Page 6 of To Love And To Cherish
He bowed slightly, his expression alight with interest. “I am all attention, ma’am.”
“But before we begin,” Mrs. Gardiner said with a smile, “I have an apron for you. I should advise you to remove that fine jacket and your waistcoat as well, lest they be splattered and irrevocably ruined in the course of your duties.”
Darcy glanced at both ladies. They wore modest gowns, older in style and clearly chosen for work, not display. Without protest, he complied with her instruction. Once he had shed his outer garments and tied the apron neatly about his waist, he crossed the room and took his place beside Mrs. Gardiner.
“The orphanage is in need of tincture of echinacea,” she explained. “It supports recovery from colds and influenza, and with the winter months approaching, they are eager to replenish their stores.”
“I have never worked in a stillroom before,” he said with a note of boyish excitement. “Everything is quite new to me. I would be very glad to learn how to prepare a tincture.”
“Then we shall begin properly,” Mrs. Gardiner said, gesturing toward the pitcher and basin. “You must first wash your hands.”
Once he had completed the task, Elizabeth stepped aside to tend the willow bark, freeing Mrs. Gardiner to instruct Mr. Darcy in the art of making tincture. For the next two hours, the three worked in quiet harmony, exchanging occasional remarks over ingredients, temperatures, and timing.
At nine o’clock, Mrs. Gardiner rang for tea.
“We’ve done well today,” she said, removing her apron. “It is both a blessing and a boon to have an extra pair of hands. Mrs. Douglas will be most pleased with what we’re able to deliver this week.”
They retired to the drawing room while they waited for the tray. Darcy’s gaze fell upon the chessboard on a small side table.
“You play, Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Gardiner asked, noting his interest.
He nodded. “Occasionally.”
“Elizabeth and my husband play each evening,” she said, with some amusement. “Edward believes he is instructing her, but I assure you, her father trained her well. She wins just as often as he does.”
Darcy’s brow lifted in challenge as he turned to Elizabeth. “Would you honor me with a game?”
“Gladly,” she said. “Uncle has been coming home late these past weeks, and I have had no opponent. I’ve had to entertain myself practicing the piano.” She grimaced.
Darcy picked up a sketchbook and asked, “Is this your work, Miss Elizabeth?”
She looked up from her seat. “Yes. I agreed to art lessons on the condition that I could choose my own subjects. The drawing master is not altogether pleased, but he admits I’m proficient. I should love to be a botanist, and sketching plants and trees allows me to feel like one, at least a little.”
Darcy turned the pages slowly, studying each drawing with growing interest. “Miss Elizabeth, I am genuinely impressed. You have a real talent.”
She smiled, a touch of color rising in her cheeks. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Coming from you, that means a great deal. I daresay you are accustomed to seeing only the finest in your circles, so you are well placed to judge.”
They set the board afresh, Elizabeth taking the white pieces. Mrs. Gardiner observed from her embroidery chair, smiling behind her needlework, as Darcy soon realized he had not chosen an easy opponent. An hour passed, and he had yet to gain the advantage.
At last, he sighed and stood. “Once again, Mrs. Gardiner, I fear I have outstayed my welcome. I must excuse myself before you ask the butler to toss me out.”
Mrs. Gardiner laughed softly. As she studied the young man’s features, so refined, so composed, yet open, she wondered notfor the first time whether he was in London quite alone and longing for the company of a home.
“Mr. Darcy, would you care to return for dinner this evening?” she asked. “I suspect Lizzy would be delighted to finish your game, and may, in fact, win it.”
He smiled. “I should be very happy to return. Perhaps this time I shall meet Mr. Gardiner as well.”
“I shall send a note to his office and urge him not to delay,” she replied warmly. In truth, she wanted Edward to form his own opinion of the young man. Mr. Darcy was evidently wealthy, well-bred, and intelligent, but why he should wish to spend his time in a modest tradesman’s home remained a mystery. Where were his friends? Was he related to the Darcys of Pemberley? Perhaps her husband would uncover the answers.
That evening, the young gentleman arrived promptly. During the course of dinner, he asked her candidly, “Mrs. Gardiner, forgive the impertinence, but how is it you are so well-informed in medical matters?”
She smiled. “My father was a physician in Lambton. I studied his medical books, made visits with him, and assisted in treating patients from a young age. I now spend four hours a week at the orphanage clinic, attending to children who have seen the physician and require follow-up treatment.”
Darcy’s face brightened. “Lambton? Are you Dr. Wynn’s daughter?”
She smiled. “I am. My father retired some years ago and now resides with my brother John in Bakewell.”
They continued to speak of Lambton and the beauties of Derbyshire until Mr. Gardiner invited their guest to his study for a glass of cognac.
