Page 17

17. Balancing the Scales

Darcy looked up from the book he was pretending to read by the fire as his cousin entered the study. He had sent a note around to see if the colonel could make it but had not expected such a fast response.

“Richard, good to see you!” he said in greeting. “Tea? Brandy? Food?”

“Luncheon would not be amiss.”

Soams had followed the colonel in, so he turned immediately to see to it. They spent the next half-hour catching up on what little had happened in their lives since the last discussion with Bingley—starting with their recoveries from the blue devils, naturally.

They finally finished, so Darcy got to business.

“I asked you here to see if you care to participate in a rather disagreeable task.”

“When you put it like that, how can I resist? When do we start?”

Darcy chuckled with the small humour of the reply along with its utter predictability.

“When I dragged your ne’er-do-well brother to your father, I was thoroughly dissatisfied with both of them. As I suspect you know, your father thinks he is just sowing his wild oats, as is his right and privilege, and so on and so forth ad nauseum.”

The colonel grunted. “They say you reap what you sow. I would not be entirely surprised to find him floating down the Thames one day… but as they say, that is not my battle to fight.”

“Nor is it mine, but I did decide to do some pittance about it. I ah… encouraged him to give me the name of as many of his paramours as he could manage. Either he is a better liar than I expected, or the number is lower than I feared.”

“One is too many, but I suspect you are right. Gambling and drink are his primary vices.”

“At any rate, I set a discreet and reputable investigator to the task of finding the women. I thought I should at least ensure they are not starving in the gutter, and his offspring are not in the workhouse.”

“I would not be entirely surprised to find some of both the women and children in pauper’s graves.”

Darcy sighed. “He chose his victims carefully. He apparently would find it beneath him to bed a doxy or servant girl, and he apparently sated most of his appetites dallying with married women.”

“Not unheard of in the ton. Not everyone is as fastidious as you.”

Darcy shrugged indifferently. “My investigator found three. One is but five miles from here, so I thought to visit her.”

“And you think two Fitzwilliams are just the thing?”

“You have a better idea?”

“Send your man of business with hat in one hand and a hefty purse in the other.”

“I will not make another man shoulder my responsibility.”

“HAH! You have it bad, cousin. I hope this Miss Bennet is worth it.”

“I am not doing this to impress Miss Bennet. Mr Gardiner, maybe, but not her. I feel it is my duty.”

The colonel just chuckled. “Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

