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Mrs Gardiner’s chastisement seemed to have the opposite effect to that desired on her niece. Jane went pale and seemed on the verge of fainting. Her aunt laid hands on her and whispered to her urgently: “Jane you must be brave. Your family is depending on you. Mr Thorne is very different to your Mr Bingley, but your uncle has the highest respect for him. He comes from a much humbler background than your uncle but has built his business up from nothing. He spent years at sea before buying his own vessel. Edward says there is no cannier man in all of England.”

Jane had not swooned, but her breathing was fast and shallow. “Oh, Aunt! I could not! I always expected to marry for love!”

“Stop this at once, Jane! It is merely an introduction. I guarantee you, he will have dozens of women eager to marry him. I only ask you to be polite to him so as not to embarrass your uncle. If you do not encourage him, he will probably never return.”

These pronouncements were more soothing to Jane. She managed to regulate her breathing. After only a short interval, the men arrived in the parlour for tea, which Jane dutifully poured. Afterwards she sat down at the pianoforte and the Clementi sonatina was trotted out again, followed by several pieces selected from her aunt’s sheet music that Jane knew less well. Despite her less than stellar execution, each performance was greeted with polite applause from their guest. After what seemed an eternity, Mr Thorne announced his intention to depart.

After seeing their guest to his carriage, Mr Gardiner returned to the parlour, fully intending to discuss Mr Thorne’s admirable qualities, but a frown from his wife silenced him. Mrs Gardiner turned the conversation once more to Jane’s time at the Garths’. Having already discussed the characters of the children and their lessons after church, Jane related the family’s dinner routine, including their curious way of bringing the dishes to table one at a time.

“Ah!” said her aunt, “That must be service à la russe! I heard that is being popularized by Countess Lieven.”

Finally, Jane bethought herself to ask her aunt if she might borrow some of her sheet music. The pieces that the former governess had chosen, Jane explained, rather taxed her accomplishment in music.

Finally, the clock struck four, reminding Jane that she needed to return to Ludgate Hill before sunset. The carriage was called for. After an emotional farewell, Jane departed with Mick standing up behind.

“Well,” said Mr Gardiner to his wife as they waved goodbye to their departing niece. “How do you think that went?”

“You need to give her time to adjust. Her Mr Bingley is still very much in her thoughts.”

“That well, eh?” grimaced Mr Gardiner.

“Did Mr Thorne say anything of his impressions?”

“He said he is engaged elsewhere next week, but he has tentatively accepted my invitation for a fortnight, provided our niece is favourable. I am to write to him in Bristol, Wednesday week, to let him know.”

“Let me see what I can do next Sunday,” volunteered Mrs Gardiner.

Chapter 15: A state of flux

The day before, Elizabeth had awaited the arrival of the new bailiff at Longbourn with trepidation. After years of directing the men of the estate with her father’s blessing, she was not looking forward to having some arrogant and likely ignorant man telling her her business. She had spent the week since her uncle wrote that he had identified just the man, imagining the form of this ogre. All of her thoughts were completely confounded on Saturday when her uncle returned to retrieve his family accompanied by a fresh-faced young man. When the fellow stepped down from the carriage after her uncle, Elizabeth saw he was tall, but with such large hands and feet that she wondered if he had reached his full height. Modestly dressed, he carried his belongings in a burlap bag.

“Elizabeth!” hailed her uncle as she stepped down from the portico. “Let me introduce you to Harry Morecombe, who has agreed to try out as your bailiff.”

“Harry, this is your new mistress, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Hello, Harry,” said Elizabeth, holding her hand out in what she imagined to be a business-like fashion. “Welcome to Longbourn.”

After arranging a meeting with Elizabeth after lunch, Harry went off with the groom who had offered to show him his accommodation over the stable after dealing with Mr Gardiner’s carriage.

“Well, my dear, how are things going here?” asked Mr Gardiner of his niece, observing the conspicuous absence of his wife in the greeting party. “Has Madeleine gone off to Meryton to see your Aunt Philips?”

“No, Uncle. They are both upstairs with Mama who is feeling poorly this morning.” Elizabeth was about to add the children were in the back garden when the eldest came skidding round the corner on the gravel.

“Papa! We are playing leapfrog with Kitty and Lydia! Do come and play with us!”

“After lunch, Jemmy. I have to talk to your aunt.”

Mr Gardiner was not looking forward to this tête-à-tête, especially when his sister was clearly blue-devilled, but nor was he the sort of man to delay an unpleasant task—well, mostly. He had delayed writing to Mr Darcy all week with the vague hope that his sister might have latched onto a new scheme for her salvation in his absence.

“I’ll meet you in the library to discuss Harry, Elizabeth, just as soon as I’ve spoken to Frances.”

Mr Gardiner found the younger of his two sisters in her bedchamber in the throes of the vapours, attended by their sister Mrs Philips, who wielded a vinaigrette, and his wife, who wore a pained expression of long-suffering.

“Fanny,” he admonished, as he stepped into the room. “What is this? You promised you would try to bear up when I left last week.”

“Oh, Brother! How can I do so when you have failed to get Mr Darcy up to scratch?”

“I don’t entirely despair of getting some recompense from Mr Darcy in the form of a contribution to Lizzy’s dowry, Fanny. But you must put any thoughts of a marriage between them out of your mind. Mr Darcy is much better circumstanced than popular gossip around here supposes—quite above our touch.”