Chapter Two
The appearance of not only Lord Lindale, heir to the Matlock earldom and Colonel Fitzwilliam, the viscount’s younger brother, but also their cousin Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy at Lady Ellis’s ball had sent a ripple of excitement across the room. Young women and their manipulative mothers had been happy they had accepted the baronetess’s invitation.
“Do we have an invitation?” Bingley asked in sudden surprise at the hum of breathlessness marking their appearance.
“It does not matter,” Lindale assured. “No one would dare ask us to leave.”
Thrilled to have four very-eligible gentlemen grace her home, Lady Ellis came to greet them. “Welcome, my lord. Gentlemen. Sir Robert and I are greatly honored by your presence at our small gathering.”
Darcy stared out upon the crowd, and his stomach turned over in anticipation. He had viewed smaller country assemblies, where every farmer or villager from miles around attended, than was this gathering in Sir Robert Ellis’s home. People were squeezed into each drawing room and sitting room and small salon, as they were in Sir Robert’s columned ballroom. A card room had been set up near the rear of the ballroom, and, though Darcy would have preferred a few hands of whist to making conversation with strangers, he stayed close to his cousins and Bingley.
“Every untitled and fresh-faced young lady in London must assuredly be in this room,” Lindale grumbled.
As a group, except for perhaps Bingley, who spoke to everyone who approached him, Darcy and his cousins respectfully nodded to acquaintances and ignored the overzealous mamas and social climbers vying for their attention.
Lindale took note of a black-haired beauty until the chit, at her mother’s prompting, put on a fake laugh that sounded like something from the hounds of hell.
“My hunting dogs are more melodious,” the viscount grumbled.
They started past a matronly woman and a pretty blonde, who both curtsied and dropped their eyes. Darcy quietly asked Fitzwilliam, “Do we know the woman, not the girl?”
Fitzwilliam paused to look over his shoulder just as the woman rose from her curtsey. “Her name is Madelyn Gardiner. Her husband owns the warehouses in Cheapside off Milk Street.”
“But why is her countenance so familiar?” Darcy pressed.
“Her husband’s warehouses are a favorite of my mother. Her maiden name is ‘Ericks.’ Her father was the local surgeon in Derbyshire. Mr. Gardiner told mother the tale of how his wife’s father drowned in the great flood. You remember, back when we were both still at Cambridge,” Fitzwilliam whispered. “Mr. Gardiner was proud to say his wife grew up near the Matlock estate.”
Darcy looked again. “The woman favors her mother in countenance.” His decision made, he said, “As the lady’s brother is my new rector, I should speak my respects.”
Lindale said in bored tones, “You will find me in the card room.” The viscount left them all standing along the dance floor.
Decision made, Darcy led the way back to the woman. “I apologize, ma’am. I did not recognize you, at first,” he said with a bow. Though he had not encountered the woman for more than fifteen years, it did him well to speak of his beloved Derbyshire. “The colonel was more knowledgeable than I.”
“Why would you recall me?” the woman said graciously. “My mother and I left Derbyshire some three years after my father’s passing. Though I understand from my brother Samuel that you have generously offered him the living at Lambton.”
“Your brother well deserves the position,” Darcy declared. “He moved from the curacy to the vicarage, with nary a complaint,” he said with a smile. “Mr. Ericks has easily earned my patronage.” He turned to the other two gentlemen. “Naturally, you are acquainted with my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“I am, sir. It is good to encounter you again.” To Darcy, she said, “Lady Matlock has asked my husband for specific items to update several rooms at Matlock House. The colonel escorted his mother to Mr. Gardiner’s warehouse, where I was delivering my husband’s midday meal.”
In Darcy’s opinion, the woman did not have the look of a “cit.” On appearance alone, Mrs. Gardiner could easily be a countess herself.
Darcy motioned to Bingley. “With your permission, ma’am, I would also give you the acquaintance of Mr. Charles Bingley, a dear friend since my days at Cambridge.”
The woman smiled sweetly. “I am aware of Mr. Bingley by reputation, but not in person.”
