11. Wild Marshes and Mudflats—Wednesday, 13 December 1809
Darcy, disturbed by the notion that he might never see Miss Bennet again, sent a written invitation to her and the older two Gardiner children for a bird-watching outing to the mudflats and marshes of the River Thames.
He suggested his sister’s companion, Mrs Annesley, as an appropriate chaperone, since Miss Darcy was busy with their aunt, Lady Matlock.
His invitation was enthusiastically accepted, and thus his comfortable barouche pulled up to the kerb in front of the Gardiners’ house.
The day was one of the rare bright-and-sunny December days, and so the top of the carriage had been put down. “It will take us about three-quarters of an hour to reach the Blackwall Stairs,” he told Miss Bennet while she and the children were bundling up against the chilly air.
Darcy enjoyed the children’s enthusiasm for everything they saw.
A timber wagon was as exciting as a slow-moving flock of sheep being driven along the turnpike road.
Miss Bennet was almost as keen to see and comment on everything as the children.
She pointed out house sparrows, kites, buzzards, ravens, and even carrion crows.
Miss Bennet, Miss Gardiner, and Miss Margaret were all smiles, and whenever Miss Bennet glanced towards him, Darcy felt himself mirroring her smile.
Still, he had organised this pleasure outing, and he took his responsibility for the safety of Miss Bennet and the children very seriously.
Not only were his driver and footmen armed, but he had arranged for two armed guards to flank the carriage.
Despite taking all precautions, Darcy remained alert, studying the area for potential unpleasantness or worse, and even when answering the children’s questions, he kept up his vigil.
Mrs Annesley seemed to notice his watchfulness. She leant towards him and whispered, “I commend your protective instincts and admire your care.”
“Thank you,” he murmured back.
Miss Bennet caught her breath as they reached the mudflats. “Oh, a grey heron! How lovely. And…is that a great cormorant? I have never seen one of those before…. And look at the mallards flying over the water!”
The tilt-wherry Darcy had hired would be rowed by four liveried watermen, and the amenities included a tilt to shield passengers from chilling winds, charcoal-burning foot-warmers, and fur lap blankets.
“Now,” Miss Bennet whispered to the children as they got cosy in the little boat, “we are here to see wild greylag geese, which are very, very shy of humans. If you talk loudly, we will not see any, so we are all to keep our comments and questions to a whisper. Will you agree to that?”
“Yes,” both children answered in whispers.
The boat smoothly glided along the tidal channels of the mudflats, silently approaching a huge flock of greylag geese.
Darcy wordlessly offered his pocket-telescope, and they passed it around to watch the geese tipping up to eat the aquatic vegetation.
When the boat got quite close to the flock, one of the vigilant sentinel geese gave a sharp alarm call, and the entire flock launched up in a V-formation.
Looking into Miss Bennet’s sparkling eyes, Darcy knew that the outing was already a success.
Yes, they had a hamper full of delicious food and hot beverages, and yes, the flock would settle down again, and yes, they would see other birds.
But…it was already worth all the time and effort he had spent making arrangements…
Miss Ellen Gardiner, only six years old, spotted a nest with six eggs.
It was under a bush near the area where the flock of geese had resettled—and then, later, flew off into the sky again—so it was not unreasonable that she whispered, “Look! The geese left a nest full of eggs!” She was smiling widely, her eyes dancing with excitement over her discovery.
“These are not—” Miss Bennet started to murmur just as Darcy began to explain, “It cannot be—”
They both stopped speaking, then Darcy waved his hand as if he was saying, “Go ahead.”
Miss Bennet peered carefully at the nest and said softly to her young cousin, “These are too small to be goose eggs.”
Darcy further explained in a whisper, “Also, the greylag geese we saw here do not lay eggs any time other than spring—months from now.” He turned to Miss Bennet. “Do you suppose these are pigeon eggs?” he murmured.
“I believe they are,” she replied. She looked concerned as she asked the question he was asking himself. “How could a nest full of pigeon eggs get out here?”
Miss Gardiner said, “Do you suppose pigeons live out here with the geese?”
“No.” Darcy noticed that Miss Bennet and he both whispered the word at the same moment and with identical finality.
