by C. P. Odom
Mrs. Gardiner merely nodded her understanding, but it was clear that Lizzy had been justified in her decision to remain at the inn to avoid seeing Mr. Darcy.
When the housekeeper took them into one of the rooms, Mrs. Gardiner called her husband over and showed him a miniature suspended among several others over the mantelpiece.
“Look, my dear, is this not a likeness of the Mr. Wickham we met at Christmas?”
“I believe it is,” he said, leaning forward for a closer examination. “It looks as though it was rendered when he was perhaps nineteen or twenty, though he appeared to be in his later twenties when we met him at Longbourn”
Mrs. Reynolds joined him. “That is the picture of a young gentleman, the son of my late master’s steward. My master raised him at his own expense, for he was very fond of the young man. He even paid for him at school and at Cambridge, but I am afraid the young man has turned out very wild. The last word I had of him was he has gone into the army.” Her voice had a clearly disdainful air.
This is obviously not one of Mr. Wickham’s admirers, Mrs. Gardiner thought, and this information seems to conflict with Wickham’s testimony about it only being the present Mr. Darcy who formed a dislike. Did he not say the housekeeper was very fond of him?
“And that,” Mrs. Reynolds said, pointing to another of the miniatures, “is my present master and is very like him. It was drawn at the same time as the other picture about eight years ago.”
“I have heard much of your master’s fine person,” Mrs. Gardiner said, looking at the picture. “He appears very handsome, which agrees with what my niece has told me.”
“And does your niece know Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Reynolds asked in interest.
“I know they were introduced in Hertfordshire last winter though I am not sure of the extent of the acquaintance.”
The mere fact of Mrs. Gardiner’s niece having been introduced to her present master seemed sufficient recommendation to the housekeeper, who affirmed him a most handsome gentleman.
“In the gallery upstairs is a finer, larger picture than this. This was my late master’s favorite room, and Mr. Darcy has kept these miniatures just as they used to be when his father was alive. My late master was very fond of them.”
Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to a miniature of Darcy’s sister, drawn when she was only eight years old.
“And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?” Mr. Gardiner asked.
“Oh, yes!” Mrs. Reynolds said enthusiastically. “She is the handsomest young lady ever seen and is so accomplished! She plays and sings all day long! She was playing on a new instrument in the other room earlier in the day. It is a present from my master on the occasion of her upcoming birthday and was delivered just a few days ago.”
“Is your master much at Pemberley during the course of the year?” Mr. Gardiner inquired
“Not so much as I could wish, sir. He is always going to town on business with his American friend, Major McDunn. He used to spend more time here, about half his time in the course of a year, but he is unfortunately too busy most times.”
“If your master would marry, you might see more of him,” Mrs. Gardiner said casually.
“You are indeed right, madam, but I do not know when that will be. I do not know who is good enough for him. I say no more than the truth, and everybody who knows him will say the same. I have never had a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old.”
The Gardiners followed the faithful housekeeper, considering her words. This was praise, of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to what Wickham had declared, Mrs. Gardiner knew. She had assumed Mr. Darcy could not be a good-tempered man, but now she began to doubt her previous information.
“There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky in having such a master,” Mr. Gardiner said.
“Yes, sir, I know I am. If I was to go through the world, I could not meet with a better. But I have always observed that they who are good-natured when children are good-natured when they grow up. And Mr. Darcy was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the world.”
“His father was an excellent man,” Mrs. Gardiner said for it had been common opinion when she resided at Lambton.
“Yes, ma’am, he was indeed. His son will be just like him—just as affable to the poor.”
As they continued on, Mrs. Reynolds related the subject of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the furniture. “I do apologize for not taking you to the lobby above where there are many pictures and several fine bedrooms you would likely find interesting. With the family in residence, however, you have seen everything open to general inspection.”
She was clearly disappointed in not being able to continue her praise of the family but continued to talk as she guided them to the hall door. There she consigned them to the care of the gardener, who started to lead them across the lawn toward the river. Mr. Gardiner, however, stopped to look back, enquiring of their escort as to the date of the building, but the man had to admit his lack of knowledge. His expertise, he said, lay in growing things, not at all in bricks and mortar and wood.
The gardener now led his charges toward a beautiful walk by the side of the water, where every step they took brought forward a nobler fall of ground or a finer reach of woods. Everything seemed to fit together in a harmony that was unique in their experience. They were enjoying themselves immensely, exceedingly pleased to find the Pemberley gardens every jot as impressive as reputed and a brilliant match with the magnificence of the house itself.
The gardener next led them away from the river into the woods and along climbing paths to higher ground, which gave the eye a chance to roam among openings in the surrounding trees, affording many charming views of the valley, hills, woods, and streams. Mr. Gardiner was so enthused, he expressed a desire of going round the whole park, but his wish met the sly, triumphant smile of the gardener, who informed both husband and wife that the whole walk encompassed a full ten miles. Somewhat disappointed, they quickly settled for the accustomed circuit, which at length brought them over a bridge from which they could see the house in the distance.
