18. The Wisdom of Cheapside
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE WISDOM OF CHEAPSIDE
The Gardiner children met them at the door as though Elizabeth, Jane, and Mary had arrived bearing treasure instead of a terrier and a basket of shortbread from Lady Sophia’s cook.
Samuel seized the basket with both hands and ran for the kitchen.
Rose took Nettle by the collar and ran for the garden.
Alice, who was eight and operated above such frenzies, waited in the hallway and offered Mary her hand instead of a curtsy.
“I have been practicing my perspective drawings,” she informed Mary. “I drew the piano from four angles.”
“Which angle is best?”
“The one from underneath. Nobody draws pianos from underneath.”
“That is because nobody lies on the floor beneath a piano.”
“I do,” Alice said, leading Mary toward the parlor.
Elizabeth was glad of it, exchanging a glance with Jane, who had spent the days since the promenade avoiding company by claiming a headache.
Bingley had been turned away, and Elizabeth could not imagine what, if anything, was going on.
Darcy was supposed to speak to Bingley, but he had also promised not to persuade, and he seemed to be keeping his distance.
So much for her triumphant London debut. She’d managed to turn it into a muddle worthy of Meryton in less than two months.
Two-year-old Thomas was glad for Jane’s attention, and he greeted her with grubby hands around her skirts, lifting them to examine her shoes. Jane picked him up with the familiarity of having spent the winter in London with them, her face relaxing as she buried her nose in the boy’s hair.
“Come,” Mrs. Gardiner said, appearing from the kitchen with flour on her wrists. “Come in, all of you, and tell me everything, and I mean everything, Lizzy, not the curated version you have been putting in your letters, which were charming and told me absolutely nothing.”
The drawing room was cluttered with more furniture than space, and wooden blocks littered the rug. Aunt Gardiner moved aside a pile of books, making room for them, and Elizabeth felt the weight of Mayfair fall away as she sank onto a too-soft sofa.
The room welcomed them with the rich, honest scent of sugar and citrus rising from the kitchen, mingled with toasted bohea and the comforting musk of old books.
Jane sat with Thomas on her lap, playing patty-cake, and Mary was ensconced with Alice in front of the writing desk, where a half-mended basket held pencils and charcoal.
“I hardly know where to begin,” Elizabeth said, accepting tea in a sturdy English teacup.
“The Season is a spectacle, both absurd and magnificent. I am exhausted, but enjoying every minute. Did I tell you we have a new friend, Miss Allegra Courtenay? And the promenade on Sunday was bustling. I can barely catch my breath. We got new dresses, Mary played at a musicale, and there’s a grand ball coming up at the Harewoods. ”
“It sounds exhausting just hearing you describe it,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “Tell me about the gentlemen callers. I hear you are quite an item.”
“More like a spectacle.” She traded glances with Jane.
“I do believe half of the callers only wish to gawk at the unknown country girl whom Lady Sophia Mottistone chose for what everyone believes are mysterious and therefore, scandalous reasons. Lady Sophia is not saying, except she has a network of correspondents in Hertfordshire who have apparently provided her with my character references.”
“I take it she is delighted with you.” Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “And is she introducing you to all manner of gentlemen? Being that she’s your sponsor for the Season?”
“She has assigned her godson, Mr. Darcy, to be her deputy as well as my trustee.” Elizabeth felt a strange twist in her stomach at the admission. Fortunately, the maid set down the lemon cakes, providing a necessary distraction.
“And how are you faring, dear Jane?” Mrs. Gardiner asked when they had all taken a bite of the cakes.
“I am delighted to share my sister’s good fortune,” Jane admitted. “She has bought us dresses, taken us to Gerrards for ices, and we spend time with Miss Allegra as well as take calls from Lady Sophia’s friends.”
“Who are mostly fortune-hunting mothers,” Mary said with an uncharacteristic spark. “Even Lady Lucas from Hertfordshire. She came to Grosvenor Street yesterday and spent the entire visit pushing John at Elizabeth.”
“John Lucas?” Mrs. Gardiner looked between them. “Charlotte’s brother?”
“The same,” Mary said. “He was quite embarrassed on his mother’s behalf, and has not a mercenary bone in his body.
He was so mortified with his mother parading him through Lizzy’s drawing room and proclaiming him the heir of Lucas Lodge, as if Sir William had already gone to the worms. It was quite humiliating for him. ”
Elizabeth eyed Mary, noting the suspicious flush on her cheeks.
