“No. Though I freely admit your aunt has found rather more pleasure in the arrangement than I first anticipated.”
“I knew it,” said Elizabeth.
Mr. Gardiner smiled.
“Our stay in Brinmouth will not be undertaken solely for pleasure. There will be business to attend to, and company besides. In such circumstances, it is only right that my household should be properly represented.”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “Then I shall take particular care not to be in the way. I am very well accustomed to making do, and shall require nothing beyond what I already possess.”
“That is precisely what we must correct,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “You will be with us for several weeks, Lizzy, and among people who will expect a certain attention to appearance, whether it pleases us or not.”
“I should be sorry to occasion unnecessary expense,” Elizabeth replied. “My gowns are serviceable, and I cannot think—”
“No one has accused them of being otherwise,” said Mr. Gardiner. “But serviceable is not always sufficient. Tomorrow, a shipment of my wares is to be inspected at the warehouse. It would be very convenient if you were to accompany us. Your aunt and I shall then determine what must be done, and you shall protest only so far as civility allows.”
“You leave me very little ground on which to stand.”
“You may object once,” he replied. “After that, you must allow yourself to be pleased.”
“I begin to suspect this journey was planned with alarming thoroughness.”
“Only in the most essential particulars,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
“Which, in your aunt's opinion, include a considerable number of ribbons,” added Mr. Gardiner.
“A very sensible opinion.”
“I see I am already defeated.”
“Entirely,” said her aunt.
Chapter Two
Elizabeth had scarcely finished her tea when the bell rang and the upstairs maid entered with soft steps, curtsied, and made her way to the wardrobe.
“Madam says you are to wear the ivory muslin, miss. I have pressed it and laid out the pale blue ribbon she thought might suit.”
Elizabeth offered her thanks and allowed herself to be dressed. The attentiveness of it, the pressed gown laid out the night before, the ribbon already chosen, was not a thing she knew how to receive without a small, private discomfort. Intruth, the gown was her best, reserved for Sundays and special occasions, and she had always considered it sufficient. In the Gardiner household, she was less certain.
By the time she descended, Mrs. Gardiner was waiting in the morning room, composed and lovely in dove grey with a fine white fichu. A small box sat on the table near her elbow, from which she withdrew a pair of kid gloves and offered them with a smile.
“We shall take proper advantage of the warehouse today,” she said, her tone warm but brisk. “The modiste cannot work miracles unless we give her something to begin with, and Edward is determined you shall not lift a finger unless it is to point to something you desire.”
Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. “I cannot imagine I should know what to ask for. I do not think I ever pointed at a gown in my life.”
“Then today shall be your first. You must begin to think of yourself as a lady with means, for you shall have no shortage of opportunity to play the part this summer.”
Their destination was not far, only a few streets west, but Mr. Gardiner insisted they go by carriage. The route carried them through Cheapside, noisy and various, hawkers calling from shaded corners and apprentices darting between the wheels with armfuls of packages. Elizabeth watched from the window without quite seeing it. She was thinking, in spite of herself, about slippers.
They arrived within ten minutes. Mr. Gardiner’s warehouse stood on a clean and orderly street, set back just slightly from the main thoroughfare. Its front windows gleamed in the sun and displayed carefully arranged wares with practiced elegance.Across the glass, the gold-stamped letters read: Gardiner & Co., Fine Goods and Haberdashery.
Two clerks waited just within the open doorway. Both stood at attention and bowed respectfully as Mr. Gardiner himself stepped forward to greet them.
“My ladies,” he said with a broad grin, taking each of their gloved hands in turn. “How fine you look. Lizzy, I believe we shall make a merchant’s daughter of you yet. Come in. Come in.”
Elizabeth blushed and returned his smile. It was impossible not to.
They were led through the main warehouse, a space of high ceilings, polished wood floors, and shelves stacked with neatly arranged bolts of fabric. A velvet curtain separated it from a private salon beyond. Within was a tasteful sitting area, a writing desk with a catalogue open upon it, and a series of large panels bearing samples of muslin, cambric, lawn, sarsenet, and dimity. The air carried the subtle scent of lavender. The faint sound of footsteps and voices from the main room gave the place a comforting hum of enterprise.
