn’t know what had led up to this, she could tell that this Mrs. Wickham was arguing with her husband. As for why this was happening out on the road rather than at the Bennet house, that was curious enough on its own.
Hadn’t this woman, just returned home, been showing off her marriage all over Longbourn not long ago? Had things already fallen apart this quickly?
Seeing that the crowd showed no sign of clearing anytime soon, Mary simply got down from the carriage and walked over. She hadn’t even gotten close before she noticed people’s expressions turning strange the moment they spotted her, as if the whole business between that couple had somehow been her fault.
Did she really have that kind of power? Even though Mary knew perfectly well she was innocent in all this, she still proceeded with the utmost caution.
Watching trouble unfold could bring trouble of its own, she needed to make sure she didn’t get dragged into it.
Well, it seemed she wasn’t going to be able to just walk past pretending not to notice. No helping it, the whole main cast had already spotted her, and were now staring right at her! Lydia especially, if Mrs. Bennet hadn’t been holding her back, she probably would have lunged forward and torn out her hair.
“Excuse me, I’m just heading home.” Not knowing the details, Mary had no intention of bringing the matter up herself.
“Mother, let go of me!” Lydia’s voice shot up at once, her expression growing even fiercer as she looked at Mary. “Richman! Where did you take those potatoes? Didn’t you know the army was waiting for your delivery?”
“Now look what’s happened, because you delivered late, my husband’s been dragged into trouble because of you!” With one hard tug, and with Mrs. Bennet not daring to hold on too tightly, Lydia broke free.
The moment she was loose, she charged straight at Mary.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean. And, Mrs. Wickham, please don’t point your finger at me like that, it’s quite rude.” Mary stepped to the side, she didn’t like being pointed at.
“Ha, I’m rude? I’ve already been plenty polite! If it weren’t for you, how could my husband have possibly been—” Mm! Someone was covering her mouth.
Been what? Mary was listening quite closely, only to have Wickham himself step forward and clap a hand over his wife’s mouth.
After a few seconds’ pause, with no one in the crowd saying a word, Mary decided to let it go, she wasn’t all that curious anyway. She walked past the main cast and continued on toward home.
Had Mr. Richard found out about yesterday’s business? And if Wickham was somehow involved in this, could it be that he was the one behind it? What would his reason have been?
Mr. Richard was only the lowest-ranking lieutenant in the garrison, certainly not the one primarily responsible for supply matters. But he was the one Mary actually had contact with, and their dealings so far had gone smoothly enough.
As for Wickham, he was a lieutenant. For a lieutenant to be dealt with like this, it would have had to come from someone even higher up giving the order.
Thinking of the money she’d earned in London these past two days, Mary realized that if yesterday’s incident really had been Wickham’s doing, then it wasn’t hard to imagine how furious the higher-ups in the garrison must be now, knowing about it. A deal that could have turned several hundred pounds of profit, gone for nothing, anyone would be angry about that.
Combined with how Lydia had just acted, could it be that she was actually the one who’d sabotaged the deal? Mary couldn’t think of anything she’d ever done to offend the woman.
Once home, it didn’t take long before Molly brought back the answer.
“Mary, you won’t believe what’s happened!”
“Goodness, I heard from people in the know that Wickham’s been fined by the army, a full 400 pounds!” That had to be a serious offense, to warrant such a heavy fine.
400 pounds, that figure was awfully close to the actual profit margin on that resale deal. It really did seem the couple had been behind it, or at least one of them had been. As for their reason for doing it, Molly hadn’t managed to find that out either.
Well, never mind then, there hadn’t been much goodwill between them to begin with, going forward, it was probably best to keep even more distance.
Mary thought back to the wedding invitation the other Mary had extended earlier. If there had still been some chance of her going before, there was certainly no need to think about it now. Besides, she was married now, she had even less reason to go.
Last time, Mr. Darcy had been able to smooth over the elopement scandal, but this time? Would he cover the fine as well?
“No, William, this has nothing to do with you!” Before her fiancé could even speak, Elizabeth cut in with a firm refusal. “Lydia, you’re already married, you’re a Wickham now. Whatever you’ve done, you answer for it yourself!”
“I can answer for it, but you should all know, I did this to help Mary. Mary, my dear sister, isn’t that right?” Lydia quickly dragged someone else down with her.
Mary Bennet suddenly found herself the target of everyone’s stares. Unable to bear the pressure, she burst into tears and ran off.
Running and running, she found herself before long standing in front of the Richman house on the other side of the village.
That was the place, where she’d first laid eyes on the man who’d stolen her heart.
“Mary, the other Mary is here.”