Mr Bennet simply nodded, then walked out of her home with a sprightliness she had not seen for years.
“Would you like to refresh yourself before dinner, Mary?”
“Yes, I thought you would never ask.” Mary sighed.
“Then follow me,” Elizabeth suggested.
Mary collected her strongbox from a nearby table and clutched it in her hands. Of all the Bennet sisters, Mary was the only one who fastidiously saved her quarterly allowance of ten pounds and hardly ever used a farthing of it. It was probably wise not to leave it at home as she would not put it past Lydia, who was perpetually broke, to pick the lock.
“You have been exceedingly fortunate in your choice of husband,” Mary commended upon entering her lovely room.
“Yes, I have,” Elizabeth replied in a high pitch.
#
It was strange to have so many who knew each other so little present at breakfast the next morning. Elizabeth’s spirits, however, were much improved. Darcy had come to her last evening and had held her in a comforting embrace through the night.
Darcy lowered his newspaper. “What are your plans for the day, Georgiana?”
“I have a drawing lesson at eleven.”
“I shall ask your master whether Miss Bennet could join you.”
“Miss Bennet admitted to me only yesterday that she does not draw,” Miss Darcy informed her brother.
“Do not make yourself uneasy,” Elizabeth mollified her frowning husband and fidgety new sister. “Mary and I have a prior engagement. I sent a note to our uncle Gardiner last evening, and he is expecting us at noon.” She should have informed Darcy sooner, but with the strained atmosphere between them, the matter had simply been forgotten. The visit could hardly come as a surprise as it had been mentioned in reference to renewing Mary’s wardrobe.
Darcy looked pleased at her efforts, so she continued. “I believe, with such a great difference in the girls’ drawing skills, it would be difficult to teach them both at the same time.”
“Very well. I leave it to you to arrange the lessons as you see fit,” Darcy agreed before resuming reading his paper.
There were fortunately no callers that morning, not that Elizabeth had received many since they had arrived in town, with the exception of the ones Lady Matlock had sent. It was strange that the countess had not mentioned returning the calls, but customs might differ in superior society. It was the convention, in her neighbourhood, to refrain from visiting couples who had recently married, so she supposed that was the reason and had not spared it much thought.
The Gardiner house on Gracechurch Street was situated in a trading area that had thrived since the medieval corn markets were held at Saint Benet Gracechurch.
Mrs Gardiner greeted the sisters on the steps and ushered them into the parlour for a cup of tea, where Mr Gardiner was waiting for them.
“We have come to ask your advice in choosing the best dressmaker in town. My experience with Mrs Bean’s Magazin des Modes does not bear repeating.” Elizabeth chuckled because if she did not laugh there was a distinct possibility she might cry instead.
Mr Gardiner’s head turned abruptly towards her; his quizzical eyes bore into her. Could he have heard about the travesty at the dressmaker’s? Was Elizabeth’s name being bandied about as the most naïve, imprudent lady who had ever crossed the shop’s threshold?
“Mrs Bean is one of my business partners, and I would like to know of what you have to accuse her,” Mr Gardiner’s voice grumbled. “She is highly sought after amongst thebeau monde,though I know something about her of a less flattering nature.”
How much should she divulge and what should she conceal? Studying her most trusted relations, Elizabeth decided to be frank about her dealings with the woman, and the countess’s involvement.
“Lady Matlock had made me an appointment the day after we arrived in town, and I have nothing to criticise other than her calculations. I ordered twelve dresses, and the countess insisted upon gifting me a ball gown as a welcome to the family, but for some inexplicable reason, five-and-twenty dresses were delivered. The additional gowns arrived on the night of Lady Matlock’s ball. I was pressed for time, and with the alterations needed, I was ignorant of the excess until Mr Darcy received the bill. A wretched mistake…”
“I assume Mr Darcy was not best pleased at the additional cost of the gowns?” Mr Gardiner queried.
Elizabeth chuckled mirthlessly.
“No, but that was hardly the end of it. The stack of bills on his desk was beyond the pale. The cobbler and hat maker I did visit, but the number of slippers did not match what I had ordered. The worst was a set of silver spoons. I had not made the order, and I cannot help but suspect one whom it would be dangerous to accuse.”
Her relations were stunned into silence. Mary shook her bowed head, Mrs Gardiner gaped, and Mr Gardiner rubbed his chin in contemplation.
“What I am about to divulge must not leave this room.” Mr Gardiner looked each of them in the eye and did not continue until they had nodded their consent. “Mrs Bean owes me a considerable amount of money. In excess of three thousand pounds.”
Even Mrs Gardiner gasped at such a significant figure. Elizabeth was not privy to Mr Gardiner’s wealth, but the sum would threaten the existence of most tradesmen.
