Mrs. Gardiner, pleased to see the company expand without losing its harmony, directed a gentle current of talk through the room. She asked the Captain a question about a recent crossing which allowed him to shine without boasting. She inquired of Mr. Hargrave whether he had found decent quarters near the quay, and he replied with gratitude for a recommendation Mr. Gardiner had given him the day before. She wondered after Mr. Darcy’s health in the sea air and whether it suited him, and he answered that it did very well, with a look which, for an instant, was almost warm.
Elizabeth ventured a remark to Mr. Hargrave upon the lending library in the village, and learned that his wife, who was not with him at Brinmouth, had a love of novels which did not prevent her from being a capital manager of her household. He spoke of her with a respect that pleased Elizabeth more than any flattery would have done. Captain Mountjoy, not to be left idle, entertained them with a story of a boatman whose dog could be persuaded to fetch a rope with more industry than its master. The tale drew a smile even from Mr. Darcy. It was slight, but it was there.
As the gentlemen became more comfortable with one another, Mr. Gardiner introduced the subject of warehousing and consignments. Captain Mountjoy affirmed that a bold beginning best secured the respect of men who would otherwise despise caution. Mr. Hargrave proposed that there was a happy medium, and that it could be found if the first season were used to prove reliability before tempting fortune with larger ventures.
Mr. Darcy asked little, yet his few inquiries were so pointed that Elizabeth, despite her earlier misgivings, found herself listening more intently to his voice than to the answers it drew forth.
Mrs. Gardiner observed the effect of these different spirits with a satisfaction she did not allow to become triumph. She had seen such meetings spoil themselves either by too much zeal or by timidity dressed as prudence. Here, the balance seemed to hold. She glanced once at Elizabeth and once at Mr. Darcy.
The hall clock struck the hour. A moment later the soft chime of the dining bell was heard. Mr. Gardiner rose with a look of quiet contentment, as a man who sees his dinner ready and his company well disposed to enjoy it. He offered his arm to his wife. Captain Mountjoy requested the honour of conducting Miss Bennet. Mr. Hargrave fell in beside Mr. Darcy, and the gentlemen yielded precedence with suitable politeness as they passed from the parlour into the small dining room that looked upon the garden.
The table had been laid with particular care. A vase of wildflowers, gathered by the cook's daughter that afternoon, stood near the salt, and Mr. Darcy's place was opposite Elizabeth's.
Mrs. Gardiner directed the first course to be served. Conversation rose and fell in agreeable turns. Captain Mountjoypraised the soup with commendable seriousness. Mr. Hargrave spoke of the excellence of the local bread and said nothing in excess of the truth. Mr. Gardiner remarked upon a recent improvement in the packing of fragile goods, and Mr. Darcy replied in a manner that showed he had not only listened, but considered. Captain Mountjoy was determined to admire everything before him; Mr. Hargrave approved only after consideration.
By the time the servants removed the first course, Elizabeth found herself more at ease than she had expected. Looking up once, she found Mr. Darcy listening to her uncle with quiet attention, and was obliged to admit that his reserve no longer struck her as quite so severe.
Chapter Nine
Darcy awoke with a mind unquiet. The night had afforded little rest, and he rose earlier than was his habit. For some time he stood at the window watching the tide creep steadily over the rocks below, while his thoughts returned unwillingly to the previous evening.
The business itself had progressed satisfactorily. Captain Mountjoy desired only a speedy conclusion that he might return to sea, and Mr. Hargrave was equally anxious to resume his domestic comforts. When the question arose of replacing Sir Thomas's contribution, Darcy had offered to supply the deficiency himself. The proposal had been accepted without objection, though Mr. Gardiner's look suggested a curiosity he had not chosen to express before company.
Had they been alone, Darcy would have spoken more openly. Mr. Gardiner was a man of business and would readily have understood what many gentlemen preferred to ignore; thata fortune might be enlarged by means other than land alone. Darcy had no shame in such matters, though he was seldom inclined to discuss them beyond a small circle. A brief glance had passed between them across the table which convinced him that further explanation could wait for another occasion.
His thoughts turned next to Lord Matlock and Ashford. Both had encouraged his journey to Brinmouth with an eagerness which now appeared less accidental than he had first supposed. Richard had laughed at the scheme, while Ashford and his wife had been more deliberate; yet all had urged him to come. After meeting Madeline again, Darcy could not help wondering whether his relations had decided that her absence from his life had endured long enough.
From Madeline, his thoughts passed naturally to her niece.That Miss Bennet should prove to be the same young lady who had already occupied his attention was an accident he had not anticipated. Throughout the previous evening he had found himself observing her more than propriety justified. She spoke little, yet never seemed at a loss for interest. Whether listening to Captain Mountjoy's lively accounts or replying to Mr. Hargrave's quieter observations, she displayed a good sense and consideration for others which he found increasingly difficult to disregard.
Such reflections were dangerous. He had known Miss Bennet scarcely three days. To build expectations upon so slight an acquaintance was folly, and Darcy was not a man given to romantic fancies. Yet reason proved less persuasive than usual that morning.
He left the window and crossed the room. To walk upon the shore was natural enough; Brinmouth offered few alternatives, and he had no horse with him. Twice accident had brought them together. To seek a third meeting bordered upon design. Darcytook up his coat. Whether prudence approved or not, his course was decided.
The air was cool, the tide half-turned, and the sand lay firm beneath his boots. He told himself he came for exercise. He had not gone far before he perceived a figure walking ahead, the wind lifting the ribbons of her bonnet and the hem of her light gown. The same servant as before followed at a respectful distance. As he drew nearer, his step involuntarily diminished, for the lady before him was Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
For a moment he debated retreat, but retreat was impossible. She had already turned, and upon seeing him paused with an expression of surprise which was quickly schooled into composure. He removed his hat and bowed.
“Miss Bennet.”
“Mr. Darcy.” She curtsied with equal propriety, a faint colour rising in her cheek.
“You are abroad early. The shore is at its best in the morning.”
“I think so too, sir. The light changes every instant, and one is never weary of the view.”
They walked on for several moments in silence. The waves advanced and retreated upon the sand with a steady murmur.
“You have not long been at Brinmouth, I think.”
“No, sir. Only since the day before yesterday.”
“You find it agreeable.”
“Very much so. I had not seen the sea before, and it is more various than I imagined. One cannot look upon it without feeling both small and enlarged at once.”
“It is indeed so. The sea teaches humility, and yet it gives a sense of freedom.”
She looked at him then, and for a moment neither spoke. They walked a little farther, the waves breaking softly at their side. Elizabeth stooped to examine a shell before letting it fall again to the sand.
