Mrs Gardiner sat up straighter in her chair, her countenance a picture of delight. “Rosemary is in Lambton?”
“She returns tomorrow. We were none of us quite certain when you would arrive or how long you meant to stay, but she will be delighted not to have missed you.”
“We mean to stay until the beginning of next week at least.”
“We may be obliged to stay longer now, my dear,” Mr Gardiner said. “For as well as your ever-expanding circle, we must also apparently find time to make the acquaintance of Miss Darcy.”
Mrs Whitaker and her sister both exclaimed at the notion. “Miss Darcy? You jest, surely.”
“No, indeed,” Mrs Gardiner replied. “Mr Darcy asked Lizzy just this afternoon if he might make the introduction.”
“When did you have occasion to speak to Mr Darcy? He hardly ever comes into town.”
“No, we met him at Pemberley.”
“You never mentioned you were Mr Darcy’s guests at Pemberley!” Miss Tanner said reverently.
Mr Gardiner began to chuckle. “We were not, madam. We applied to see it just as we applied to see Blenheim and Chatsworth. We were not there by invitation—though Lizzy does boast a trifling acquaintance with its owner.”
The sisters both looked to Elizabeth for confirmation.
She smiled weakly. “He stayed for a few weeks at a house near my own last autumn. I saw him at a few dances.”
Mr Gardiner explained that they had encountered Mr Darcy on the lawn at Pemberley. “He did us the honour of escorting us around the lake.”
“Faith!” cried Mrs Whitaker. “You must have made quite an impression at those few dances, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth stumbled over a reply and was grateful for her aunt’s determination to have her say in the conversation.
“Lizzy’s cousin is also parson to Mr Darcy’s aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. And you saw him again while you were visiting Mr and Mrs Collins in the spring, did you not, Lizzy?”
“Yes, once or twice.”
Mrs Whitaker was unconvinced. “We are cousins to Mr Darcy’s own parson, but he has never walked either of us around his lake. Has he, Jenny?”
Miss Tanner shook her head. Elizabeth felt the weight of their gazes and, worse, that of her aunt, who was regarding her with new interest.
“He may simply have felt obliged to make the application for the sake of civility,” Mr Gardiner opined. “He offered that I should fish in his lake whenever I desired, too, and I doubt he meant that either. Or at least, he likely forgot it as soon as we were out of sight.”
Elizabeth’s uncle had said something similar earlier in the day, and she had not contradicted him then. She dared not now either for fear of rousing her aunt’s suspicions further, yet she felt for the second time that Mr Gardiner had quite mistaken Mr Darcy’s character. The master of Pemberley might be many things, but impetuous was not one of them—an offer made by him was an offer meant.
“You think it was pride that induced him to be civil?” Mrs Whitaker enquired doubtfully. “I would have thought pride more likely to make him uncivil, and not notice you at all.”
“Is that how he more commonly behaves?” asked Mrs Gardiner. “We had heard reports that he is rather above himself.”
Her friend shrugged. “If he is, I daresay he has a right to be. He moves in far higher circles than we ever will and owns just about everything as far as the eye can see. But I did not mean to accuse him of being ill-mannered—quite the opposite if he singled your party out for attention as you describe.” She cocked the smallest of suggestive nods at Elizabeth. “Do help yourself to more coffee if you would like some, sir.”
Mr Gardiner, who had been peering forlornly between the coffee pot and his cup, thanked her. “We met a few of his servants today,” he said as he poured. “They certainly had not a bad word to say about him. His housekeeper in particular seemed determined that we should think well of him. Went to great lengths to convince us of his affability to the poor. He is evidently a liberal master, and that, no doubt, disposes her to assume he will be equally generous abroad, but these great men all delight in proclaiming charity and very few follow words with deeds.”
“To be fair to the lady, she is best placed to know, for it is her whom Mr Darcy tasks with distributing clothes and food amongst the poor once a quarter. It was his mother’s tradition originally, but he re-established it after his father died.”
“And you know, he endowed the alms-house at Kympton,” Miss Tanner added to her sister’s evident surprise.
“I did not know that! Though I did know he paid for the new schoolhouse in Shepsbrook.”
Mrs Gardiner raised her eyebrows, which saddened Elizabeth to see. Upon leaving Pemberley yesterday, she had related to her aunt and uncle some of the particulars of Mr Darcy’s dealings with Mr Wickham, explaining that the former’s character was by no means so faulty as it had been considered in Hertfordshire. It shamed her to comprehend how injurious her previous censure must have been that Mrs Gardiner should still be surprised by reports of his charity.
For herself, she was disinclined to be shocked. She knew from his letter the care Mr Darcy took of his friends and relations, and from those friends and relations themselves in what esteem he was held by them. She had no reason to doubt his housekeeper’s account and every reason to believe him capable of such generosity as Mrs Whitaker and Miss Tanner described. Rather than surprise, Elizabeth felt a fresh wave of shame for ever having disliked him.
