Chapter 5
The matriarchs of Meryton and the surrounding neighbourhoods met regularly to discuss the leading topics of the day, or more accurately, to gossip about the social goings-on and the future marriage pairings. The ladies weighed and measured every unmarried male and female living in the county, regardless of age, by the strict criteria of the marriage mart—connexions, dowry, and social status.
“Miss Gardiner is newly back in town,” said Mrs Harrington with a little sniff.
“Yes, her father informed Mr Goulding the other day. She has completed her seminary education,” added Mrs Goulding. As much as her husband and she regarded Mr Gardiner and his children, other mothers with unmarried daughters would not welcome a pretty addition to a neighbourhood where already there were more unmarried ladies than bachelors.
Mrs Harrington sniffed again. “Miss Gardiner is nearly a bluestocking—she was educated above herself. Her mother’s portion will ensure she attains the name.”
“The Gardiners have no town connexions and, even with the respect of the community and his success with his firm, her father remains a tradesman,” added Mrs Long.
“She is a darling girl. Any young man would be lucky to win her favour,” Lady Haversham said.
It is easy for you to be generous, my lady. Your only daughter is fortunately too young to compete for the marriage mart, thought Mrs Goulding. “Come now, my dears. Miss Gardiner is kind, charitable, and intelligent. No other young lady has her breadth of education.” Mrs Goulding knew she need fear no one in the group. Her strong town connexions left no doubt of a satisfactory match for her own son. Why, her cousin, Viscountess Newbury, had already spoken to her regarding their youngest daughter!
She waved a spoon at her friends. “Miss Gardiner is too exceptional for our neighbourhood’s untried, green lads. Mark my words. A mature squire would do very well with her as his helpmeet.”
Lace-capped heads nodded, with varying degrees of enthusiasm, acknowledging the wisdom of the leading lady’s proclamation. Mrs Harrington and Mrs Long looked relieved, as they would not encourage the young neighbourhood heirs to seek out Miss Gardiner, leaving those candidates for their deserving daughters.
Thus, it was determined that Miss Gardiner would do well to aspire to a marriage to a mature or widowed estate owner, as she had nothing to attract those of a higher sphere. She would likely go to London and rely on her brother to introduce her to his fellow university acquaintances.
Bennet stared at his childhood home. His attention was caught by a single second-storey window set in sturdy red brick peeking through brilliant, verdant green ivy. The late morning sun began to crest the grey slate roof. He guided his mount through the low stone gate. Handing off his horse, he walked to the house and banged the knocker. The door opened, and a familiar, rail-thin ancient greeted him. Hodgeson.
“Welcome home, Colonel,” rasped the octogenarian servant. “Your brother awaits you in the large parlour.”
Bennet snorted as he was reminded once again of Lord Matlock’s unwelcome largesse. He looked about. Nothing had changed—the rugs, furnishings, wall colours—all were as he remembered. He knew not what to make of it. Has time stood still for all but me?
He entered the large parlour where a coffin dominated the room. Arranged directly in front were a pair of small, plain wood chairs. Only one was occupied. The seated man looked up, stood, and bowed.
“Colonel Bennet, good morning. I have been awaiting your arrival.”
“Mr Gardiner, I presume?”
“At your service, sir.”
“As my sole correspondent regarding these matters, what do you suggest?” He gestured towards the coffin.
“The process is fairly straightforward. Funeral, interment, eulogies if desired. Reverend Knowles leads, and we poor mortals only follow.”
Bennet joined Gardiner in a brief chuckle. “I would have thought Reverend Knowles retired by now.”
“It is but one of several matters you will want to address once you settle in.” Gardiner tapped his nose with a forefinger. Bennet understood the gesture and waited for the subject to change.
“What are your immediate plans?”
“I am meeting a cohort later, so I have arranged for sustenance at the Red Bull this evening.”
Gardiner nodded. “Excellent. Melville takes great pride in plying his trade.” He gestured towards the door. “You shall find copies of all the estate documents, filed with the Chancery, in the study. I will make myself available if required.”
“Is the task that arduous?”
“Your predecessor thought so. Good day, sir.” Gardiner bowed and departed.
Bennet watched him pass through the Longbourn gates and wondered what his elder brother had done to so lose that man’s regard.
An hour later, Bennet leant back against the wall of The Red Bull in Meryton and glanced around the common room. The inn was busy. To his trained eye, Melville needed more servants. As that thought almost whispered away, the man himself stopped and enquired of Bennet’s needs.
“I am very well. You, though, need more hands.”
Melville nodded. “My wife is usually here charming our guests. She is currently in her confinement with our first child.”
“My congratulations to you both. Please accept my good wishes.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Both men looked across the room to the entrance. A lean man sporting an eye patch surveyed the crowd. He could not suppress the danger his stance radiated; those standing near him seemed to edge away from him.
“I believe your party has arrived, Colonel.” Melville gulped. He looked as if he wished to say more, but the uncertainty on his face spoke volumes.
“Reeves,” called Bennet. He raised his hand.
Reeves inclined his head in recognition and, with uncommon agility, crossed the room. “Colonel,” he acknowledged.
“Melville, allow me to introduce Sergeant Reeves. He is joining me at Longbourn.” Reeves nodded. “Reeves, this is the proprietor, Mr Melville, our newest friend.” He said the last word with much emphasis.
Reeves acknowledged the command. He turned to the inn’s owner. “Nice to have a friend in a new town. Know you can call on me should needs be.”
Melville exhaled. “That is mighty kind. Thank you. Thank you, both.” He quickly left them.
“Your plan, Colonel?”
“The Hills arrive later this week. A few changes at Longbourn are required, which I shall allow them to address.” He eyed his armourer. “Meryton is not the Seven Dials. Try not to cause too much of a stir, hm?”