Darcy grumbled a bit, but there seemed little point in beating the subject to death, so they let it rest. Both men changed into their older hunting clothes. They were the closest thing to how Mr Gardiner dressed they could muster on short notice. Appearing in uniform or the first stare of fashion hardly seemed ideal for making a decent first impression.

~~~~~

Two hours later, the cousins looked out the carriage windows at Fleet Street, watching the bustling trade that epitomised far more of England’s prosperity than the first circles liked to believe. In a half mile they passed a plethora of printers, bookstores, attorney’s offices, businesses, clerks, servants, maids, taverns, newspaper boys, and general mayhem. It was as different from where they spent their time as could be, and yet, many thought it was more the future of England than the landowners.

When the carriage stopped at the Copper Kettle Coffeehouse, Darcy let out a hoot of laughter.

“What is so funny?” The colonel laughed.

Darcy continued chuckling. “I have been a hundred yards from here, just up the lane at John Murray’s Bookshop or the Albemarle Coffeehouse dozens of times… some quite recently.”

“Happenstance, I suppose. I would not get too excited at the coincidence. Based on Netherfield, I would not be overly surprised to find one of his offspring at Pemberley, and Matlock seems all but certain.”

Darcy grumbled but could not deny the assertion. They exited, girded their loins for battle, and entered the most ordinary coffeehouse in the world. It had the usual notice boards, newspapers, chalkboards with specials, a counter full of pastries, a few urns of coffee and tea, and a fireplace.

They arrived at three, which typically had a lull in business and were lucky to encounter only two occupied tables.

Behind the counter, they were encouraged to see a rather gruff looking man of about thirty who matched the description of the man they were looking for but equally dismayed to find a woman standing too close to be an employee. She was young, pretty, and she reminded Darcy very much of Jane Bennet.

The men had not thought the plan through very well. Darcy had hoped to approach the husband as seemed right and proper, and either avoid the wife, or at least allow her husband to soften the blow. The die was cast though, so after a glance at the colonel, he decided to just charge in, mostly because subtlety was not really his strong suit.

“Pardon me. We seek Mr Turner.”

“You have found him. State your business,” the man replied with a slightly gravelly voice.

“The business is of a rather personal nature. We would be happy to return at a convenient time,” Darcy replied, mentally kicking himself for not arranging the meeting in advance.

“Good a time as any. I’ve a small office just back here,” he said pointing to a door behind the counter.

The man stood from a stool, while the pretty woman handed him a crutch that had been unobtrusively leaning against the wall, and casually said, “My wife, Mrs Turner. She will accompany us, as she is involved in all my personal business.”

Darcy and Fitzwilliam had hoped to get off easy on the discussion through her absence, but with a shrug, both decided it was probably for the best anyway. Best to just rip the plaster off and get on with things.

As they entered the rather small office, Turner sat on another stool while Mrs Turner stood beside him. “Noticed you gents did not introduce yourselves. Whatever unpleasantness you have, let us get it over with.”

Darcy said, “I will beg your indulgence for just a couple of minutes. You will most likely wish to throw us out of your café on our ears as is obviously your right when we introduce ourselves, but I will humbly beg you to hear us out.”

Fitzwilliam added, “We give our word it will be to your benefit.”

Mr Turner turned his eye on Fitzwilliam and stared him down for a few seconds. “I was Sergeant Turner until I got invalided out a few years back. I can smell an officer from ten paces. As comrades in arms, I will give you five minutes.”

“We cannot ask for more,” Fitzwilliam said, then looked to Darcy, since this was his project, after all.

Darcy took a fortifying breath.

“I am Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire, and this is my cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. We represent the honourable side of the Fitzwilliam family.”

Mrs Turner shrank back slightly while Mr Turner stood up abruptly enough that they could tell he hurt his leg in the process, though he tried his best not to show it.

The colonel said, “Steady on, Sergeant. We mean you no harm and wish only to help.”

“I want no help from the likes of you!”

“That is your right,” Darcy said placatingly. “If you ask us to leave, you have our word we will do so, and the subject will be closed forever. I do ask five minutes of your time, if you would oblige.”

Mrs Turner spoke soothingly to her husband, indicating she was either more complacent or more practical.

“The Fitzwilliams have already done all the harm they are likely to do, Stanley. Let us not tar the whole family with the same brush.”

The colonel chuckled to try to reduce the tension. “You could tar most of the men in the family without being wrong, Mrs Turner. I do appreciate you hearing us out.” He left unsaid that he was just assuming she would calm her husband down.

Mrs Stanley helped her husband back to the stool, and while his face could still carve granite, he nodded to Darcy to continue.

