The Investor
“I have a new investor, my dears, and he wishes to pay a courtesy call on my family,” Edwin Gardiner said to his dinner table.
He was inordinately pleased with his new business partner.
The man was polite and kind, had a sterling reputation for honesty, was well connected and rich as Croesus.
Though the overwhelming bulk of his family’s matchmaking tendencies devolved to his sisters, Gardiner was not oblivious to the fact the man was handsome enough that he might have to borrow Mrs Bennet’s salts when he was introduced.
Mr Gardiner was not a matchmaker per se, but he did have two handsome and eligible nieces in his home, one of whom would not be harmed by meeting a man who was not a feckless weasel.
“Who is this paragon?” Elizabeth asked.
“At the risk of emulating your father, I believe I shall withhold that information.”
Elizabeth scoffed slightly. “Last time Papa did that, it was to introduce a man who, ‘when he was dead, may turn us all out of the house as soon as he pleases’. It did not go well."
“I can assure you that this man has no such intentions,” Gardiner replied with a chuckle.
While he certainly could not approve his brother’s more mean-spirited tendencies, some of which one of his nieces shared a bit too much of, he did appreciate a good joke.
Of course, Gardiner was not suicidal, so he would naturally tell his wife privately.
He ignored most of his sister's yammering, and most other gossip as well, so he had no idea what had happened in Meryton the previous autumn, except that it left him hosting a shadow of his former niece, and he was weary enough to return her to Longbourn if she did not recover her spirits.
Elizabeth was abominably curious about the identity of the man, and to be honest, she was weary of Jane’s endless moping herself.
She spent the rest of the day enjoying the familiar comfort of working with Jane to extract the identity of the mysterious gentleman.
They attacked him in various ways–with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all.
They ended the evening somewhat frustrated, but she did notice that, for the first time, Jane seemed not only resigned but encouraged to meet someone new—even if he was a man.
Calling hours the next day found two of the ladies of Gracechurch Street anxiously awaiting something new and different, while the third, having paid more attention to her nieces in the autumn, awaited an encounter she expected to be highly entertaining.
The Bennet sisters maintained polite, ladylike, disinterested countenances right up until the moment their uncle introduced his guest with a self-satisfied smile worthy of their father.
“My dear, allow me to present Mr Darcy. Sir, my wife, and I believe you already know my nieces.”
Elizabeth stared nervously, but with a sense of foreboding that the piper’s bill might have come due, while Jane fell back on the serene countenance she used as her customary mask when receiving unwanted attention.
Mrs Gardiner, of course, welcomed the visitor with all propriety, ease, and politeness.
Within minutes she had him seated and his tea poured to his liking.
The man appeared perplexed by not being asked, which amused Elizabeth.
When she was thirteen and learning to be a lady instead of a hoyden, she struggled to remember the niceties.
She had devised a set of signals with her aunt so she could be reminded without embarrassment.
She simply used the age-old system in reverse with Mr Darcy none the wiser.
Mr Darcy seemed… altered. She wondered if he was truly different, or if she had not been in his company for so long she had forgotten.
His habitual frown was, if not entirely absent, at least reduced.
Had she no history with the frustrating man, she would have bashfully admitted he was blisteringly handsome, and in person and address most truly the gentleman.
Mr Bingley he was not, thank goodness, but there was an ease and friendliness he had never displayed before.
Mrs Gardiner gave Lizzy a pointed stare, remembering her assessment over Christmas, when Elizabeth asserted that ‘Mr Darcy would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were he once to enter Cheapside’.
Such had been her firmest conviction, and yet, here he was, not only visiting Gracechurch Street, but engaged in business with the man in trade, concerning whom he had unflinchingly (though correctly) asserted that such connections ‘must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world’.
At least it was true by his definition of any consideration, and yet, here he was.
With a sinking feeling, Elizabeth admitted that she knew exactly why.
Elizabeth saw Jane withdraw into herself with trepidation.
When she was nervous or excited, she smiled too much, and they were evenly distributed to all and sundry.
Jane had developed that habit as a defence against over a decade of being ‘the most handsome girl in the room’.
Elizabeth wondered if the strategy was excessive, and what kind of man might be able to overcome it.
Certainly not a weak-willed weasel like Mr Bingley.
Elizabeth had developed her own impertinence as a similar defence, but found that with Mr Darcy in the room, she had nothing to say… not a single thing. She wanted to talk, but there seemed to be an embargo on every subject.
Fortunately, no one intimidated Mrs Gardiner, and she had a ready source of conversation from her time in Lambton.
They spent some time discussing the town, with Mr Darcy learning that, while they did not move in the same circles, their connections were not entirely nil.
She knew acquaintances of his, and they were able to exchange news for a good quarter-hour without qualms.
The man, in quite an uncharacteristic bout of good manners, seemed to understand that she and Jane were uneasy, and he wisely did not press them.
When a half-hour had passed, and Elizabeth thought Jane was likely to either swoon, scratch the man’s eyes out, or pointedly demand an explanation, she hit upon a good strategy.
“We thank you for your visit, Mr Darcy, but I fear we promised the children a walk in the park, and we must keep our word.”
She thought the words rather incongruous for the first words in three months, but they would have to do.
“Would you object to my company,” he asked in an infuriatingly polite manner that she could not deny without appearing churlish. With respect to Mr Darcy, she did not mind being churlish, but she certainly did not want to appear so in her aunt’s parlour.
“You would be welcome,” Jane said, putting the matter to rest.
Since the children had no idea that this was their lucky day, it took another quarter-hour to have them dressed appropriately, but Mr Darcy seemed perfectly willing to sit talking to the Gardiners all day.