When they arrived home, her uncle frowned deeply to see that smoke was still billowing up from the neighbour’s chimney, making them choke and gasp as they hurried into the house. “I shall have something to say to him about such folly, mark my words!” Mr Gardiner said with a shake of his head.
Mrs Gardiner met them at the door in the foyer. “What is this?”
“Never mind,” Mr Gardiner said as he ordered the door quickly shut. “We have had a very interesting afternoon, have not we, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth smiled and set down her two remaining copies ofThe Castle of Skybree. She took off her bonnet, pelisse, and gloves, then turned to give her aunt one of the precious copies. “We have indeed.”
“Well, come into the parlour and tell me what you have been up to. I did not think you would be gone for so long!” Mrs Gardiner ordered tea to be brought in for her and the children, and they all sat around the hearth to warm themselves. Elizabeth raised her hands toward the blazing fire to warm her fingertips, seeing again the smudges on her fingers. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to calm her frayed nerves. She ought not to let herself be so unnerved simply by going out. Was she slowly turning into a hermit?
“We conversed with a very pleasant young woman today while we were enjoying some refreshments at a teahouse after picking up the copies from Mr Tilney.”
“Oh? And do we know this person?” her aunt asked.
“No, I’d never seen her in my life,” Elizabeth replied. “Miss Darcy is her name. Apparently, she had been searching the city for a copy of my book and could not find it anywhere. She introduced herself so she could ask where I had purchased these.” Elizabeth held out the two remaining books. “Here is your copy, by the by.” She handed over the volume, and her aunt took it gratefully.
“Thank you, my dear. I cannot wait to retire this evening so I can start it.” She frowned after placing the volume in her lap. “But I thought that you had set aside three copies for yourself. I see only one more here.”
“There were three, to be sure — one for you, one for Jane, and one for Charlotte. But the last is with the young woman I mentioned to you before.” Elizabeth smiled at the thought of Miss Darcy, looking so nervous and discouraged when she had come to the table. How brightly she had smiled upon being told that she might borrow a copy! “I told her that these were given to me as a gift by the publisher, who is a recent acquaintance.”
“You lied?” her aunt asked with a slight frown.
Elizabeth sighed. “I know, Aunt. I do not care for it either, but I am afraid it was a necessity. Besides, I have told much bigger lies — the fact that I write under a false name being chief among them.”
“That is not a lie, Lizzy. Many people write under a pseudonym to keep their anonymity intact. But to lie outright to the young lady? Do you think it wise?”
“As I could hardly tell her the truth, I believe it was necessary. Whether or not it was wise, it is done. At least Charlotte will not mind waiting a little for her copy. She has a son to care for, so I doubt she will have ample time for reading,at least for the time being. I told Miss Darcy that I could give her one copy on loan, provided that she promise to return it as soon as she can finish the book.”
“Well, I think it very kind of you to loan your book to a stranger.”
Elizabeth nodded. “She looked so very sad I could not bear to watch her go away with nothing.”
“One has to keep one’s devotees happy,” Mr Gardiner smiled. “Can you believe that you have already sold out of one thousand copies? It is a staggering number, and for people still to be thronging to get it?” He shook his head and then took Mrs Gardiner’s hand. “We are very proud of you, Lizzy.”
She blushed under her praise. “Thank you. I can only hope that I would have made Papa proud.”
“He would have been delighted, my dear.”
“Do you really think so?” Elizabeth asked. She had wondered about that ever since she had decided to write her first novel. In the back of her mind, there was always the thought that her father would be rolling in his grave at her becoming a working woman, and to write scandalous Gothic novels at that. But when he had passed so suddenly, and Mr Collins had asked them to vacate the property, she could think of nothing else to do. Had she become a governess or companion, she could have provided for herself — but not for her family. Thankfully, they had many friends in Meryton, and her uncles had joined together in paying the rent on their little cottage those first few months.
Still, Elizabeth’s doubts persisted. “Sometimes, I wonder if I am disgracing the family,” Elizabeth said at last, her voice low.
Mrs Gardiner left her husband’s side and came to sit beside Elizabeth. “Dearest Lizzy, I do not think your father would believe anything of the kind.”
“Your Uncle Philips and I could not have kept your mother and sisters in anything like their present comfort without the funds you provide, Lizzy. What you are doing is anything but shameful,” her uncle added.
“Yes, I suppose.”
“Now, I will hear no more of this kind of talk!” Mrs Gardiner said. She stood, clutching the book to her breast. “I do not think I can wait any longer. Would you mind very much if I started reading now, my love?” she asked her husband. “I believe Mary needs to practice the pianoforte. Perhaps I will sit over in the corner near the instrument and help her along, if it is needed. The rest of the children seem content enough.”
Mr Gardiner gave a wry smile. “Go, my dear. Lizzy and I will keep our eyes on the rest of the children while you read.”
It was very flattering that her aunt could not wait a moment longer to start reading her latest literary endeavour. And as Elizabeth sat with her uncle, chatting and playing with the children, she spared a thought for another of Mrs Laurence’s devotees. Was Miss Darcy enjoying her book at that very moment?
Chapter 6
Looking at the distressingly high stack of his correspondence, Darcy suppressed a sigh. Though he would not have traded it for anything, caring for the people and lands of Pemberley as they deserved was a never-ending task, with a never-ending supply of letters to match.
The drawing room was sometimes a welcome change from writing in his study. With the writing desk facing the window so he might look outside, he could more easily get through all the letters he needed to write. Though the tiny garden of his London townhouse could not compare to the vast open spaces of Pemberley, its peaceful scenery always gave him motivation for the long task of business correspondence. And of course, having Georgiana nearby helped as well. She had barely left her preferred spot on the settee near the fireplace for the last week. Even her practice on the pianoforte had suffered, for every spare moment had been spent devouringThe Castle of Skybree.