This was, at last, too much for Mrs. Gardiner, who was not a great walker, and she declared her fatigue to her husband, wishing to return to their carriage as soon as may be. Mr. Gardiner declared his complete understanding, and the gardener led them toward the house.
Their progress was slowed by Mr. Gardiner’s close inspection of the occasional trout in one of the many streams. He was talking to the gardener, asking the usual questions of a dedicated angler as the trio approached an archway cut through a tall hedge. They looked up suddenly when they heard the quick footsteps of a man running on the other side, and they were quite startled as a tall man suddenly burst through the opening in the hedge. Mrs. Gardiner gave a squeak of fright, and the apparition came to a sudden and precipitous stop not five feet in front of them.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” he said in a deep, anxious voice, clearly alarmed at having confronted them so unexpectedly. He was dressed in strange-appearing, loose clothing marked by dark areas of perspiration. His chest rose and fell with his deep breathing, but he did not appear at all distressed by his exertions.
“Please excuse me. I was just finishing my run, and I quite forgot there might be visitors touring the grounds.”
He smiled broadly at the gardener. “Good day, Taylor. I hope I didn’t frighten you or your charges.”
“Good afternoon, Major,” the gardener said, returning McDunn’s nod. “It does seem you gave the lady a bit of a fright, but me? Glory be, no, sir. I am well used to our mad American by now.”
The stranger grinned even more broadly and turned to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, who had regained their aplomb and looked at him in wonder, bemused by both his
accent as well as his appearance.
“Yes, indeed, you may well look at the mad American in astonishment,” he said lightly and in such a manner that both of them had to smile. “My strange attire is what I wear when I run since a gentleman’s walking or riding attire would be highly uncomfortable.”
“I daresay, sir,” Mr. Gardiner said with a slight smile.
“Since I hail from the colonies, I am still learning the ins and outs of how people are supposed to be introduced, so I introduce myself to anybody and everybody without bothering to learn their proper status. Accordingly, my name is Edward McDunn. Darcy always introduces me as Major McDunn, giving me the courtesy of a military rank despite the fact that I’m no longer a serving officer. But I respond to either one as well as a variety of others, some of which can even be repeated in polite company.”
Mr. Gardiner laughed out loud, clearly liking the forthrightness of this young stranger very much, and his wife hid her smile behind her gloved hand.
“My name is Gardiner, young American, and this is my wife. However, while I must admit you are a character quite out of the ordinary, you do not appear to be at all mad. But I do have to ask why you were running so fast and so hard since you clearly were not running from danger of any sort.”
McDunn smiled at this amiable, middle-aged man who seemed much less stiff and reserved than most people he usually met either socially or as part of his business.
“I call it my daily three-mile run, Mr. Gardiner, except I have been prevented from indulging myself while Darcy and I have been in town. Business, you know.”
“Darcy, Fitzwilliam, and McDunn!” Mr. Gardiner burst out unexpectedly. “I should have known it when you introduced yourself!”
“You recognize my name?” McDunn asked. “Have we met before?”
“No, sir, we have not, though I have met with your agents when I was arranging for the purchase and delivery of a large quantity of wooden rectangles for some project they would not discuss.”
Mrs. Gardiner watched this amiable conversation, her initial fright ebbing away at the tall man’s manner and her husband’s recognition of his name. While his behavior was indeed out of the ordinary, she no longer felt any fear of him.
“Wooden rectangles,” repeated McDunn carefully. “Could we walk on, Mr. Gardiner, madam? I was almost through with my run, but my muscles will cramp if I do not walk after running. Kind of like a horse.”
“Certainly, sir, certainly,” Mr. Gardiner said agreeably because he very much wanted to continue his discussion with this young man. His wife nodded agreement and took her husband’s arm as they walked through the opening in the hedge toward the house.
McDunn continued. “You mentioned wooden rectangles, didn’t you, sir?”
“I did. Your agents were quite determined that the measurements of the rectangles needed to meet certain stringent requirements, and since I received several additional orders, I surmise our product met those requirements adequately.”
“They did, sir; they most definitely did,” McDunn said, his face suddenly colder and grimmer. “We had a bit of trouble with other suppliers. They all seemed to think our measurements were mere suggestions, and not all the items they delivered met them. Yours were quite satisfactory, and we were pleased you were able to make additional deliveries.”
“It did take almost a week to get everything set up just right before we started cutting. And then we had to soak them in that foul liquid your people provided.”
“Wood tar—keeps the wood from rotting in the ground. Otherwise, we’d have to tear up the crossties and rails every four or five years and replace them. It’s no way to run a business at a profit.”
“I knew it must have been some important reason. But you mentioned rails, which leads me to wonder whether you needed our product for Mr. Darcy’s steam locomotive.”
“So you did not know what use your deliveries were being put to?”
“No, sir. Your agents would not give me a clue.”
“That’s because I didn’t give them a clue, Mr. Gardiner!” McDunn said with obvious pleasure, “but I’m pleased we managed to keep the information secret. I’ve learned from experience that what a man doesn’t know, he can’t divulge. But I suppose the reason for such secrecy is mostly gone now, what with the reports in the papers.”
