"The concept is sound. The planning appears thorough. I should like to speak with Mr. Gardiner in person before reaching a decision."
"It would be a worthwhile investment. Captain Montjoy is no fool, and Ellison's name opens doors."
"Even so, I prefer to form my own opinion."
"You always do," said Richard. "Though in this case, I suspect your opinion will conveniently coincide with a desire for sea air."
Darcy looked at him steadily. "I do not need an excuse to leave London."
"Do not deny it," Richard continued. "What better excuse to quit London before the Season has eaten your last nerve? You may claim diligence while avoiding ballrooms and bored heiresses."
"I do not need an excuse to leave London."
"No," said Richard, "but it is more satisfying to have one."
Chapter Four
Clerkenwell lay but a short drive from Gracechurch Street, yet the turn into its narrower lane was greeted with an excitement that had been building since breakfast. Grace and Bethany pressed their faces to the carriage glass, speaking at once of games they hoped to resume and whether Grandmama’s cat would remember them. Eddie sat very straight, his elephant tucked firmly beneath one arm, while Freddie slept soundly in the nurse’s arms despite the jostling of the wheels.
The moment the carriage came to a halt, the girls burst forward with delighted cries, their ribbons streaming behind them as they ran up the path, calling for their grandmother.
Mrs. Gardiner followed with her usual composure, adjusting her bonnet with one hand and gesturing for Nora to follow. Elizabeth stepped down more carefully, retrieving a small valise that had been nudged beneath her feet by a pair of restless shoes. The morning was fine, the breeze light, and the rosemary planted near the steps gave the air a clean and welcome fragrance.
The door opened before they could knock. A maid with a cheerful expression stood ready and held it wide as the children hurried past with loud greetings. Within, the house had a settled, comfortable air. The woodwork shone with care, and the scent of lavender and hearth ash lingered faintly beneath the polish.
From the back room came the sound of footsteps, and a moment later Mrs. Pembroke appeared, wiping her hands on a neatly folded cloth. She was small in figure, but her posture was upright and her expression full of affection. Her white hair was arranged simply beneath her morning cap, and her eyes brightened at the sight of her grandchildren. Bethany reached her first and was immediately swept into a firm, warm embrace, followed quickly by Grace, who began chattering about her drawing box and which bed she hoped to sleep in. Eddie hung back for a moment before approaching with solemn dignity, which his grandmother received with a smile and a kiss on the forehead.
“Let me look at you, my darlings. Goodness, how you grow when I am not watching.” She drew the older children close before taking Freddie from Nora's arms. “And you, young sir, areheavier every time I see you. Come along. I believe bread and milk are in your immediate future.”
Only then did she turn to her daughter and gather her into a warm embrace.
“Madeline, my dear. It is good to have you home.”
“I am glad to be here.”
Mrs. Pembroke's attention shifted at last to Elizabeth.
“And this must be Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth curtsied.
“I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, ma'am.”
“Come closer, then. I have heard a great deal about you and intend to see whether any of it is true.”
Elizabeth obeyed, smiling despite herself.
“My grandchildren insist you tell the best stories in England.”
“They are partial judges, I fear.”
“As all sensible grandchildren ought to be.”
The remark was delivered with such certainty that Elizabeth laughed.
“Now,” said Mrs. Pembroke, turning back toward the house, “I believe there are trunks to be sorted and children to settle. Sally is waiting for Nora, and I have tea in the parlour.”
She glanced back at Elizabeth.