Miss Gardiner’s excitement had changed to dread as she took in the expressions of the two adults. “Lizzy, are the baby birds froze?”
“Yes, darling Ellen, I am afraid they are frozen. You see, several kinds of city birds take advantage of chimneys and other warm places and lay eggs all year around. Do you see how the nest looks like it was coated in black soot? I imagine that it was keeping toasty warm from the winter fires.”
“The bird mama and papa did not move their nest out here. Did they?”
“No, Ellen. A bird would not and could not move a nest full of eggs out here to the marsh. So it must have been a human who moved the nest, and I have no idea why. It seems to me a casually cruel thing to do.”
The little girl nodded, her mouth in a straight line as if she was fighting the desire to frown.
“However,” Darcy offered, “if it helps you cope with the sad situation, I am positive that some creatures are going to find these eggs and eat them, and they may survive the winter just because of the eggs. We will never know, of course, but the death of one animal often means life for another.”
Miss Gardiner looked more hopeful, and Miss Bennet shot him a grateful glance.
Mrs Annesley had been very alert yet quiet during the outing, but now she offered a verse from William Cowper:
“The vital principle that moves
In living nature, flows from thy command…
All feed on one another, and are fed
By universal love."
The rest of the outing proceeded as Darcy had planned, with multiple sightings of the greylag geese, plus curlew, redshank, black-tailed godwit, herring gulls, and even a peregrine falcon.
The little group pointed, pretended to clap and cheer—making gestures but no sounds—and ate and drank, as well.
Eventually, they turned back towards the carriage.
The carriage driver had built a small fire to heat bricks to keep their toes toasty and potatoes to keep their hands warm.
Both children cuddled with Miss Bennet, and once their chilly cheeks were warmed up, they fell asleep on her, pinning her into a single position.
Darcy smiled at her. “You are quite the beloved cousin.”
“Well, I am pretty much the only one who responds to Uncle and Aunt’s invitations with a ‘Yes, please.’” She grinned. “So I know the Gardiner children far better than my sisters do, and of course vice versa.”
“I think they enjoyed themselves today.”
“They definitely did,” Miss Bennet responded.
“I thank you again and again. Even when you asked me, I worried about how cold and footsore we would be before we saw any birds—but you organised everything so beautifully. We are all three grateful, and my aunt and uncle are as well, but they will be even more thankful when we tell them about the day.”
They spoke more about bird watching opportunities in and near London, then non-bird related things to do in London, the first lecture they hoped to go to, and of course the weather.
As they approached Gracechurch Street, Darcy studied the two children and felt certain they were still asleep. He glanced over at Mrs Annesley, smiled at her nod, and then turned to fully face Miss Bennet. “May I call on you tomorrow?”
Miss Bennet’s eyes flew up to his, and her gloved hand moved up to her mouth. “Call on me…?”
“Yes, as in the first steps of courtship.” He felt flustered and tried to explain, “Naturally, I understand that I have already taken some steps, called on you already, arranged this outing, asked about other possible outings. So tomorrow’s call could not properly be called the first step of courtship; my apologies for the miscommunication. ”
He shut his eyes briefly, displeased with his inability to speak well in this situation. He took in a calming breath and then opened his eyes to her gaze. What is she feeling?
Her cheeks were pink, but they had been so all day because of the chilly air. Her eyes were bright and sparkling—but did that mean she felt delighted to have him call on her, or mortified to be asked such a thing, or wishing to retreat to being merely monthly correspondents or just friends?
How could he ever know?
He assumed he should ask what she was thinking, but what words and tone would be appropriate? He did not wish to seem so desperate for reassurance that he made her feel uncomfortable. Worse yet, he did not wish to appear haughty, or critical, or rakish or….
Miss Bennet interrupted his spiralling thoughts. “I would be happy to have you call on me.”
The carriage pulled up to the kerb in front of the Gardiner home.
Darcy helped Miss Bennet shepherd the two sleepy children back to their grateful parents.
He graciously turned down Mrs Gardiner’s invitation to stay and join their dinner, reminding her that Mrs Annesley was waiting for him in his carriage.
He bowed over Miss Bennet’s hand and murmured, “Until tomorrow.”