“How can you be certain these people spoke the truth?”
A slight smile softened Mr. Notley’s expression. “In some instances, they did not. I cannot reveal our methods, but we verify the testimony we receive in multiple ways. In rare instances, we have obtained enough conflicting information to prevent our reaching a conclusion, but not in this situation.”
“Based on your findings, what sort of man is Mr. Gardiner?”
“He has built a reputation as an astute and honest man of business. He and his wife have a wide circle of friends and are well regarded. A few people we queried provided adverse opinions of Mr. Gardiner, and we found each of those grumblers to be less than credible.”
Mr. Notley removed a sheet from his stack of papers and read aloud the details of Mr. Edward Gardiner’s early life, including his childhood inMeryton and education at Eton and Cambridge. The investigator went on to mention the tragic deaths of Mr. Gardiner’s two sisters, brother-in-law, and niece from influenza in 1794, his apprenticeship with Mr. Pembroke, a successful importer in London, who retired and left the business to him, and Mr. Gardiner’s marriage to Miss Modesty Fletcher with whom he had four children.
After a pause, he looked up at me. “Mrs. Gardiner is the daughter of a country attorney from Lambton.”
Lambton?“That is interesting—my estate in Derbyshire is but five miles from Lambton.”
“Yes, I am aware of that.” Mr. Notley glanced at his notes. “Are you acquainted with the former Miss Fletcher? She moved with her family to London twelve years ago when her father retired. She is now two-and-thirty.”
“No, I have never met her.” Yet an image of her father, Mr. Fletcher, came to me—a short, soft-spoken, and kind man.
Mr. Notley exchanged the paper in his hand for another. “Over the years, Mr. Gardiner has expanded his business. Five years ago, he moved Pembroke Imports from a small building to a sizeable warehouse. Later that same year, he purchased a house on Gracechurch Street where he resides with his family. If his business continues its current pattern of success, Mr. Gardiner will accumulate enough wealth to acquire a small estate within the next year or two.” He shuffled through the papers, selected three sheets, and gave them to me. “This is your copy of the report.”
I gave each sheet a cursory glance and set them on the table. “I cannot imagine why Mr. Barton would disparage Mr. Gardiner without just cause.”
Mr. Notley raised his glass and imbibed the remainder of the liquor. “Maybe Mr. Barton is the one involved in a criminal undertaking. In my experience, those who are guilty of an offence are prone to accusing others of a similar activity.”
“No, that is a dubious theory. Mr. Barton is a well-known and respected gentleman.” Yet an uncomfortable thickness hampered my throat. The meresuggestion of Elizabeth in the care of a dishonest man disturbed my equilibrium. “Nevertheless, when you resume the investigation of Mrs. Cooper’s murder, I should appreciate being notified if you discover anything of concern with regard to Mr. Barton, or Mr. Rowe for that matter.”
“Very well.”
After Mr. Notley left, I refilled my glass with a generous portion of brandy and settled on the sofa in a semi-reclined position. It seemed I had no other course but to seek out Mr. Gardiner and obtain his explanation for this estrangement from Elizabeth and the Bartons. Due to Hayward’s prior acquaintance with Mr. Gardiner, I should ask my friend to accompany me to the man’s house.
Thursday, 10 October
Gracechurch Street, London
Darcy
Hayward followed me out of the coach and stared at the elegant façade before us. “The neighbourhood may not be fashionable, but this house is comparable to the smaller residences at the north end of Park Lane.”
“Yes, I agree.”
On the way to Tattersall’s that morning, I had confided my intentions for Elizabeth to Hayward, which he declared to have suspected. But the information from Mr. Notley’s report astonished my friend, and he readily agreed to accompany me here.
At the auction, Hayward purchased a shiny new phaeton, and I acquired a handsome pair of four-year-old carriage horses to replace two aged steeds who would live out their retirement in a pasture at Pemberley.
We presented our cards to the solemn butler and requested an audience with Mr. Gardiner to discuss a personal matter. After a short wait in the elegantly appointed sitting-room, we followed the staid servant to a sizeable study. Miss Bennet’s uncle stood at medium height with a stout figure,light-brown hair, and a pleasant round face. He made a dapper presentation with his well-tailored and fashionable attire. One could easily mistake him for a member of the gentry.
Mr. Gardiner approached us with his sight settling upon my friend. “Mr. Hayward, it has been many years since we met.” He offered his hand, which Hayward shook. “Do you bring tidings of my niece?” Creases formed around his eyes. “I hope she is well.”
“She is quite well, and our purpose here relates to her.” With a glance at me, Hayward performed the introductions.
Mr. Gardiner greeted me in a rushed manner, then returned his attention to Hayward. “Pray, I must know…is Elizabeth happy?”
My friend smiled. “Yes, I believe so. She is a lovely, cheerful, and gracious lady.”
With a nod, Mr. Gardiner’s shoulders lowered. He indicated two chairs for us and sat behind his desk.
I provided a concise summary of my association with Elizabeth and the Bartons, my intentions for Elizabeth, and my reasons for having hired an investigator.
Mr. Gardiner held a stiff attitude, and his features hardened into a depiction of enmity. “This is most disturbing—both that Mr. Barton has been denigrating my character and that you deemed it necessary to pry into my affairs.”