“I recently learnt about my cousin’s… ah… proclivities. I have no excuse for why I failed to do so years earlier. I rarely speak to him, but I also did not go looking, much to my shame.”

“You cannot possibly be shocked by his behaviour,” Mr Turner snapped.

“I am not shocked, just saddened. I, of course, know that much of the ton acts very much as he does. I do not, as a rule, associate with such men. I knew my cousin was a gambler and that he dallied with certain classes of women who are willing or even eager for such attentions, but I had no idea of his actions with innocents.”

“Weak excuse, if you ask me.”

Fitzwilliam said, “Come Sergeant, we are men of the world. That leg is a fighting injury if I have ever seen one. You know how things work, so you cannot have been flabbergasted yourself.”

Turner shrugged to concede the point. Everyone knew he had probably had his share of dalliances in his time in the army, and it may not be the best time to start throwing stones, given that they all lived in glass houses.

Mrs Turner seemed to have a practical bent, so she turned the discussion back to the topic at hand. Darcy had no idea if she was being practical, or if she was only tired of watching a bunch of roosters crow at each other.

“We could debate this all day, but you must have a reason to come all this way.”

She said it with a bit of an impertinent tone that reminded Darcy of another Bennet lady, which did not hurt her cause at all.

“It is my understanding…” began the colonel. “…that you are presently raising my niece. Is that correct?”

The couple looked to each other, but Mr Turner finally nodded. “We are! We obviously do not expect any Fitzwilliam to acknowledge her, but she does carry your blood.”

“I will most certainly acknowledge her,” the colonel said emphatically. “I am not my brother!”

“We both will,” Darcy added.

The Sergeant shrugged. “Your private acknowledgement will do her little good and may do her harm if she starts getting lofty ideas when she is older. Your public acknowledgement would more likely bring the ire of the earl down on our heads, so I see little point in it.”

Darcy stepped in. “Hence, the purpose of this call. I will acknowledge her to any level you feel comfortable with, but I had a more tangible benefit in mind.”

“Such as?” Mrs Turner asked. She did not sound grasping, but no sensible mother would turn away anything that might benefit her children.

Darcy sighed. “Money cannot solve all the world’s problems, Mrs Turner, but it can ease some of them. She will grow, and you will have to decide how you want her to do so. I have no say in that matter, but with my help you may have avenues opened that are presently closed. Do you want her to be educated? If so, at her present class or a higher one? Do you want her to marry up, and if so, would she want it? Should she have a governess? A school? A better dowry? Connections to the gentry, even if public acknowledgement might do more harm than good?”

The lady had been staring at him hard enough to make him flinch, and he was certain she was absorbing every nuance of his offer.

She finally asked, “Are you offering this, Mr Darcy?”

“I am. She is my cousin, and niece to this man, who is closer to me than any brother. I cannot fix everything, but I can help.”

Mr Turner finally asked, “What do you expect in return?”

“Nothing,” Darcy said.

The colonel added, “We expect nothing, but I would like to humbly request we be allowed to know her as she grows.”

The couple looked back and forth and finally nodded.

“I cannot promise if or when you might see her, but we shall accept your help for the others. We can discuss more as time goes by. We presently do not plan to enlighten her as to her parentage, and that seems unlikely to change.”

The colonel said, “I understand your reasoning, and it all makes perfect sense. Perhaps, we need not know her per se. When she grows a bit older, perhaps you can simply arrange to have her here when we coincidentally stop by for coffee.”

“That seems reasonable,” Mrs Turner said quickly enough that Darcy suspected she wanted to keep her husband from reacting without thinking it through.

Darcy said, “That seems a reasonable way to begin. If all goes well, perhaps we could be engaged in some sort of business, or we could be distant relatives. There is plenty of time to work that out later.”

Darcy thought things had gone well thus far, so he reached into his pocket for a bank draught he had already written out.

“I took the liberty of making an advance of ￡500. You may use it as you choose, for your daughter, any other children you may have, or whatever you like. If you run out, here is my card. You need but ask.”

“That seems… overly generous, Mr Darcy,” Turner stated. “Might you have some ulterior motive?”

“A man ought not try to judge his own motives, Sergeant. Honour or guilt are sufficient to explain my actions, so I shall leave it at that.”

“Once you have worked out your motives, sir, you might tell me her name,” Mrs Turner observed with a level of impertinence that definitely reminded Darcy of someone.

The colonel burst out laughing and slapping his thighs and was joined by the others, even including Darcy.

“You have the right of it, Mrs Turner. I told him he has it bad.”

“We shall see,” was all Darcy was willing to say.

“I am curious,” the colonel added. “You seem to be well-situated here. Would I be too nosy if I asked how you went from the disagreeable state my brother left you in, to this?”

