Chapter 36
Gardiners’ House
Cheapside
Dinner Time
Darcy's boot heels clicked against the cobbles as he stepped down from the carriage, and he shivered slightly in a gust of wind.
He shifted his cane to his other hand as he turned, reaching up to carefully hand down his sister first and then her companion behind her.
Georgiana drew her pelisse tighter about herself before accepting her brother's proffered arm.
Darcy did not blame her; a frigid chill had set into the air, deepened by a blustery breeze that cut a body straight down to the bones.
The winter sun was entirely blocked by gray clouds, and a few fat flakes of snow swirled frantically through the air.
It was too cold to linger outside, but Darcy eyed the door ahead of them with misgiving as they approached. The time had come for the next step of his wooing of Elizabeth Bennet, and it could not honestly be said that Darcy was excited.
Thus far, he thought that his courtship of the lady had been going well.
He and Miss Elizabeth had spent many happy hours together on the pew of his own parish church, walking around St. Paul’s cathedral, enjoying dinners with the Earl and Countess of Keaton, and spending cozy times in the countess’s blue and green sitting room.
He was confident that Elizabeth was also enjoying their time together too, but of course, if they truly wished to marry, more important topics must be broached and handled.
Elizabeth had brought up just one such subject the previous evening before Darcy had departed, that of her relations in trade.
Her expression had been very grave, and her eyes, usually so sparkling and joyous, dark and serious as spoke to him of the Gardiners.
Her uncle was a tradesman, but that did not impact how much she loved him and his wife.
If Darcy could not or would not accept relations by marriage who were in trade, it was better that they end their courtship now, without further investment of time or effort or affection on either of their parts.
Darcy knew that Miss Elizabeth was the only lady in the world for him. If this meant a family connection to a tradesman and his vulgar wife, so be it. Darcy would accept such a connection for the sake of the woman he loved and prized.
When they had spoken of the matter the previous night, he had collected himself, taken her hand in his own, assured her that anyone dear to her would necessarily be dear to him as well, and that he would be delighted to make the acquaintance of her aunt and uncle.
He was rewarded immediately for his declaration by seeing some of the tension drop from her shoulders and some of the light return to her eyes and had spent the carriage ride home caught between elation at her obvious relief, reckless determination to like her precious aunt and uncle, and apprehension of the scene that would unfold before his eyes when he did at last make their acquaintance.
This morning, a note had arrived before noon inviting the party to dinner in Cheapside that very evening and Darcy had written his acceptance immediately.
He had sent the note off, and spent the remainder of the morning answering letters of business in an attempt to keep his mind off of the upcoming ordeal.
When the time had come, Darcy had dressed carefully, called for the carriage, and collected Georgiana, who insisted upon coming.
Darcy had warned that their host and hostess might be inelegant, but she would not be swayed, insisting that she would need to know them eventually anyway, and he had reluctantly acquiesced to her attendance.
She looked very pretty and refined in a soft wintry blue, and so he had told her.
He had refrained from sharing his expectation that his host and hostess would be wearing bright and gaudy colors and garish patterns.
He had spent the carriage ride to Cheapside bracing himself to not react with visible revulsion or contempt when either of the Gardiners made vulgar remarks or grew too loud for comfort.
Whoever was dear to Elizabeth would be dear to him too, and they must be kindly folk, at least, for her to treasure them so.
At least there would be other friends at the table.
The two eldest Bennet sisters would be dining with them, of course, and the note had said that Charles Bingley, who had spent the day at Keaton House with Jane Bennet, would accompany the Bennet ladies to Gracechurch Street.
At worst, Georgiana could confine herself to speaking with Miss Bennet and Bingley, both of whom she counted as friends, and with Elizabeth, who Georgiana nearly regarded in the light of a sister already.
Darcy would pick up the conversational slack with their hosts, and he was certain that he could depend upon Mrs. Annesley for sensible, courteous assistance.
Now, finally standing in front of the Gardiners' house, Darcy took a deep breath, braced himself, grasped the ring hanging from the bronze lion's mouth, and knocked firmly on the door.
They were not kept waiting long; the door swung open before the last echo had died away.
A young maid, ruffled apron and mobcap pristinely white, bid them welcome with a bobbed curtsey, and reached to assist Georgiana with her pelisse as another maid came up to relieve Darcy of hat and cane and greatcoat.
