“No. The Gardiners only know Charles Bingley through the Bennets. Mr. Gardiner lives on Gracechurch Street here in town.”

“And who is Mr. Gardiner?”

“Who is he? Do you mean what does he do?”

The puzzled expression returned. “I do not understand that question, Mr. Darcy. What do you mean by ‘what does he do?’”

“Are you asking how Mr. Gardiner earns his living?”

“Oh, he earns his living,” she said, clearly unhappy with the answer.

Despite Colonel Fitzwilliam’s claim that the integration of the wealthy merchant class with England’s upper class was well under way, not everyone had heard the news. In Sir John Montford’s world, merchants were “tainted by trade.” If you did not inherit your wealth, you were beneath his notice—and, apparently, in his daughter’s world as well.

“Mr. Gardiner is a coffee broker.”

Miss Montford shrugged her shoulders, clearly not knowing what a coffee broker was or did.

“Have you ever thought about the tea you drink every day, Miss Montford? It comes from faraway lands, China, India, Ceylon, on ships with towering masts and billowing sails, hugging the coast of Africa, and following the outline of the Iberian Peninsula before veering out to sea with its destination of Bristol or London. After the ship arrives in port, the brokers go down to the docks and bid on its cargo. In turn, the brokers sell their commodities to the merchants, who sell it to your housekeeper. It is amazing to me the things we take for granted as part of our everyday lives come to us from such great distances, including our coffee and tea.”

“That sounds very exciting. I have never given any thought to where my tea comes from, but I think I shall in the future.”

With that slight encouragement, Darcy recalled stories told to him by his father and governess as well as the journals and accounts of the great explorers he had read while at Eton.

“Those who faced the dangers of the open seas have been a subject that has always fascinated me. As a boy, I sailed with Captain Cook on his voyages of discovery to the South Seas and intercepted ships from the New World laden with silver and gold bound for Spain with Sir Francis Drake.” After a short pause, he added, “I am speaking figuratively, of course.” Surely, she knew that. Cook had died a few years before his birth, and Drake had sailed for the great Elizabeth, Regina Gloriana, in the sixteenth century.

And then the silence he so dreaded returned as Miss Montford did not know how to respond to his childhood imaginings. After a few minutes, Darcy fell back on the old reliable: the weather.

“Georgiana writes that the autumn colors at Pemberley are still quite beautiful. I think this may be the first autumn I have ever missed in Derbyshire.”

“Why did you not go with your sister?”

“Because there are people I wished to see in London.” Like you, my dear. That is why I am here. “This will be the first time my sister has acted as the mistress of Pemberley, but it is a small party and manageable for her first effort.”

“I imagine you wish you were in Derbyshire since London is rather dull at this time of year.”

“Yes, very dull.”

“Since your sister is alone and you wish to be in the country, maybe you should go to Pemberley.”

“Miss Montford, my sister is not alone. And I have been gone from London quite a bit of late, as you may have noticed, and I feel I may have neglected some of my… friends.”

“But, Mr. Darcy, you should not neglect your sister on anyone’s account. Papa would never permit me go to the country without a male relation.”

Neglect? Darcy wanted to laugh. This was absurd. Georgiana was in the company of a mature young woman and her middle-aged aunt and uncle and in the midst of an army of servants. His staff could have fended off a French raid.

“I have always encouraged Georgiana’s independence,” Darcy explained, and then he heard a gasp from Miss Montford. With a harsher tone than he had intended, he said, “You should not be uneasy on my sister’s account. There is always someone about,” and then he saw an opening. “But if it would make you feel better if I went to Derbyshire, I would consider it. However, I am perfectly agreeable to staying in town if that is what you would wish.”

“I can only say what my father would do, and he would go to Derbyshire to be with me.”

After another fifteen minutes of weather-related discussions—Letitia was predicting cooler temperatures with some rain and snow sometime during the winter season—Darcy took his leave. When he emerged from the Montford house, a hackney pulled over, but he waved him off. He needed to walk and to think. He had finally taken the first step in beginning a courtship with Miss Montford, and after paying her what was for him an excessive amount of compliments, she had encouraged him to leave town, which he was willing to do. There was only one problem. He could not go to Pemberley.