Darcy glanced to his friend. A quizzical brow asked the question not on his lips. Bingley responded, “Mr. Gardiner and I often bid against each other when houses are to be sold with all their contents included.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s smile never left her lips. “I always say, instead of competing against each other, it would be better if you and my husband found a means to combine forces.”
Darcy noted the look of wonder on his friend’s countenance, and he knew an idea had hatched in Bingley’s mind.
Before their conversation ended, Mrs. Gardiner snatched the opportunity to provide them with the acquaintance of the young lady at her side. “Please pardon my forwardness, gentlemen. If you hold no objections, might I give you the acquaintance of my niece, Miss Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire. Miss Bennet’s mother is the younger sister of my dear Mr. Gardiner.”
When Darcy turned to look fully upon the young woman, he found an exceedingly handsome countenance. Blonde and breathtakingly beautiful. Extremely pleasant upon which to look. Oval face and heavenly blue eyes. Creamy white complexion. Taller than he expected, but not awkwardly so. Slim and willowy.
“Charmed, Miss Bennet,” the colonel said with an eye of appreciation. Bingley responded likewise, while Darcy said, “If you are not previously engaged for the first set, Miss Bennet, please do me the honor of escorting you through the opening dance.”
“I would be honored, Mr. Darcy,” she said softly, almost too softly for Darcy’s tastes. How could they hold the necessary conversations if he could not hear her over the music, but he made no comment.
The colonel requested the lady’s second set and Bingley the third.
“I will return soon,” Darcy told Miss Bennet and followed his cousin, who spotted others he recognized. Darcy knew their attention to the young woman would assure her success on this evening, and he privately cursed himself for not asking for more than one set, but he wondered if he and the lady would have enough of which to discuss to fill one set, let alone two.
Before the musicians indicated their intentions to begin the music, he had followed his cousin about the room, where he had immediately forgotten more names than a gentleman in society should. It was not because he thought himself superior, but, rather, on first taking the acquaintance, he learned something of a person. He could recall every detail he or she had shared, barring his or her name. Even so, he had asked for the company of six ladies this evening and had known gratification to be accepted for all.
Finally, he returned for Miss Bennet’s hand, removing her from the company of several adoring admirers and leading her onto the floor where the sets were forming. They began the country dance in silence, but when the set brought them together a second time, he asked, “How long do you expect to be in London, Miss Bennet?”
“Just for a few weeks, sir,” she said so softly, he could barely hear her.
“And do you enjoy London?” he inquired.
“I likely enjoy it more than my sister Elizabeth,” the young woman admitted. “I am generally content with wherever I reside.”
“And you are from Hertfordshire?” Darcy wanted to ask why her sister despised London, but it was important to learn as much as he could of the lady during their one dance together. Darcy had not spent much time in Hertfordshire itself, but he knew enough about Cambridge to know something of the area.
“Yes, the northern part, not near St Albans,” she explained as she danced away from him, while he was required to circle another young woman with whom he made himself acknowledge her with a “good evening” and a compliment on her “lightness of foot,” which appeared to please her.
At length, he and Miss Bennet came together again. “My family home, as your aunt likely informed you, is in Derbyshire.”
“Yes, Aunt Gardiner says it is quite grand,” she said so softly he had to bend his head to hear her properly.
Darcy did not comment on his estate. Few who ever viewed it could present Pemberley with criticism beyond a regret of not owning it themselves.
“And you have family in Hertfordshire?” he asked, still attempting to determine her background. He would not admit it to anyone, especially his Uncle Matlock, who would have him marry into the aristocracy, as did Darcy’s father, Darcy would prefer someone of the gentry.
“Yes. My father has an estate near a small market town known as Meryton,” she replied somewhat stiffly.
Darcy found himself a bit irritated with her lack of details. Did she not understand the conversation during a country dance set was a means to a courtship?
“Have you siblings?” he asked. “I have a younger sister for whom I serve as guardian, along with Colonel Fitzwilliam.” He executed several turns and circled another within their set.
