Page 25 of Mr. Darcy’s Diamonds

“Do you have any in mind? Do you wish to continue with the same painting master?”

Elizabeth informed him she had made good progress under the master and would like to keep employing him if a suitable space could be found in the Gardiner home. He promised to speak with her aunt about making a room available.

“You will also need a maid, Lizzy. We have been sending a maid or footman with you when you call on the Bingleys, but you should have your own to care for your gowns and hair, as well as to chaperone you in your lessons when your aunt is not available.”

“Forgive me, Uncle. I should not have used your resources so carelessly.”

“No, Lizzy. That is not what I meant at all. Your Uncle Bennet has provided all the funds you need for masters and gowns and fripperies. You have plenty for a maid, as well. Would you not wish to choose someone you like, as you will spend a great deal of time with her?” At Elizabeth’s awed expression, her uncle said he would enlist his wife’s assistance in this, as well.

They continued to speak of additional masters and tutors, and Elizabeth left the conversation with excitement for the coming months.

Uncle Bennet sent a brief note to Uncle Gardiner authorizing him to undertake Elizabeth’s continued education. He apologized for his lack of response but admitted he did not know how to select appropriate teachers from such a distance.

By mid-September, Elizabeth’s days were fuller than they had been since her arrival in London. She now slept until seven or eight in the morning, then wrote letters to Longbourn and to Caroline, studied her lessons or practiced the pianoforte, and learned from her aunt about the household. They continued their discussion of menus and accounts as they ate breakfast together about ten o’clock before a master arrived most days by eleven.

Elizabeth worked with a teacher or on her own, sometimes until six or seven in the evening with only a brief break for a nuncheon of fruit or bread and cheese at three or four in the afternoon. She visited with her young cousins in the evenings and sometimes earlier in the day if she had time or her aunt had need of her. Then she sat at dinner with her aunt and uncle about eight each evening before they went out and she retired to her bedchamber to read or they stayed in and she played the instrument for their entertainment.

She felt the lack of Hertfordshire’s fresh air and open spaces, however. Elizabeth would have preferred to go for walks more often, but between the sights and smells of animal slaughter at Leadenhall Market and the congestion and lingering unease she felt closer to the Thames, she had few options. Matthew and her new maid, Dinah, escorted her on side streets that received little sunlight between their tall buildings, but the smoky air from coal stoves and the slippery mud on the foot-pavement made the exercise far less salubrious than staying indoors. Still, she had to go out every few days, as her earlier habits of movement could not be stifled completely.

One day Matthew pointed out the top of the nearby Tower of London, though he did not take her close enough to see much. Other times, they had walked into Cheapside and its environs—being careful to go south a bit before turning west, so they could avoid Leadenhall Market. Lombard Street, like Gracechurch, was full of carriages and wagons traveling between the docks and markets. Cheapside Street overflowed with a variety of tradesmen buying and selling at the many businesses in the area. Servants accompanied some brave fashionable women, as well.

Beyond Cheapside was St. Paul’s Cathedral and Churchyard, which she had thought was a park but was disappointed to find was only a dirt field used for public meetings; the two times they had walked that far, Matthew had insisted they turn back, citing the proximity to Newgate Prison as his reason. She did not learn until later that he did not want her to chance upon a public execution. She had never seen anything of the kind on all her carriage rides to visit Caroline, but perhaps they had traveled too quickly past or taken a different route. Even in the less disturbing parts of central London, she could not escape the calls of peddlers or shouts of cart drivers, the smells of animals or men, the dim choking air or inexhaustible industry that still felt so foreign to her.

On Cheapside Street not far from St. Paul’s, at Wood Street, Elizabeth was surprised to see a lone tree. Trees were rare outside of the parks in the wealthy neighborhoods. Matthew had indulged her desire to cross the street on their way back from the cathedral, so she could stand beneath the green branches and place her hands on the trunk.

Sometimes, her aunt gave her use of the carriage to go to one of the parks or squares to the west. Usually on these occasions, her aunt, the children, and Joan would accompany them, as well as Matthew and Eli. Dinah preferred to stay home or take her half day. Elizabeth took these rare chances to move quickly through the space, and only Matthew could keep up with her. She was grateful to her aunt for allowing her to leave the family party for half an hour or more.

She again thought longingly of the horse she had left behind at Longbourn and of the exhilaration of racing over the fields at home, but Rusty had never belonged to her, and Jane was likely giving him sufficient company. She forced herself to focus on the trees and grassy fields around her and watched other people ride their horses slowly through the park. She would not have been able to give Rusty his head even if he had come to London with her. He would find far less to be happy with here than she did.

Overall, Elizabeth really was content. Though she had no Mary and Caroline was away, Aunt Gardiner was becoming a closer friend. Elizabeth had not wished to upset her by mentioning her father and asking why the Gardiners allowed her to stay—or whether she would be forced to leave once the girls were old enough to understand more. They spoke of the children, though, and of her uncle’s work and her aunt’s charities. Her aunt also asked her about her embroidery and the books she read.

Caroline wrote to her at least once each week, and her studies were finally progressing again. Just as she felt nothing could intrude on her joy, though, an urgent message arrived for her uncle.

“Lizzy,” Uncle Gardiner said hesitantly after he had read the note. “Mr. Bingley has died.”

“Charles? What happened?”

“Not young Charles. His father. You know he closed up the townhouse a few days ago and was to return to his factories in the north?”

Elizabeth could only nod.

“He was almost home when he was thrown from his horse. He instructed his valet to inform me⁠—”

“Caroline!” Elizabeth suddenly realized her friend would be devastated. She recalled a similar scene only two months ago, when Georgiana had lost her father.

“Yes.” Uncle Gardiner sighed heavily. “She does not yet know. I am to go to her seminary to retrieve her. Her father’s man will have sent messages to Charles and to the Hursts on their wedding tour, but it could be some time before they are located.”

“Will you bring Caroline here?”

“I will. Would you like to accompany me to her seminary to offer comfort?”

“Certainly. I will be ready in ten minutes.”

Elizabeth had been overwhelmed by the crowd of fashionable young ladies she had met with at Caroline’s seminary, and she wondered why Uncle Bennet had not sent her away to school. Her thoughts had not been permitted to dwell on that topic, however, as her friend had been summoned and they had quickly traveled back to Gracechurch Street. Caroline’s things would be packed and sent after her with the expectation that she would not want to return to school this term.

Uncle Gardiner rode on the box with the driver to give the girls privacy, likely expecting Caroline to dissolve into tears. She did not cry, however, until she reached her guest bedchamber. Then she relied on Elizabeth to console and cheer her for the next several days.

Early one morning, Caroline received a message from Charles. Since his father’s departure from town, he had been staying with various friends in London so had only the night before heard of their father’s death.