Page 19 of Near Pemberley

They had continued speaking together for several minutes, longer than Darcy would once have believed either necessary or desirable.

Yet the effort did not oppress him as he had expected.

Mr. Gardiner’s observations upon the estate were intelligent without pretension; he admired what deserved admiration, but with the judgement of a man more interested in propriety and natural beauty than mere display. Mrs. Gardiner, meanwhile, possessed that rare ease of manner which neither flatters nor intrudes. There was sense in everything she said, and good humour in the manner of saying it.

Darcy found himself listening with genuine attention. Indeed, there was something in both of them which quietly unsettled several of his oldest prejudices.

They were evidently connected with trade; of that he could not doubt. Yet he had known many persons of far greater consequence whose manners possessed infinitely less refinement.

The reflection was not entirely comfortable. And perhaps for that reason, it remained with him.

“You are fortunate in the water here, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Gardiner after a pause, glancing through the long window towards the grounds below. “From the little I have seen of the stream, I should suppose it excellent for fishing.”

Darcy followed the direction of his gaze.

“The river is well stocked, sir, though I fear I neglect it more often than my steward approves.”

“Then your steward and I should disagree very amicably,” returned Mr. Gardiner with a smile. “For I think a gentleman entitled to such scenery may be forgiven a little negligence.”

Darcy almost smiled in return. “I shall remember your defence when next I am reproached for it.”

Mrs. Gardiner, meanwhile, had turned again towards one of the paintings. “And does Miss Darcy enjoy the country as much as you do, sir? If you do not mind my asking…”

“Not at all. My sister is attached to Pemberley,” Darcy answered, more readily than he usually spoke of private matters. “Though she has not yet learnt to prefer solitude as much as I once imagined myself to do.”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “You speak as though solitude were a difficult accomplishment.”

“Perhaps,” said Darcy after a slight pause, “it is only agreeable until one grows too accustomed to it.”

The words escaped him almost unexpectedly. The openness of the remark surprised even himself.

Mrs. Gardiner looked at him with a degree of attention which made him momentarily regret having spoken so openly. Yet before the conversation could proceed further, Mr. Gardiner said, “Our niece, who travels with us, would particularly have admired this room.”

Darcy looked towards him.

“Indeed?”

“She has a taste for this sort of prospect – and for walking. Lambton has pleased her exceedingly.”

There was something in the remark – something too slight to have attracted notice under ordinary circumstances – which nevertheless caused Darcy’s attention to sharpen.

“A niece?” he repeated.

“Yes. My sister’s daughter. She…”

At that instant, Mrs. Reynolds stepped forward with respectful urgency. “If you please, sir, the library remains to be shown.”

The interruption broke the moment entirely.

Darcy stepped aside at once.

“Certainly, Mrs. Reynolds. I must not detain you further.”

He bowed to the Gardiners. “I hope the remainder of the house may continue to please you.”

“It already has exceedingly,” said Mrs. Gardiner warmly.

“And not merely the house,” added her husband with evident sincerity.