“Sisters,” she replied simply. Did such mean her father’s estate was unentailed or entailed upon another? Whichever was so, it could prove to his advantage, for she would have some understanding of the need to preserve Pemberley with a speedy marriage.
He thought to add a compliment, something that did not come naturally to him. He often thought of such niceties, but did not know whether others might wish to hear them. “Are your sisters as lovely as you?” he managed.
“Naturally, I believe them each superior in more ways than I care to mention,” she said with a slight blush, which told him the girl had been sent to London to find a husband. Well, if such was true, she would know success. She was pretty enough to attract several suitors, and she was the daughter of a gentleman. The music, at last, came to an end, and Darcy returned her to her aunt’s side. He spoke briefly again to Mrs. Gardiner and made arrangements to call upon Miss Bennet on the morrow.
As he turned to walk away to claim his second dance partner, he thought, “ Beautiful enough to satisfy a man’s desire. Could be a model of ladylike decorum to Georgiana. Obviously, a simple girl, who is more accustomed to the country than Town life. Not full of the flirtatious manners taught by the ‘managing’ society mamas. I could do worse. ” Even so, Darcy would admit, if only to himself, he had always thought to love his own wife with the same intensity as had George Darcy, who had absolutely adored Lady Anne Darcy. So much so, his father essentially grieved himself to death. “ Yet, first and foremost, you must save Pemberley. ”
At the evening’s end, Darcy had seen Bingley back to his London terrace home—a very respectable newer dwelling, but it was not Mayfair.
Darcy ventured to say before Bingley stepped down, “You chose well in choosing Miss Bennet’s third dance. The minuet provided you more time to discuss a variety of topics.”
“She is quite delightful, you know, Darcy.”
Although he had only been mildly impressed with the young woman, Darcy said, “I found her so as well.” He added, “Did she speak to you about her sister Elizabeth?”
“Quite extensively,” Bingley said. “Miss Bennet also spoke well of her sisters Miss Mary and Miss Katherine, who they called ‘Kitty.’”
Before he could cover up that he knew Miss Bennet had not been so talkative with him, he asked, “No brothers?”
“Apparently not,” Bingley remarked, but with less enthusiastic tones than previously.
“What of the entailment?” Darcy prodded.
“The lady did not say, and, like you, I do possess a gentleman’s education; therefore, I did not ask. I do not see how such is important, though I know others consider it so. Miss Bennet did not portray herself as an heiress, just simply as a gentleman’s daughter.”
“Absolutely. You are correct. I was simply curious as Mrs. Gardiner is from Lambton. Her father was well liked in the neighborhood. The family lost one of the brothers, who also planned to be a surgeon, like his father,” Darcy explained.
Bingley confided, “The lady mentioned an estate some three miles removed from her father’s which became empty with the passing of its owner. It is available to let, with an option to purchase. I have been looking in Kent and Buckinghamshire, for I will require one with a close proximity to London, but Hertfordshire would not be too far from my business interests in London. Much better than Lincolnshire, where my father chose to live. Miss Bennet says it is a little less than three hours to London by coach. I was thinking I may have my man of business inquire of the property. Netherfield Park is its name. Do you know it?” his friend asked in hopeful tones.
“I fear I do not,” Darcy shared, “but I could also ask around if you have a need of my services.”
“I thank you for the offer, but I shall begin with my own man first. I would not wish to trouble yours.”
“It would be no trouble,” Darcy insisted.
Bingley ignored Darcy’s words regarding assistance. Instead, his friend said, “Miss Bennet spoke eloquently of it to me, and her description gave me to believe it might satisfy Caroline. You know how my sisters wish me to establish an estate so we may move more freely in society. Assuredly, it will not be easy. As you well know, I will be the first of the Bingleys to place my feet upon the sacred realm of the landed gentry. I will be watched carefully to determine if I ruin the land and abuse the unspoken rules of society, but claiming an estate of my ownt was the dying wish on my father’s lips, and I promised not to destroy the legacy he began, but, rather, expand it for my children and my children’s children.”