Chapter IV #3
“Were you sleeping or fishing?” asked Darcy.
“It depended on whether the fish were biting,” replied Gardiner with aplomb.
“Aye, that is the truth,” said Darcy. “I recall many such afternoons when I was a lad.”
Darcy fell silent, staring into the distance, appearing contemplative.
Gardiner followed his gaze, seeing only the landscape where Darcy appeared to see something more.
The woods of Pemberley were among its many treasures, the park in which they stood remaining in its natural state rather than the sculptured lawns and gardens so often seen at most estates.
“Tell me, Mr. Gardiner,” said Bingley, “what line of business are you in?”
“I am an importer, Mr. Bingley,” said Gardiner. “Most of my goods come from the East Indies and China, but I import from the continent, the New World, and even certain places in Africa.”
“That must be lucrative,” said Hurst. “Goods from the Orient are scarce—certain exotic wares must fetch a high price.”
“Yes, that is true,” agreed Gardiner. “The goods themselves are not inexpensive, but the margin is sufficient to produce a good profit.”
For some time, they spoke of business, investments, and other such subjects of interest to them.
Bingley spoke of his family business, the one his sisters so assiduously strove to forget, but which funded their current lifestyle.
Darcy recovered from his introspection after a time, contributing to the conversation and showing that his family had not neglected such matters.
Given the conservatism of Darcy’s family, Gardiner might have expected them to cling to land as the only means of gaining wealth in a changing world.
“Tell me, Mr. Gardiner,” said Mr. Bingley, “I have heard little of your family in Hertfordshire. May I suppose they are all well?”
“All perfectly well so far as I am aware,” replied Gardiner. “My children are staying at Longbourn in the care of my nieces.”
Gardiner offered him a grin. “Though my sister doted on her children and enjoys visits with mine, she prefers the visits to be short.”
Bingley was quick to ask the question Gardiner knew was near to his heart. “Then Miss Bennet watches them along with her sisters?”
“Aye, Jane takes the lead as the eldest,” agreed Gardiner. “She is patient, kind, and cares for them as well as anyone could hope.” Gardiner paused, then added: “One day, we are certain she will make an excellent mother.”
The comment had the intended effect, as Bingley’s gaze grew distant. He recovered long before Gardiner had thought he would.
“Miss Bennet has many fine qualities—of this I am not unaware.”
Bingley floundered for a moment, wishing to ask after Jane but uncertain how to do it. Then he appeared to gather his resolve.
“Tell me, Mr. Gardiner—may I assume that all your nieces are yet unattached?”
Gardiner made a great show of pondering the question, his eyes finding Darcy. “Of any particular attachment I know nothing, though one of them appears to have an admirer.”
Darcy’s gaze sharpened, and though he said nothing, Gardiner knew he had received the thrust of his comment. Bingley appeared distinctly uneasy. Gardiner took pity on him.
“If you ask about Jane, there is nothing to report. Earlier in the year, I knew her circumstances well, and there were no callers. Since she has returned to Longbourn, I must assume nothing has changed—my sister has often spoken of the dearth of eligible gentlemen in the neighborhood.”
The comment was deliberate. Gardiner wanted to see whether Bingley would connect it to Jane’s earlier presence in London, of which he was now convinced the man knew nothing. As Bingley did not mention it, Gardiner knew the significance had escaped him.
“When do you return?” asked Bingley.
“We are to stay a few more days at Lambton,” replied Gardiner. “Our original plan was to go as far as the lakes, but as the time drew near, I discovered that my business would not permit so long an absence.”
“So you contented yourself with Derbyshire,” said Darcy, a hint of a smile playing about the corners of his mouth.
“That we did, indeed,” replied Gardiner. “If you ask my wife, Derbyshire is far more welcome to her than the lakes could ever be.”
“Given some of her comments, I am not surprised.”
“Then I hope you will take my compliments back to your family,” said Bingley.
The man appeared abashed, uncertain what to say. Then he showed a measure of pluck.
“I have been absent for some time, but I enjoyed my stay in the neighborhood. Perhaps when we return south in the autumn, I shall visit Netherfield again.”
“If you do,” said Gardiner, esteeming this uncertain young man, “you will find a hearty welcome at Longbourn.”
Bingley grinned and thanked him, and they turned back to their business as a fish jerked Hurst’s line.
Gardiner noted Darcy watching Bingley. When their eyes met, Darcy gave him a slight nod.
As Gardiner had some suspicions about Darcy and a few more about Bingley, he was satisfied with his work.
He had no notion how Lizzy and Madeleine were getting on with Miss Bingley, but he suspected the days of Bingley listening to his sister were at an end.
If the man showed sufficient fortitude, he thought Jane would be a fortunate woman.
If he did not, then Jane was better off without him.
Either way, Gardiner knew better than to interfere.