Chapter Twenty
The Clockmaker
The next evening, Darcy dressed with special care.
He wore his dark green superfine coat over a waistcoat of the palest gold and light fawn trousers with a faint stripe, a nod to modern sensibilities and fashion, whilst remaining true to his reputation as a man of the finest taste.
He had required his valet to retie his cravat thrice before he was satisfied, and he discarded two choices of footwear before declaring that this particular pair of shoes would suffice.
He wondered if Elizabeth were as concerned about her own appearance this evening, although she always looked perfect to his eyes.
He arrived exactly on time and was pleased to join Mr. Gardiner for a few minutes in the study, surrounded by large tomes and framed maps and piles of atlases upon the table by the window.
A large globe on a floor stand occupied the middle of the room; Darcy suspected the piece was as much an implement of business as of interest, and upon asking that question, he received an affirmative answer.
“My ships come from the far reaches of God’s earth,” Mr. Gardiner explained, “and flat maps do not allow me to fully appreciate the distances. My children spend much time in here with me, learning about the world in which we live and discovering what of its wonders I can show them, and this globe is often the centre of our learning.” He stood back to allow Darcy to examine the large sphere, which he did with approving clucks and nods.
“What a fine piece of craftsmanship this is!” he announced at last. “It is as beautiful as it seems, to my untrained eye, accurate. The models of the sun and moon, on those separate posts, must be excellent for teaching your children about the movement of daylight and the phases of the moon.”
“It is more than that,” Gardiner crowed. He knelt down to arrange a series of levers on the plinth at the base of the stand. Immediately, the sphere began to rotate of its own accord around its axis.
“Why, that is marvellous!”
“And it is more still, for I can have the globe stop at exactly the point I wish to determine the phase of the moon, the tides, and moreover...” he knelt again and manipulated the levers, and then stood back as Darcy’s mouth fell open in wonderment.
“The sun and moon... they move as well! How marvellous, truly marvellous!”
Mr. Gardiner was preening now. “I can arrange for the sun and moon to move about in such a way as to mimic the motions of the actual orbs, and by doing so, can determine times of daylight, dusk, tides, and all that, according to where exactly in our world a ship is. I can even set any date in the last hundred years, or in the next two hundred, and have the sun and moon move to their proper places. See here...” He grabbed a lamp off his desk and held it directly behind the model of the sun that floated above the globe.
He manipulated a shield before the flame, similar to a dark lantern, which restricted the light to a small disc.
“If this light is the light of the sun, then here...” he peered at the globe and pointed, “Bermuda, at seven o’clock in the evening, is in darkness, with perhaps a tinge of light on the western horizon. ”
“I say! That is astounding! What a marvellous piece that is. Wherever did you come across it? I should most dearly love to have one for my library at Pemberley, although I could hardly justify the expense.”
Mr. Gardiner gave a small cough. “It was a gift, from a most talented artisan. Come and meet him, for I believe I just heard the doorbell announcing his arrival.”
Darcy had been charmed by the singing bird music box Elizabeth had shown him at Longbourn, but such things, while exquisite and valuable, were not rare.
This globe, this moving globe with its independent sun and moon that could be set to find their place, was of another order altogether and nothing like he had ever seen before.
Marvellous, he murmured again under his breath as he followed his host. Simply marvellous!
The artisan himself, this genius of miniature mechanisation, was an unassuming man of some fifty years of so, short in stature and sparse of hair, with a pleasant face that must once have been quite handsome, and a self-deprecating manner.
“Oh, yes, you like my little toys. How charming of you to say so. I am always quite delighted when they please. How very kind.”
His wife, a plump lady of about the same years, was at first very shy and quiet, but upon becoming comfortable with the company, displayed a brilliant wit and an alarming sense of humour.
At first Darcy was rather shocked when the lady began to speak her thoughts, but very quickly decided she was one of the most original and amusing thinkers he had met in a very long time.
No wonder Elizabeth and the Gardiners admired this unusual couple so much.