“He escaped the drawing room,” Elizabeth added, “and found Mary and Georgiana at the piano. And he turned pages for the rest of Lady Lucas’s visit.”
Alice looked up from her watercolors. “Did he turn the pages at the right time?”
“Perfectly,” Mary said, and that one word held a weight that was apparent to every lady in the room.
“Well, I am pleased that London has not gotten its claws into you the way its stratified society might affect some debutantes.” Mrs. Gardiner said with some relief. “You girls are clearly taking the best parts of being in town along with your good fortune.”
“Has my mother written to you of her plans?” Elizabeth ventured, wondering whether her mother planned to stay with the Gardiners, as she used to whenever she visited London.
“No, she has not.” Aunt Gardiner’s brows creased with concern. “Have you news from Longbourn?”
“Only from Lady Lucas,” Elizabeth explained.
“My father has not written, and I believe Mamma was too angry to write. But Lady Lucas says Mamma has been buying lottery tickets, which Papa entirely disapproves of but cannot prevent. She told everyone in Meryton that she intends to come to London with or without his permission.”
“Oh, my.” Mrs. Gardiner paused with the cake server in her hand, her expression turning grave. “That sounds like your mother when she has a bee in her bonnet. Did she give a reason?”
“Yes, she insists her eldest daughters require a mother’s guidance to navigate the Season, and she will come as soon as she has won enough money.”
Mrs. Gardiner set the silver server down.
“An uninvited descent upon Mayfair. Oh, Lizzy, she does not understand the ton . If she arrives with the younger girls in tow and begins proclaiming your fortune in every drawing room, the consequences for Jane’s peace and your own position will be… unfortunate.”
Jane kept her eyes fixed resolutely on young Thomas’s curls, but her shoulders tightened noticeably.
“We must fetch your uncle,” Mrs. Gardiner said, ringing for the maid. “He received a note from your trustee, the man Darcy, that you are seeking to gift Consols to your mother and sisters, enough to either fund their living or spend on extravagant trips.”
Jane and Mary both gaped at Elizabeth, cheeks flushing.
“Lizzy, you do not need—” Jane began. “I cannot?—”
Mary shook her head. “The fortune is yours. It is enough that you bought dresses for us and invited us to your house.”
“Did you two really believe I would take an income of fifteen thousand a year and not ensure your safety? It won’t be much, as only seven thousand of it is in safe Consols. But?—”
She was interrupted by her uncle, who arrived with ink on his fingers and his shirt sleeves rolled up. He settled into his chair beside the fire.
“Dear Lizzy, your man, Darcy, has notified my solicitor, who is arranging the transfers,” he said. “But Darcy also mentioned the risk to your estate. The Consol income offers the only security you have.”
“He expressed his concerns, yes,” Elizabeth said, proud of her steady voice. “But as a trustee, he has to do what I order him to do. My sisters and mother get a thousand per annum each, and since the Bank of England requires a male agent, I should like you to serve in that capacity, Uncle.”
“Five thousand a year passing through my hands on behalf of your mother and sisters?” His face blanched as he cast a glance at his wife.
“Quarterly distributions. Structured so the principal cannot be touched. The income arrives in manageable portions through a channel that cannot be accelerated by persuasion, tears, or appeals to nerves.”
“You are describing the management of my sister.”
“Exactly. I will not leave my mother or sisters at the mercy of Mr. Collins’s charity. But neither will I give Mamma unrestricted access to a sum she would exhaust before Midsummer.”
Jane leaned forward. “Lizzy, I wish you to know that I do not take this lightly. What you have done for us.”
“Nor I,” Mary said from the small table, without looking up from Alice’s watercolors. “I intend to spend my income wisely and save most of it for a rainy day.”
“I accept, Lizzy, and I am honored.” Mr. Gardiner said. “I will review the instruments with the solicitor this week. Now, are there any other concerns than your mother spending the entire sum?”
“There is the matter of fortune hunters.” Elizabeth’s voice dimmed. “A thousand per annum may not seem enough for the London dandies, but there is a man in Meryton who is a charmer, owes money, and has my parents’ confidence.”
“Indeed!” Mrs. Gardiner set her teacup down. “Has no one notified them of his debts and lack of character?”
Elizabeth shook her head, glancing at Jane, who knew vaguely about Wickham’s debts but not about Georgiana.