Chapter 2
September 1783, Meryton
The Gardiner family gathered to say their goodbyes. It had been twelve months since they had lost their mother and elder sister to illness. With their mourning complete, the family resolved to move forwards.
Master Edward Gardiner was eager to attend Harrow and continue to Cambridge. An amiable young man, his fair colouring and good looks added to his appeal. His father, Meryton’s most respected solicitor, expected high success for his son as he sharpened his mind alongside affluent men his own age.
Miss Frances Gardiner, his twin sister—younger by twelve minutes—had greater difficulty. She clung to her brother, her slender frame still as she stared fixedly into his eyes. He returned her look with equal intensity. A moment later, she released her grip. “I shall take care of Papa,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Edward smiled at her as their father gazed lovingly upon them both. With his arm around his daughter’s shoulder, he watched his son’s carriage until it disappeared behind the trees.
His son’s departure would allow the patriarch to focus solely on his daughter. Andrew Gardiner had long since resolved to hire a governess for Franny, reasoning that with her beauty and inherent grace, she could raise her station above the expected merchant class. After interviewing dozens of potential governesses—and not finding that which he sought—he almost gave up until an impoverished gentleman’s daughter came to his attention in a most unceremonious manner.
Nearly a month after Edward’s departure, the household was awakened by a pounding on the front door in the middle of the night. Gardiner carried a candle, demanding. “Who wakes me at such an hour?”
“It is I, Goulding. The magistrate requires your counsel.”
Franny ran to him. “What is it, Papa?”
“Work, my dear. Extraordinary at this hour, but it is so.” He opened the door to find his grey-haired friend of many years standing on the stoop, holding a lantern aloft. “Where shall I find the magistrate?”
“They should return in an hour or two at the most. Come to the smithy.” Goulding turned and departed.
“Papa?”
Gardiner closed the door and turned to his daughter. “I fear someone within the county has met with an unfortunate accident. I must go help them.”
He dressed and allowed Franny to accompany him to the door. “Lock the door and return to your dreams, my dear.”
“I shall await your return. Expect something hot to warm you.”
Gardiner hugged his precious girl. “Thank you.”
The icy lake was a desolate sight, the surrounding landscape barren save a single leafless tree stretching towards the sky. The temperature had dropped deeply over the last few hours; the crisp air displayed their every breath.
“Rum business this,” declared the magistrate. Goulding nodded vigorously in agreement.
The body had been found under a tree marked with her initials and those of her husband, a chilling reminder of the love that had once existed between them. A last attempt to bask in warm memories, thought Gardiner.
He pulled his coat about him more tightly and stared into the wagon at the frozen corpse which earlier that week had been a distraught but very much alive Widow Harding.
“Master and mistress dead within weeks of each other—a sad pair of events. And yet, how fortunate for a distant cousin known to none of us,” noted Gardiner, referring to the entail on the Hardings’ estate. “Why would Mrs Harding not seek assistance?”
Goulding shook his head. “My wife learnt that an unscrupulous advocate lost the mistress’s portion.”
“So, she sacrificed herself in her grief. How tragic.”
“I will stop by your offices later today with statements for both of you to sign,” the magistrate said, sighing.
Goulding and Gardiner departed together. After only a few steps, Goulding cleared his throat. “Mrs Goulding would like you to call on her at your earliest convenience. Today, if possible.”
Gardiner contained his smile. Goulding did not. Both burst out laughing, releasing the stress of the last few hours. “What does General Goulding have in mind?”
“Good tidings for all, I daresay.”
“Excellent. Advise Mrs Goulding I shall be round after I have broken my fast.”
Mrs Goulding handed Gardiner a cup of tea. He sat back and waited for the neighbourhood’s leading matron to inform him of her wants. The lady did not hesitate to come to the point. “I fear for the reputation of the remaining Harding girl. The young lady has neither means nor protection.”
“What compels your interest in the Hardings’ misfortunes, madam?”
“The gossip will start quickly. Many will call the family ‘cursed’.” She set down her cup. “There is little I can do for her at this time, but you, sir, could be of great use.” Mrs Goulding described Miss Harding’s education, accomplishments, and charitable works.
“It appears to me she would make a fine governess for a family with a daughter,” observed Gardiner. “Although it is a step down for her.”
“She must find work even if a life serving those of her same sphere adds insult to her recent injury. Alas, there is nothing for it.”
Gardiner stared at his hostess. “You are thinking of my Franny?”
“I shall obligate you to nothing of course. Perhaps I might have Miss Harding available to answer questions and display her talents. Should you be satisfied, we shall have your delightful daughter for dinner. A family party, as it were.”
Thus, after one long afternoon, two interviews, several demonstrations of her accomplishments, and an intimate dinner, Miss Harding accepted employment into service and became a part of the Gardiner household.
Under Miss Harding’s direction, Franny learnt to play the piano well, her passion so prominent it surmounted a negligible lack of technical expertise. She also learnt more about literature and philosophy. Her father delighted in her passion and spent copiously on books from town suppliers, regularly donating to Meryton’s circulating library. A treasured arrival from town had him seek her out. He was surprised to find her in front of a blazing fire.
“Franny?” he called out. “What are you doing?”
She turned to him, a guilty look on her face.
He stepped next to her and looked into the fireplace. A hefty tome sat upon the embers. He pulled it from its future demise. “Were you planning to burn a book?”
She raised her chin. “The distasteful object in your hand hardly warrants the name, Father.”
Father? She must be furious indeed.
He turned the tome over to read the title. Fordyce’s Sermons.
“My dear, however I agree with you that the content within is insulting to your sex, I must admonish you upon your actions. You may give it as charity to the vicar, donate it to the circulating library, or even give it to a young lady who will appreciate its insipidity.”
He lifted her chin with a finger. “Now, go and confess all to Miss Harding. She will assign you a penance.”
Gardiner watched his daughter mature under Miss Harding’s direction. Franny was a wonder. Precocious, impertinent, and never ceasing to learn something new, she asked question after question and gloried in the answers provided. She loved being out of doors and spent much of her time rambling about the acreage of the estates bordering Meryton.
Thick, unruly hair topped a lithe figure. It was natural for her appearance to change through the differing seasons: she was dark-haired and fair-skinned throughout the winter, but the glorious summer sun kissed her hair a golden blonde and bronzed her elegant neck and arms.
One morning, while breaking his fast, he eavesdropped on a diverting exchange between his daughter and the housekeeper.
“Miss Gardiner! Again?”
“Forgive me, but the day was glorious. I find it hard to stay indoors when the Lord has granted such outdoor perfection.”
“Must these ‘outdoor perfections’ always cling to your hems?”
Franny giggled. He did not doubt that the housekeeper’s weathered face wore a smile. What could have only been a kiss to a leathery cheek whisked away all further admonishments.
Vivacity, wit, and beauty, Gardiner thought with no little satisfaction. She will make some man—a gentleman—an excellent bride.