Chapter 22

When Darcy returned home, it was to an empty house. Richard was dining at his club and would most certainly play cards, and he had given Mercer the evening off. He suspected that his valet was having a romance with a cook in one of the adjacent townhouses. Mercer, a man of forty-seven years, had never married and had once told him that he had a female acquaintance at many of the coaching inns where the post coach made its stops, but rather than limiting himself to any one lady, he had chosen to remain a bachelor. “Share the wealth, sir,” he had said with a smile.

But a letter from Georgiana was waiting for him in which she related her company’s first full day at Pemberley. With Mr. Gardiner fishing and Mrs. Gardiner visiting an old friend in the village, Georgiana had convinced Elizabeth to go riding.


Since it had been such a long time since Lizzy has been on a horse (she much prefers walking)…


Lizzy? Of course, Georgiana would call her Lizzy; they were friends. As far as her preference for walking was concerned, Darcy knew from their time together at Netherfield during her sister’s convalescence that Elizabeth was very fond of walking. He remembered a most pleasant stroll in the park, and by the time they had returned to the house, he was in love with her.


…she felt the need to ride Sugar in the yard. But our dappled gray had her own ideas and went right back into the stables. Lizzy was laughing so hard that she could not get Sugar to respond, and in no time at all, they were back at Sugar’s stall. You should have seen the look on Belling’s face, and then, without any irony, he said, “Are you done for the day, Miss?” and we could hardly contain ourselves. It had taken Belling longer to saddle Sugar than Lizzy had been on her.


After tucking the note into his pocket, Darcy had been on the point of retiring when Richard came home. “Tonight was not my night for cards. I am a poor man, and so I know when to leave the tables, especially when I am losing to my brother.” After pouring himself a brandy and another for his cousin, Richard asked Darcy how his visit with Miss Montford had gone.

After Darcy explained the interesting turn of events, Richard said, “Darcy, you are a lucky devil. Miss Montford actually gave you her permission to go to Pemberley.”

“I can’t go to Pemberley, but if I am supposed to be in Derbyshire, then I can’t stay in town either. I shall write to Anne to tell her that I wish to visit. There is no hardship there, except, of course, listening to Aunt Catherine’s complaints.”

“Darcy, what are you talking about? You must go to Pemberley.”

“Out of the question,” he said, shaking his head. “I will not even consider it, and if you want to know why, I shall tell you. After our discussion the other night in which we decided that Miss Elizabeth had not been injured, I came to a different conclusion. She may not have had expectations of a marriage proposal, but flirtations are hopeful things, full of promise, and I cannot believe that at some time in all those weeks that she had not looked for a different outcome.”

“If that is what you truly believe, then you really must go to Pemberley. If her hopes have truly been elevated, then they should be brought down in increments, not in one deafening crash when you attend the wedding of her sister to Charles Bingley with your betrothed. My suggestion would be for you to go to Derbyshire and let her know that you wish to remain friends.”

Darcy sat back in his chair and looked at the brandy-filled glass as the candlelight passed through it, the crystal providing clarity as to the wine’s color and texture and to his thoughts as well.

“I have no one to blame for the situation I find myself in but me. I had this list in my head of what was required of a prospective bride for Fitzwilliam Darcy, and with Miss Montford, I was able to check off many of the items on the list: attractive, accomplished, good dancer, pleasant personality, an agreeable companion for Georgiana, granddaughter of an earl, and someone who moved in the highest tiers of London society. Through a process of elimination, I decided that she was the one I would marry, so that I might have a son and heir.

“Richard, if it were not so damn depressing I could almost laugh. Logical, careful, and methodical Fitzwilliam Darcy, who does everything by the numbers so that nothing is overlooked and plans are made for every contingency, messed up badly. The one thing I failed to factor in to all this courtship business was that I would fall in love with someone else.”