Chapter XIV #3
“Are you suggesting that you will stay there?” asked Mr. Gardiner.
Mrs. Gardiner offered a helpless shrug. “I am no less eager to go to London and speak with my silly niece than Lizzy is. Yet it is not prudent to leave the situation as it is.”
“You always have had a deft touch with my sister,” agreed her husband.
“Our carriage will arrive at Longbourn by tomorrow,” continued Mrs. Gardiner. “And the children are waiting. I cannot stay long as there are matters in London waiting for my attention, but I can spare a few days.”
“And even more practical,” said Elizabeth, feeling a little mischievous, “you have a far better chance of settling Mama than I do. Mama never listens to me.”
Mr. Gardiner nodded and turned back to Mr. Darcy. “That, I believe, is the best course. We shall travel to Longbourn, and my wife will remain there.”
“Very well,” said Mr. Darcy.
The gentleman tapped on the roof, and when the carriage slowed to a halt, he stepped out to speak with the driver. Before they started again, he stuck his head back inside the carriage.
“Is the most direct route to Longbourn through Luton?”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth. “The path will take us through Meryton, then on to Longbourn.”
Mr. Darcy nodded and stepped back outside to give the instructions. Then he entered the carriage, and the driver urged the horses into motion.
“After we stop at Longbourn,” said the gentleman, “we can proceed south to Watford and change horses for the last time.”
“Prudent,” said Mr. Gardiner. “The inn in Meryton is not a coaching inn—it receives little traffic and does not maintain post horses.”
“Just so,” agreed Mr. Darcy.
Elizabeth knew he had some knowledge of the inn, which her father had once decried as unfit for any gentleman of means.
“Now, I will caution you about one matter,” said Uncle Gardiner, his gaze passing between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. “It would be best to remain silent about Darcy or your engagement—in her current state, I have no notion about how my sister will react, but it cannot be good.”
Mr. Darcy pondered this for only a moment before he disagreed. “Pardon me, Mr. Gardiner—you know your sister better than I do, but might the knowledge not improve matters?”
Bemused, Mr. Gardiner motioned for Mr. Darcy to continue. “Your suggestion fascinates me, sir. Please explain your reasoning.”
“It will give her something else to think about,” replied Mr. Darcy, showing diffidence where confidence usually reigned. “Would the news of an engagement not divert her from her lamentations?”
Mr. Gardiner turned to Elizabeth, an eyebrow quirked in question. “What say you, Lizzy? Are you prepared for your mother to know about your engagement?”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, “but I would not feel comfortable publishing our agreement until my father at least gives his blessing.”
“That is even better,” said Mr. Darcy, not hesitating for a moment. “If you present it to your mother as something that needs to be kept within the family until we speak to your father, then she cannot spread it about the neighborhood.”
“I see you do not yet understand my sister,” muttered Mr. Gardiner.
“The trick,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “will be to emphasize it with Maggie. If you insinuate it might fall apart if she breathes a word to anyone, she will be silent as the grave. I will also be on hand for a few days to reinforce the warning.”
“Have you any notion what you will tell her about Miss Lydia?” asked Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Gardiner grimaced, but he responded at once.
“I should think that will depend on what we discover in London. It would be best if we could bring her news of her daughter’s wedding, whatever form it takes.
The truth will do us no credit, but until it is settled, we cannot know what account to spread through the neighborhood. ”
“Then give Mrs. Bennet something else to consider,” said Mr. Darcy.
Elizabeth gave the gentleman a saucy look. “Can you withstand my mother, Mr. Darcy? Do you possess the fortitude?”
The gentleman did not hesitate. “It seems that I must build up my tolerance, Miss Bennet. By the time we return to Hertfordshire, I suspect she will be tolerably composed.”
“Then that is what we shall do,” said Elizabeth.
“When we arrive, I shall go to my sister’s room and persuade her to descend,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “You can then explain your engagement to her with the appropriate cautions. I suggest you depart soon after.”
“That would be for the best,” agreed Mr. Gardiner. “The day is waning, and more importantly, we will wish to be well away by the time she recovers her equilibrium.”
With that decided, they returned to their usual mode of traveling, brief conversations interspersed between periods of silence.
Elizabeth did not know what awaited them at Longbourn—or perhaps she knew precisely what awaited them.
Regardless, they would be there before long.
She could not wait to see Jane’s surprise.
Elizabeth intended to tease her sister about Mr. Bingley’s return.