10. Gracechurch Street, London—11 December 1809
Catching up with her aunt and uncle was always a pleasure.
Since Elizabeth frequently wrote to her Aunt Maddie, and since her Uncle Edward had been the one who had first urged her to write to gentlemen horticulturalists, the two were almost up-to-date on everything that had happened, including the surprise that her highly valued horticulture correspondent also bred birds.
But there were still a few surprises. Aunt Maddie immediately addressed one.
“I knew all about you writing to a gentleman scientist, and where you got his name and direction, but, Lizzy, I never realised that it was Mr Darcy from Pemberley!” She turned to her husband and asked, “Edward, why did you not tell me?”
“I promise that I never knew. I did not read the entire article, as Lizzy did; and after she wrote her letters, and only one gentleman wrote back, I never thought to ask for his name and estate name. She did not write or tell me his name; instead she and I referred to him as ‘Megs.’”
“Megs?”
Elizabeth said softly, “The first time I reported to Uncle about Mr Darcy’s informative answer, to my very first letter, I referred to him as ‘My Esteemed Gentleman Scientist.’ And from then on, it was just MEGS.”
“I see. Well, Edward, you are therefore exonerated—although I believe a little more care on your part might have been warranted, as your very young niece exchanged letters with a gentleman at your suggestion, you likely should have at least known his true name.”
Uncle Edward hung his head. “You are correct.”
“Excuse me, Aunt,” Elizabeth interrupted, “you do not seem to know Mr Darcy, but you clearly know of him. But…why and how and what do you know of him?”
“My dear, I have told you many times about growing up in Lambton.”
“Of course.”
“Well, Lambton is but five miles from Pemberley, and that great estate has much influence on the town. The Darcys have lived in Derbyshire for generations and have built several iterations of Pemberley since they received a land grant from William the Conqueror….” She had to stop to catch her breath, she spoke with so much enthusiasm.
“At any rate, the Darcys have a sterling reputation for at least several generations back, and they are considered excellent masters and landlords. That excellence includes, from what my old friends tell me, this Mr Darcy you have now met.”
“From what I know of him, I am not surprised he has a good reputation,” Elizabeth said.
Aunt Maddie said, “I have never before met this Mr Darcy, but I met his parents quite a few times, and they were excellent people.”
“You should bring that up to him next time you see him, if there is a next time.”
“It sounded as if he was attempting to make plans to take you places.” Her aunt’s arch look confirmed that she meant more than the simple words conveyed, and Elizabeth was not in the mood to permit such conjecture.
She said, “Aunt, I am sensible of the fact that he is far above me in wealth and consequence. I have no desire to set my cap for someone who is surely meant to marry a diamond of the first water.”
“What if he wishes to set his cap—or his beaver hat—for you?”
Elizabeth felt herself blush. She said, carefully, “There are times when I feel that Mr Darcy appreciates our shared interests, and even my character, but I do not believe that he would ever stoop to my level for an attachment so dear.”
“Do you not?”
Mr Darcy had asked the same question just a few days ago, and Elizabeth blushed as she remembered the exchange. It still seemed pretty flirtatious, which was equal parts thrilling and mortifying.
“I do not believe he will, or ever would,” she said repressively.
“Well,” her aunt said, giving Elizabeth a hug, “you know best. I did like what I saw of his manners, and all reports are that his character is exemplary. I am very pleased that your MEGS is so kind as to bring you to London, including going several miles out of his way.”
“From Mr Darcy’s very first letter to me, two years ago, he has shown himself to be kind, answering the questions of a younger, poorer, less educated, less everything horticulturalist.”
“Now, now, my dear,” Aunt Maddie protested. “You are not less everything to anyone. I daresay you are more lively than Mr Darcy, for example.”
Elizabeth grinned but changed the topic of conversation by asking after the children’s health, her aunt’s comfort, and her uncle’s business. As her aunt showed her to her usual room, she could see a brightly coloured cloth tied with a ribbon sitting on her bed.
“That cannot possibly be a gift for me, Aunt,” she protested. “I am already enjoying the gift of your hospitality.”
Her aunt waved away her demurral. “Nonsense. I saw a very pretty little fashion taking hold of the ton, and I thought you might like it. However, I assumed its cost would make it impossible for me to present it to you—but then a merchant your uncle deals with from the East Indies gave him a very special deal on one in order to convince your uncle to buy some of his wares. I immediately determined that it would be the perfect Saint Nicholas’s Day gift for you—although several days late. ”
Elizabeth laughed, shook her head, and unwrapped the gift. The gleam of five slender rings shocked her. “Are these made of gold? And five rings instead of one? This is too fine a gift.”
“You see,” Aunt Maddie explained, carefully holding Elizabeth’s right hand and threading each ring onto the ring finger of that hand, “they are called stacked rings; they look delicate, but worn together they make quite a statement. I had thought that someone like you might wish to know you have access to extra money, ready to hand as it were. You could sell just one and likely solve any problem you may have—and you will still have four rings left.”
“I thank you, Aunt. I have never seen this fashion, not even in a fashion plate, but I do think it lovely. And I have never had a ring of any sort—so, to go from none to five is quite amazing.” She hugged her aunt again.
“Shall we go visit your cousins before you rest and change for dinner? They have been so looking forward to your visit.”
“Yes. I have been scheming about ways the children and I can enjoy my first true winter in London.” Elizabeth laughed at her aunt’s sceptical smile, but they walked upstairs and towards the sound of three children and the Gardiners’ nursery maids.