If the company was unusual but fascinating, so was the meal.
The Mendels had peculiar dietary specifications and ate no meat, which was a revelation for Darcy.
He had heard, of course, of monks and ascetics adopting a vegetarian diet, but had never imagined partaking of one, even for a single meal.
He had, of course, broken his fast on breads and biscuits, or taken nothing but an apple or baked potato as a mid-day refreshment, but not once in his life could he recall a formal evening meal being made completely without a visit to the butcher or fishmonger.
This seemed a common event for the Gardiners and their cook, however, for the meal that was set before him was excellent, with small dishes of beans and vegetables in exotic spices, delicate pastries filled with greens and sharp cheese, aromatic plates of rice with fruits and nuts, and common vegetables served in very uncommon sauces.
“It is similar to curry,” he opined at one point during the meal, “but unlike anything I have tasted at the tables of my set who have Indian cooks.”
Mrs. Gardiner beamed. “The flavours are from the north of Africa and other Mediterranean areas. One of the many advantages of my husband’s business is that I may procure a great assortment of spices from around the world, merely by asking for them. We are most fortunate, Mr. Darcy.”
He could not disagree.
After the meal, which concluded with traditional English tea and cakes, as well as a selection of foreign sweets and puddings, Mrs. Mendel agreed to take a short turn at the keyboard.
Elizabeth had been correct: she performed with technical brilliance and with feeling and taste that left him marvelling that the woman had gifts equal to the concert stage.
He reflected yet again that he had quite been in error when supposing there to be anything inferior about such relations and other connexions.
Should Elizabeth ever agree to accept him, these would be family and friends of whom he could be most proud.
When the meal and tea had concluded, and everybody was feeling most comfortable and at ease, Mr. Mendel raised the subject which had been most on Darcy’s mind.
Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Mendel were discussing matters of the local orphans and widows society, leaving the rest of the small group seated around the low table at the other end of the parlour.
“I do believe, sir, that Miss Elizabeth mentioned a project on which you might wish for my poor assistance. I beseech you to tell it to me, and if it is at all within my powers, I will do what I can to help you.”
With this entrée, Darcy began to speak of the code machine Elizabeth had found.
He knew he could speak without reservation, for Richard had had the man thoroughly investigated, and he knew Mr. Mendel could be trusted with the information.
Darcy explained the need for absolute secrecy, and Mr. Mendel nodded, his face a study in sincerity.
The man would keep this knowledge to himself.
Thus assured, Darcy described the machine in his own words and then allowed Elizabeth to add her own observations, which helped to complete the image in their listeners’ minds.
As Elizabeth described the series of cams and chains and levers, the clockmaker’s eyes grew large and his smile spread wide across his face.
“Fascinating,” he uttered every few words, “most interesting, most amazing!”
“We were very much hoping, sir, that we might prevail upon you and your inestimable skill, to reconstruct this machine based on my drawings, and hopefully to reimagine the workings of the damaged portions so we might have a fully functioning model.”
The little man now burst out into a gale of laughter.
“What a treat! A delight! How I have longed for another challenge! My daughters, bless them, have both married good men and need me no longer, and I am at a loss for occupation right now. I have, only last week, completed the last of the automata and toys I had been commissioned to make for Christmas presents for those of your set, Mr. Darcy, and already my dear wife,” he looked over with adoring eyes to where that lady sat on the other side of the room, “has been complaining that I am out of sorts and under her feet all day. I shall gladly accept this request, and especially so as a service to this country, which has been a good home for me. When shall I begin?”
“Would tomorrow be too soon?” Darcy asked, to which Mr. Mendel replied that he could not be more pleased. The very great need for secrecy was reasserted, to which the clockmaker acceded at once, and plans were made to reconvene at his workshop, before Elizabeth gasped, “Oh no!”
“Whatever is the trouble, Miss Elizabeth?” Mr. Mendel asked. “If you require an additional chaperone, I should be most glad to request Rebecca—she is Mrs. Rossin now, you know?—to join us. She will not mind at all.”