Chapter Thirteen
Jane and Aunt Madeline were still discussing the previous night’s theatrical performance, their voices animated as they debated the merits of Mr. Kean’s portrayal of Richard III, when Lambert appeared at the parlour door.
The butler bore a calling card upon a small silver tray, which he presented to the lady of the house with practiced deference.
After examining the cream-coloured card with its elegant black script, Aunt Madeline’s eyebrows rose perceptively.
She cast a meaningful glance towards Jane before instructing, “You may show the gentleman in, and kindly ask Mrs. Seggie to prepare additional refreshments, perhaps those delicate almond biscuits she made yesterday and the Darjeeling.”
The ladies had barely exchanged glances, when Lambert returned.
“Mr. Darcy,” he announced, his voice resonating in the modest but well-appointed parlour.
Both women rose gracefully, exchanging courteous greetings with their visitor, who stood tall and imposing in his impeccably tailored dark coat.
Jane’s mind raced beneath her composed exterior.
What business could bring Mr. Darcy to Cheapside, a district he and his Netherfield companions had previously regarded with such disdain?
Her thoughts immediately turned to Elizabeth, who had mentioned an unexpected encounter with Mr. Darcy in her latest letter from Kent, the pages still folded in Jane’s writing desk.
A flutter of anxiety seized her heart, causing her breath to catch. Has something happened to Lizzy?
Darcy stood stiff and awkward at the front of the room.
His visit was unexpected and, given his previous behaviour in Meryton, possibly not welcome.
Unsure of how to begin a conversation, he was relieved when Miss Bennet, or rather, Lady Jane initiated the polite back and forth of impersonal conversation.
“I am pleased to see you again, Mr. Darcy,” she said, and gestured towards the older lady standing to her right. “May I present my aunt, Mrs. Edward Gardiner. Aunt Gardiner, this is Mr. Darcy, of Pemberley.”
He was surprised she presented her aunt first and thought the former Miss Bennet was unaware of societal protocol. For the sake of Elizabeth, he would pay it no mind and adhere to his original plan of warning Lady Jane of Bingley’s “goals and dreams.”
“I am aware of who Mr. Darcy is, as I hail from Lambton,” her aunt replied, surprising Darcy into a genuine smile.
“Lambton! I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Gardiner. Pray, tell me, what was your family’s name? I am interested to know if we have anyone in common.”
He was diverted by the mysterious smile his hostess gave him, until she revealed her family name. “I was known as Madeline Cavendish before I married my husband.”
Immediately, everything fell into place.
He recalled how his cousin, Viscount Ashton, had informed them, that night at the theatre, that Miss Bingley had insulted a niece of the Cavendish family.
Now that he was aware Mrs. Gardiner, née Cavendish, was related to the Bennet sisters, it made sense.
It also made his previous comments of Elizabeth and Jane lacking connections even more outrageous.
“May I ask what brings you to my uncle’s house?” Lady Jane enquired, interrupting his thoughts. “Has something happened to Lizzy?”
“Lady Elizabeth was hale and hearty when I last saw her prior to my departure from Kent.” He noted the widening of Lady Jane’s eyes at him calling Elizabeth by her honorific title.
“Pray excuse my abruptness, but I did not seek an audience with you to exchange pleasantries, at least not at this moment, but have come regarding Mr. Bingley.”
Her posture stiffened before relaxing into the composed demeanour he had often observed in Hertfordshire.
“Your sister informed me of your attachment to him, and your belief that such feelings were reciprocated.” Darcy cleared his throat. “I cannot in good conscience allow you to mourn the loss of a gentleman who does not merit such devotion.”
“Does not merit?” she echoed.
“I have learned that Mr. Bingley has squandered much of their inheritance, resulting in a drastic reduction of his fortune. He requires a bride of considerable means to restore his finances. Despite his admiration for you, marriage was never his intention, at least not with the former Miss Jane Bennet. He is unaware of your family’s recent elevation. ”
“You have my gratitude for speaking plainly.”
“I value your kind words, though I must confess the full truth.” A warmth crept up Darcy’s neck to his cheeks.
“I interfered, believing your affections were mild. Whether I judged correctly or not, I overstepped. However, my remorse lessened as I came to understand my friend’s true character.