McDunn suddenly stopped. “Look, Mr. Gardiner,” he said earnestly, “I have no idea how you came to be walking these paths today, but Darcy and I were planning to call on you in town sometime soon. So meeting you today is both coincidental and fortuitous. Unfortunately, I have to bring up a sensitive subject since you are aware of our wish to keep parts of our business affairs confidential.”
“And you wish to know if I can keep a secret—correct?”
“Exactly, sir. Parts of what we plan to do simply can’t be bandied about in public.”
“I am known as a man of my word to all my associates as well as my customers and clients,” Mr. Gardiner said somberly. “You may trust my wife also. I am still waiting for the first time she has ever divulged a secret.”
“I’m sorry to be so blunt.”
“Think nothing of it, sir,” Mr. Gardiner said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I am not at all offended. I fully understand the need for secrets in the world of trade.”
“Very well,” McDunn said, nodding and holding out his hand. “Let’s shake on it.”
As her husband took the proffered hand, McDunn turned to Mrs. Gardiner with a crooked smile. “It’s one of the reasons Darcy calls me his mad American, Mrs. Gardiner. He thinks all Americans are wild to shake hands with everyone they meet. But I assure you I’m harmless.”
“So it seems, sir,” Mrs. Gardiner said, “though you do give some credence to what Mr. Darcy calls you.”
McDunn laughed again and turned to resume walking. “You two make a comfortable pair, indeed you do. So, yes, you are correct. Your wood rectangles, which we call crossties, will be used in laying the rails for a steam railway—actually, steam railways, plural. You’ve probably read of our successful demonstration at the Wylam colliery, pulling heavy loads of coal with our locomotive.”
Mr. Gardiner nodded, and McDunn continued. “One of the reasons we’re so particular with our crossties is to keep the weight and the power of our locomotive from damaging the railway.”
Mr. Gardiner was impressed by the easy command and confidence of this young man in speaking of the steam locomotive, which was being hailed as another triumph of the wealthy Fitzwilliam Darcy. He had been a bit doubtful such a wealthy gentleman as Mr. Darcy could have been solely responsible for the steam locomotive so glowingly described in The Times. His doubts were now at least partially confirmed. This young man had to have been equally or perhaps even more responsible, though his name had not even been mentioned in the newspapers.
They were now approaching the house, and McDunn saw Mrs. Gardiner leaning heavily on the arm of her husband. He pointed to one of the many benches scattered along the paths and urged her to rest.
“Thank you, sir,” she said gratefully, sitting down with a sigh of relief. “I earlier asked Mr. Gardiner if we might seek our carriage soon. It appears I am not as suited for walking as I was in my youth.”
“I can see that exploring Pemberley has taken its toll on you, Mrs. Gardiner. It’s beautiful, but it’s a stern objective to see as much as you’d like. However, when you feel up to it, could I talk you into returning to the house instead of going directly to your carriage? I would like to introduce both of you to Darcy, and then we might have a few words with your husband. I’ll ask Miss Darcy to entertain you while we talk. She is a most excellent performer, as well as being every bit as sweet as I’m sure Mrs. Reynolds described her.”
“Oh, that would be very pleasant. Mrs. Reynolds did praise her talents greatly.”
“Excellent, excellent,” McDunn said, smiling as he continued to walk back and forth. “Please excuse my walking.”
“Yes, cramps, you said. Not at all,” Mr. Gardiner said with a smile.
***
Darcy rose when he saw McDunn enter the room where Georgiana was playing her birthday present since a couple in their middle years accompanied him. He quickly appraised the visitors as being people of fashion though probably not wealthy enough to be true members of the gentry. The gentleman had a sensible, well-dressed appearance, and the lady, obviously his wife, looked to be a suitable match with the stamp of intelligence in her features.
“Ah, Darcy, Miss Darcy,” McDunn said. “May I present Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner? They took a tour of the house and were being escorted through the gardens when I almost ran them down.”
Georgiana gave a sudden giggle, and when everyone looked at her, she said, “He does that, you know. He seems almost to go into a trance when he runs. Quite odd, you know, these Americans!”
“So we were informed,” Mr. Gardiner said.
“The reason I wanted you to meet them,” McDunn said, “is that Mr. Gardiner put two and two together when he heard my name and associated it with yours, Darcy. It turns out he was responsible for delivering those crossties for our Wylam test.”
“Ah!” Darcy said as he looked at Mr. Gardiner attentively. “That was a frustrating business, trying to get what we wanted. The artisans who work in metal are used to proper dimensions, but people who work in wood do not seem to be as far up what Major McDunn calls ‘the learning curve.’ My congratulations on doing the job correctly, Mr. Gardiner.
“You know, McDunn, before I met you, my life was so easy,” Darcy said to McDunn with an expression Mrs. Gardiner could not really interpret. “I could go riding and shooting whenever I pleased, I could take the time to listen to Georgiana play, or perhaps I could spend the odd evening at my club. Now, everything is complicated, and I am so involved with the intricacies of our business, I hardly have time to listen to my sister.”