The levity went out of the room, for which the colonel was sorry, but he wanted answers more than comfort. They could always laugh, but they might not ever get a good chance to ask the question, as it was not a topic any of them ever wanted to discuss again.

Mrs Turner looked to her husband and waited for him to nod. Darcy thought it was more a nod of agreement than one of permission but considered his knowledge of women inadequate to say it with any certainty.

“My father cast me out, mostly. I have two sisters so I could not necessarily blame him, and he at least paid the fees for the home and left me a bit to live on after. He even said I might return if I gave up the babe, but I would as soon give up an arm.”

“No one can blame you.”

“There you are wrong, Colonel. A considerable number of people can and have blamed me.”

“Pray continue,” Darcy suggested.

“Someone found me in a group home for women in my condition. They are on a mission to find husbands for as many of us as could be managed. Invalided soldiers were an easy target, as there are hundreds arriving every day, but that brought its own problems. Many are unable to even function, and most are penniless, or they would not have been fighting in the first place… no offence, Colonel.”

“None taken.”

She continued, “As I said, almost none are flush enough to take on a pregnant wife and raise another man’s child.”

“That was my situation,” Mr Turner added. “Our rescuers are not made of money, but they had enough to loan us the purchase of this coffeehouse. It is a kindness since we did not earn it, but we will pay it back over ten years, so it is not quite charity. Our benefactor will not get rich off our backs, but they will not lose much either. The coffee house plus the small dowry her father left us is sufficient to live well enough.”

“You have a pretty and intelligent wife, and hardly anybody shooting at you… sounds like Paradise,” the colonel quipped.

“I am all astonishment,” Darcy said. “It seems such a simple system. I wonder if I might do the same. To be honest, I give considerable funds to charities, but doing something like that never occurred to me. I mostly just throw money at the problem.”

“Can you tell us the name of the man who helped you?” the colonel asked. “If my cousin is champing at the bit to spend his money, we may as well strike while the iron is hot.”

The couple once again looked at each other, as if discussing whether to trust them with something that might bring trouble to someone else.

Mrs Turner finally answered, “We hesitate, gentlemen, because it is not a man, though it is entirely possible and even likely there is a man providing the funds for the endeavour. It is a young lady, and you know what they say about ladies’ reputations—”

“That I do, Mrs Turner. You may tell us or not. If you do, we will use the utmost discretion in meeting her. We may even ask you to act as intermediary if you are willing.”

“Oh, I am willing,” she said. “I am more than willing. She saved my life. Miss Gardiner is an angel.”

The colonel was slightly startled by the admission, though not shocked because it seemed like the sort of thing that would go right along with Mr Gardiner’s business. A more cynical man might even look at it as a business opportunity.

Darcy was slightly more shocked. “By any chance, is she the daughter of Mr Gardiner of Gracechurch Street in Cheapside?”

“Why yes, do you know him?”

Darcy chuckled at the twists of fate.

“I do. In fact, I had recent business with him and ate at his house a month ago. I quite like the eldest Miss Gardiner, though I find it difficult to believe she is your benefactor, being all of twelve years old.”

The colonel was starting to put two and two together and chuckled while slapping Darcy on the back. “Got it bad, old man… Got it bad.”

Mrs Turner just looked confused.

Darcy sought to clarify. “Might Miss Gardiner be about twenty, average height, brown hair and eyes.”

“I suppose she would be about twenty now,” Mrs Turner asserted.

“Now?” the cousins asked in confusion.

“Yes of course. My daughter Betsy is three now. Miss Gardiner confessed she was but sixteen at the time.”

Darcy sat stunned for a moment with different things that had been said coming into focus. He had always thought he knew but a tenth part of Miss Elizabeth’s situation at best, but a hundredth part now seemed more likely. He thought he would need time to think about it and ask Gardiner a few discreet questions, but he most certainly did not want to break Miss Elizabeth’s anonymity.

“I think I understand,” he said. “That Miss Gardiner is, I believe, his niece.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Mr Turner added while his wife just nodded.

They were interrupted by a young boy who had been watching the shop informing them that business was picking up.

The Turners thanked them for their generosity and even arranged for both men to meet the child and have luncheon after church on Sunday.

Back in the coach, they had a good laugh. They both were somewhat happy with the way things had gone. The colonel knew more than he had at the start of the day. Darcy did as well, but he also had a great deal of speculation.

He knew of two of his cousin’s other victims, but neither was anywhere close, so he thought it was time for a conversation with Mr Gardiner… or possibly even a trip to Hertfordshire, with or without Bingley, who was still dithering.