Only then could I find some solace in my interference. ”
“Mr. Darcy, I bear you no ill will. You acted to protect your friend. Given how it turned out, we now know for certain our Lord has a sense of humour.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“We are told to trust in Him, and He will direct our path. My path diverged from Mr. Bingley’s for reasons once obscured by my own naiveté and confusion, but now, my route is lit by the light of a thousand torches. I am being shown, quite clearly, where I am meant to tread.”
“You possess a remarkable spirit, Lady Jane. I would count myself fortunate to call you a friend.”
“Consider it done, sir.”
Though Lady Jane’s countenance remained serene, her renewed scrutiny was evident. The delicate clink of porcelain as she placed her teacup against its saucer, and the deliberate folding of her hands in her lap, heralded an uncomfortable interrogation.
“I hope you will pardon my directness,” she began, her voice soft yet unyielding, “but I must enquire as to your intentions regarding my sister. Whilst I appreciate you warning me about Mr. Bingley, your own behaviour during your stay in Hertfordshire left little doubt that you found both our community and family wanting, specifically Lizzy who, by your initial estimation, was barely tolerable.”
His composure faltered beneath her unexpected challenge. This was not the perpetually smiling, placid Jane Bennet he had observed from afar, but rather a formidable guardian of her sister’s happiness.
“Your assessment is just,” he admitted. “My conduct was inexcusable. Mr. Hurst and I have since acknowledged our failings as gentlemen during our sojourn in Hertfordshire. In light of this epiphany, I wrote to your father, expressing my profound regret to both him and Lady Elizabeth. I must stress; this was prior to me learning of your father’s new rank.
She and I have since conversed at length in Kent, reconciled our misunderstandings, and she has accepted my request to call on her when she returns to London. ”
“She is amenable to you calling on her?”
“My letter of apology smoothed the edges of her anger, allowing for a most cordial reunion when I arrived at my aunt’s estate in Kent.”
“She has written of your daily walks and conversations. I had hoped the two of you would find a friendship; few gentlemen can keep up with her lively conversations.”
“I believe she calls our exchanges spirited disagreements, not conversations,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “She has a decided opinion on a vast array of topics.”
A melodious laugh escaped Lady Jane.
“The breadth of her reading astonishes me. I cannot fathom how she retains it all.”
“The mind is not unlike a muscle; it strengthens with use. As with any skill, diligence yields mastery.”
The butler entered the room and, leaning down, spoke quietly into Mrs. Gardiner’s ear. Her eyes lit up and she said, with a smile, “You may tell him that my niece and I are at home for his visit.”
Darcy immediately noticed the delicate flush that rose on Lady Jane’s face, her eyes lowering and a small, tremulous smile tilted her lips in a pleasing manner. It seemed the lady favoured this unknown gentleman caller. His surprise was great when Joshua Morgan stepped into the room.
“Morgan!” Darcy declared, a large smile threatening to split his face in two. “I have not seen you since Cambridge.”
He stood and approached Morgan, hand outstretched.
“Darcy, you still look like a cantankerous old curmudgeon.” The men shook hands, then Darcy resumed his seat.
After greeting both ladies with perfect politeness, Morgan sat down next to Lady Jane.
“But you, my lady, look exceptionally well,” he said, then turned his attention to her aunt.
“My sister Gabriella sends her regrets. She had a scheduled fitting with the dressmaker and dared not put it off. With the season in full swing, appointments are as rare as perfect rubies these days.”
“Indeed, they are. Thankfully, Madame étienne was able to fill our orders before the mad rush.” Mrs. Gardiner turned her focus back to Darcy. “I gather, by your greeting, that you and Mr. Morgan have known each other for some time.”
“We, as in Hurst, Morgan, and I, attended Eton and Cambridge together.”
“You and Hurst were as thick as thieves,” Morgan said. “I was just a tag-along.”
“I beg to differ. You were a valued friend. It saddened me when all contact was lost when your father died.”
“That was a difficult year,” Morgan said, his expression showing that he still held sorrow over the event. “Mother was beside herself with grief. Losing both Father and Jacob nearly broke her spirit.”
“Yet, you still found time to write to me when my own good father died.”
“How could I not? You were facing a similar situation, having a younger sister to guide and care for, along with a substantial estate. You needed to know there was light at the end of your dark tunnel.”
“Your encouragement was appreciated, but… enough of this maudlin talk, the ladies have better things to do than listen to us reminisce about our ill spent youth.”
Morgan gave him a crooked smile, then turned to Lady Jane.