CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mr Gardiner, the Bennets’ tradesman relation, was a perfectly acceptable acquaintance. Upon meeting me, he did not display a trace of wonder. Apparently, he was on speaking terms with any number of gentlemen of means, and I was just another such man. Mrs Gardiner, too, was a pleasant surprise. She grew up not five miles from Pemberley, and her manners were far more elegant for their sincerity alone than those of Miss Bingley or Mrs Hurst. I would not hesitate to bring my sister to her house should I be invited to do so.
As I sat eating tea sandwiches in the parlour of their house in Cheapside, I reflected that I had eaten more helpings of humility in those few weeks since making the acquaintance of Miss Elizabeth Bennet than had been served to me in my lifetime.
Mr Bennet, meanwhile, had discovered a lecture to be given in the open forum of the Royal Society by Mr Poole, just returned from Java, an emerging expert on tropical birds. He regretted to Mr Gardiner that he could not stay for that, as it was in two days, and asked whether his brother-in-law would go.
“There is no reason we cannot stay a few days longer, is there, sir?” I asked.
Mr Bennet beamed his pleasure, convinced Mr Gardiner that there would not be anything more interesting to be heard, and promised we would see stuffed specimens and coloured drawings of birds we could not imagine coming from the mere Garden of Eden until we were all convinced.
“Are ladies allowed in the open meetings?” he asked me.
“I believe so, though they are not commonly in attendance.”
“I only ask because Mrs Annesley would enjoy this lecture. Natural sciences and birds in general are of interest to her.”
“Should she agree to go, I may go with her so she does not feel ill at ease,” Mrs Gardiner said.
Predictably, when this plan was later presented to Mrs Annesley, she was aglow with excitement when she learnt of the lecture, and the plan to attend was set into motion.
Seeing as though my guest was only too happy to avoid returning to Longbourn just yet, I suggested we stay in London until the following Monday.
“That would be best, Darcy,” he said agreeably. “I have not yet gone to the shops for my daughters. Mrs Annesley and Miss Darcy have committed to go with me and to help with suggestions as to what to buy.”
“Have they? When do you go?”
“In half an hour,” he said.
How this schedule could justify staying until the following week we left unsaid, and having nothing else to do, I soon found myself tacked on the back of their expedition. Thankfully, I was not superfluous to the job at hand.
“What colouring is your daughter Mary?” Mrs Annesley asked as she looked over the selection in the window of a draper’s shop.
“Ordinary,” Mr Bennet said with a shrug.
“She has light brown hair and brown eyes,” I hastily interjected.
“Would she look better in ivory or white?”
“Ivory,” I said with confidence. Unbelievably, I was then forced to describe the girl’s height and general construction, since her father could not conjure a single word on the subject. Mrs Annesley thought she saw just the thing and took Mr Bennet inside the shop. I waited outside with Georgiana.
“Do all the Miss Bennets look alike?” my sister asked in a rare opener.
“Oddly enough, they are all different. Miss Jane Bennet, the eldest, is tall and blonde. Miss Elizabeth is the shortest in stature and dark-haired.”
“Are they pretty?”
Gracious! Was this an inquisition?“I suppose they could be called pretty.”
“Are they accomplished?”
I turned away from the street, which I had been watching to pass the time, and looked down at my sister. “To what end are these questions, sprite?”
“I am only curious.”
“Miss Bennet is mistress of a household, which means she has many accomplishments of that nature. Miss Elizabeth has read almost every book in Mr Bennet’s library, and Miss Mary is diligent at practicing her pianoforte, though she could use a master.” There was so much left unsaid in this reply that I felt the need to fidget with my watch chain.
“If I ever have the opportunity, I would like to meet them,” Georgiana said.