***
Dining Room
Gardiners’ House
Cheapside
Later
The dining room at the Gardiners’ House was not nearly as large as the ones at Longbourn and Keaton House, and it was rather full of Bennet ladies and Gardiners and Darcys, not to mention Mr. Bingley who was, of course, eager to spend every possible moment with his dear Jane.
Darcy was pleased to find himself seated near the end of the table close to his hostess and directly opposite the lady he adored, while Georgiana sat between Kitty and Lydia Bennet, with Lady Bennet and Miss Fairchild across from her.
“It has been many years since I have been in Lambton,” Mrs. Gardiner remarked with a smile. “My dear husband’s business has kept us largely tied to London, but it would be a great pleasure to see it again one day.”
“Is it much like Meryton, Aunt?” Elizabeth asked curiously.
Mrs. Gardiner, who was younger than Darcy had expected, turned a fond look on her second eldest niece and said, “I suppose in many ways it is. I daresay my fondness for the inhabitants may color my memories, but I believe the architecture of the buildings, not to mention the landscapes beyond the town proper, lends it additional charm.”
“Derbyshire is substantially hillier than Hertfordshire, is it not?” Elizabeth asked, turning toward her suitor.
“It is,” Darcy agreed. “Indeed, the Pennines run through part of the county and are majestic and marvelous.”
“I would like to see them someday,” Elizabeth said wistfully, and Darcy could not help but grin at her. She flushed at his significant smile, but she smiled back and said, “Perhaps I will see them someday.”
“Perhaps you will,” he agreed, just as Mrs. Gardiner rose from her chair to signal that it was time for the ladies to leave the gentlemen to their port.
Within a minute, the crowd of women had left the room, leaving Mr. Gardiner, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Darcy alone.
Thus far, Darcy had been greatly impressed by his host and hostess, who did not seem to have a vulgar bone in their bodies.
Moreover, Georgiana had appeared entirely at ease throughout the dinner.
“Would you care for some port, Mr. Darcy?” Mr. Gardiner asked, lifting a bottle of wine.
“Yes, please,” Darcy said, and the master of the house promptly rose to his feet and brought the bottle over to pour it for his most distinguished guest. Darcy nodded his thanks, took a sip, and found himself surprised. The port was truly excellent.
“This is very good, Gardiner,” Bingley remarked, echoing his thoughts, Gardiner smiled and said, “Thank you. I have a friend with a palate far better than my own, who put me in the way of purchasing it.”
“Mr. Chawton, perhaps?” the youngest man asked, lifting an eyebrow.
Gardiner laughed and shook his head. “No, Chawton, while he has many areas of expertise, is not greatly interested in alcoholic beverages.”
He now turned to Darcy and explained, “My friend Chawton is one of the wealthiest men in the City and has a passion for gas lights and plumbing. He is an interesting man, if somewhat eccentric in his pastimes.”
“I do not pretend to be particularly clever,” Bingley said, “but I have found myself pondering gas lights in houses. Would it not be far easier to manage than with candles? It seems as if the servants are always scraping candles out of their holders, and wax candles are dreadfully dear.”
“It is an interesting point, but safety would obviously be a concern,” Gardiner responded, turning a thoughtful look the candelabra whose candles were burning brightly in the middle of the table.
Darcy had already noted that the candles were wax instead of tallow, which meant that either Gardiner was a spendthrift or he was actually wealthy.
Given Elizabeth’s admiration of the tradesman, it seemed almost certain the latter was true.
“One would not want a runaway fire, especially in Town.”
“Candles can be dangerous as well,” Bingley said, “but I quite take your point.”
“I daresay the day will come when we have gas lighting in houses,” Gardiner replied. “Certainly Mr. Winsor believes so. He is a German inventor of some renown who was responsible for lighting one side of Pall Mall with gas lamps a few years ago. And the man has a rather fascinating story...”
The ensuing discussion was intellectually stimulating, and Darcy, in the midst of a truly engaging discussion of coal mining, found himself noting that Mr. Gardiner was not only intelligent, but well-read and well-mannered. It was no wonder Elizabeth loved the man so much!
It was, therefore, a severe and disappointing shock to the system when fifteen minutes into their conversation, a very loud, very familiar, and very unwanted voice impinged upon his ears from outside the dining room.
“Which one of you is Elizabeth Bennet?” the female voice roared. “I demand to know!”