Chapter Ten #3
“Certainly, I will,” Mrs. Cooper said, whipping a muslin-lined tin box from beneath the table. A pile of various bookmarks filled the box. “We make ‘em nice and thin, we do, so the book isn’t damaged.”
“May I?” Georgiana asked, reaching for the top one.
“‘Course y’can,” Mrs. Cooper said, lifting out the bookmark and placing it across Georgiana’s gloved hand.
It had a thin strip of white lace around the outside of a pink linen rectangle.
The word “faith” had been embroidered down the center.
“Each one has the same lace, but there are different colors and sayings.”
Darcy saw that the new top bookmark had a linen rectangle of soft-blue, and “hope” embroidered on it.
Mrs. Cooper spread out a large linen square, and then arranged the bookmarks upon it so they could view them easily.
Georgiana set down the pink one and read all the mottos arrayed before her.
After only a moment, she pointed to the one that read “hope”.
“That one, please,” she said to Mrs. Cooper.
“Excellent choice, miss,” she said, gently folding it within a piece of plain ecru muslin. She fastened it closed with a ribbon. “Now, what would y’like t’see fer yer other friend, miss?”
Georgiana accepted the package, put it in her basket, and then chewed on her bottom lip. Looking up at her brother, she said, “I wonder if lace is right for Lizzy? Do you think I should look for something animal related?”
Darcy’s brow furrowed. “I imagine it might be nice for her to receive a gift that is for her, alone.”
“Yes, I see,” Georgiana murmured. She looked at Mrs. Cooper’s eager expression.
“Could you show me some cuffs, please?” While the lady uncovered her cuffs, carefully covering up her other articles, his sister explained her thinking to Darcy.
“Even though Lizzy will have to attach the cuffs herself, she will be able to choose which gown they will look best with.”
“Very sensible,” he said, taking out his wallet in preparation for purchasing the items.
They bought a lovely pair of white ruffled cuffs from Mrs. Cooper, who beamed and curtsied again as they left. Georgiana carefully placed them in her basket and latched the lid shut, having no desire to have her purchases pinched.
“Will you kindly take the cost of my gifts out of my next allowance?” Georgiana asked, gazing up at him with a determined lift to her chin.
Darcy smiled. “As you wish.”
“Thank you, Fitz,” she said, squeezing his arm. “You are the best brother in the world.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Shall we continue and see what else is on offer?”
“Yes, please.”
They walked along, weaving their way through the other shoppers, pausing to look over the wares in the leather-worker’s stall, and the tin wares in the tin-worker’s stall. Darcy picked up a plain, handled tin cup and examined it. He looked at the maker. “How much for one?”
The grizzled, tanned man pointed at the simple mug. “That there’s a ha’pint, sir. So, I’ll take a thrupenny bit fer it.”
“Three pence,” Darcy murmured.
“Why does this interest you, brother?” Georgiana asked. “Do you have a need for a tin mug?”
“Not I, no,” Darcy said. He fished around in his waistcoat pocket and brought out three pennies. He passed them across to the maker.
“Ta,” the man said, putting the pennies into a box.
“Did you make the mug yourself?” Darcy asked.
“I did, sir.”
Darcy took out one of his cards and passed it over. “Can you write your direction on this?”
The man produced a pencil and wrote his direction in barely legible letters. He handed it over. “That’s me name—John Munk—from Longbourn Village, sir. Ask at The Holly Bush Inn—anyone can direct ye t’me place.”
“Very good. Thank you.” Darcy turned and slipped the mug and card into Georgiana’s basket. He took her elbow and led her along the aisle.
“Who is the mug for, Fitz?” Georgiana asked.
“It is for the Bennet’s cook,” he explained, grinning at her raised eyebrows.
“The cook?”
“Miss Elizabeth told me their cook is writing a cookery book,” he revealed. “The trouble is, everyone uses their own cups and spoons for measuring, so how can she standardize her measurements?”
“Ah,” Georgiana said, enlightenment shining in her eyes. “If everyone had the same cup, then the recipes would work for them.”
“You are a clever girl,” Darcy praised. “I suggested as much to Miss Elizabeth. A cup similar to this one could be a bonus gift that comes with the purchase of the book.”
“So many books are borrowed from circulating libraries, though,” Georgiana reminded him.
“The library could have the mug on display so members might compare their cups with the tin mug,” Darcy pointed out.
“Did Lizzy like the idea?”
“She said she would suggest it to their cook, but I do not know the results of their discussion.”
“You can ask her during your drive,” Georgiana said. She lifted the basket a little. “And, you can give her your gift.”
Darcy blinked. He had not thought of the mug as a gift. “Should I buy a square of fabric to wrap it in?” Then, he said, “Unnecessary, I think.”
Georgiana twinkled up at him. “Perhaps.” She pointed her nose ahead. “Look there, a stall selling wooden boxes. One could hold the mug.”
They stopped at the stall and compared the mug to several simple boxes with hinged lids. Darcy chose one, paid for it, and put the mug and card inside it. He held it under his arm.
“We should have brought a footman,” Darcy muttered. At Georgiana’s giggle, he said, “I will tell Miss Elizabeth the mug and box is a gift for her cook.”
Georgiana gave a delicate snort. “If you must.”
“I told you, it is not a gift for Miss Elizabeth.”
“So you keep saying. But, remembering what she told you about her cook is a gift in and of itself.”
I suppose she is right, in a way. But I will not tell her so. Oh, no. If I do, I will never hear the end of it.