Jane leaned forward. “Lizzy, I wish you to know that I do not take this lightly. What you have done for us.”
“Nor I,” Mary said from the small table, without looking up from Alice’s watercolors. “I intend to spend my income wisely and save most of it for a rainy day.”
“I accept, Lizzy, and I am honored.” Mr. Gardiner said. “I will review the instruments with the solicitor this week. Now, are there any other concerns than your mother spending the entire sum?”
“There is the matter of fortune hunters.” Elizabeth’s voice dimmed. “A thousand per annum may not seem enough for the London dandies, but there is a man in Meryton who is a charmer, owes money, and has my parents’ confidence.”
“Indeed!” Mrs. Gardiner set her teacup down. “Has no one notified them of his debts and lack of character?”
Elizabeth shook her head, glancing at Jane, who knew vaguely about Wickham’s debts but not about Georgiana.
“I have it on good authority that such a man not only coaxes tailors and shopkeepers into extending credit he has no intention of paying, but that he also cheats at cards and is not above beguiling young women into providing gifts. But while I was at Meryton, we all believed this man to be a perfectly upright character, a member of the militia, and a most engaging and personable gentleman.”
“And now, you fear that he might set his sights on Lydia and Kitty?” Mr. Gardiner’s voice was gruff.
“Yes, Mr. Wickham has quit the militia. He claims to have been admitted to Lincoln’s Inn to study law, and he has applied to Uncle Philips for a clerkship. He has been to Longbourn twice. Mamma is in raptures.”
“Lincoln’s Inn,” Mr. Gardiner repeated. “That can be easily checked. I shall have my solicitor inquire. Wouldn’t your uncle Philips have also inquired?”
“I believe the claim is false. Mr. Darcy informed me that Wickham was given a substantial sum specifically for legal study. He spent every penny on other pursuits and never set foot in a lecture hall. This is his established pattern. He constructs the appearance of respectability until the appearance is exhausted, then moves to the next deception.”
“Darcy told you this directly?”
“He did. There is more to Wickham’s history that I cannot share fully, because some of it involves a private confidence that is not mine to disclose. But what I can tell you is that Wickham courted Mary King in Meryton for her ten thousand, but her family removed her. And he is now in the vicinity of Kitty and Lydia while claiming to be a solicitor.”
“I will write to your father tonight,” Mr. Gardiner said. “And to Philips. If Wickham is using my brother-in-law’s practice to establish false credentials, Philips has professional grounds for severing the arrangement.”
“Papa will ignore the warning, as usual.”
“Probably.” Mr. Gardiner’s voice held the weary honesty of a man who knew his brother-in-law’s weaknesses. “But the letter creates a record. I shall also advise against my sister coming to London; however, if she does bring both Lydia and Kitty, then I would advise your father to join. They will need his authority while in town.”
“Yes, Uncle,” Elizabeth agreed, although she doubted her father would exercise any restraint, preferring to hide in Lady Sophia’s library.
Mary returned to the Gardiners’ modest upright in the corner and began a quiet Haydn sonatina, and Alice followed her to the bench. The music filled the parlor, allowing Elizabeth a moment of respite.
Then the Gardiner’s maid appeared in the doorway, looking puzzled.
“Ma’am, there is a gentleman. A Sir Geoffrey Hale. He says he was calling on an associate on Lombard Street and noticed Miss Bennet’s barouche outside. He wishes to pay his respects.”
Elizabeth’s teacup hovered midair. Sir Geoffrey Hale was the horseman from the promenade. She had spoken to him for all of thirty seconds before Darcy whisked him away like a sacrificial pawn.
And now he had tracked her carriage to Cheapside. Persistent, if nothing else.
“How curious,” she said. “He had left a calling card, but I told the butler I was not taking calls today.”
Mr. Gardiner caught her tone. “Shall I send him away?”
Elizabeth considered for a moment. She had faced Lady Lucas’s ambitions, Lady Matlock’s field strategies, and Mrs. Rolleston’s opinions about her complexion. She did not see any harm in speaking to a man recommended by Lady Prideaux. Besides, her uncle was present, which was more than could be said about Darcy.
“Show him in,” she said. “I am curious, Uncle. Let us see what the man is about.”
Sir Geoffrey entered the Gardiner drawing room with the assured bearing of a man accustomed to larger rooms and more deferential company. The contrast between his tailored coat andthe comfortable furnishings was exactly the kind of dissonance Elizabeth had learned to observe.
He was tall, well-made, with the sun-weathered complexion of a serious rider. He carried a small parcel wrapped in tissue paper with a ribbon.
“Miss Bennet.” He bowed. “Forgive the intrusion. I was calling on a business associate on Lombard Street and noticed your barouche. Your coachman confirmed you were visiting family, and I could not in good conscience pass by without inquiring after your welfare.”
“My welfare is excellent, Sir Geoffrey. How kind of you to ask. May I present my aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner?”
