Page 3 of To Love And To Cherish (Pride And Prejudice Variation #3)

To Mrs. Gardiner’s complete astonishment, two days later, the butler appeared in the morning parlor bearing a silver tray, upon which lay a visiting card. She took it up and there printed in fine script was the name: Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy .

“Well, I declare,” she murmured.

“Shall I show the gentleman in, ma’am?” the butler asked.

“Yes, at once. And send for tea, if you please.”

She rose, smoothing her skirts just as Elizabeth entered the room with a small stack of mending in her hands.

“Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner said, her voice composed but tinged with surprise, “Mr. Darcy is calling.”

Elizabeth smiled serenely. “I knew he would return.”

Mrs. Gardiner turned to her niece with a look of mild alarm. “Elizabeth, you did not have anything to do with this, did you? You did not invite Mr. Darcy back?”

Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “No, Aunt, of course not.”

“Then why,” Mrs. Gardiner pressed gently, “are you so utterly unsurprised? You speak as though his return were inevitable.”

Elizabeth’s expression brightened. “Because he loves the stillroom, Aunt. And I daresay he would be sorely disappointed if you did not invite him to work with us today, particularly after he went to such lengths to rescue me from that street urchin and see me safely home. Surely, after such gallantry, he has earned not only admission to your stillroom but the benefit of your instruction as well?”

Mrs. Gardiner studied her niece’s face a moment longer, then said with gentle reproach, “Elizabeth, I had meant to mention, swatting a gentleman’s arm is quite beyond the pale.

It is not becoming in a young lady of your station.

You are a gentleman’s daughter, and must conduct yourself with proper decorum. ”

Elizabeth looked up, unrepentant. “Very well, Aunt. But it is only Mr. Darcy. He does not seem the least concerned with propriety.”

The butler opened the door, and the gentleman himself entered, hat in hand, his dark coat perfectly cut, a parcel tucked beneath his arm.

Both ladies stood and curtsied.

“Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner said warmly, “we are pleased to see you.”

He bowed. “Thank you for receiving me. I hope I do not intrude.”

“Not in the least,” Elizabeth said, eyeing the parcel. “Have you brought another book?”

“I have,” he said with a faint smile, stepping forward. “I found this at Hatchards on Piccadilly. The clerk assured me it is the most comprehensive and modern volume on herbal and holistic remedies yet printed.”

He extended the gift, which was bound in deep brown leather, tooled in gold, the paper edges gilded. Elizabeth took it reverently.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, tracing the binding with her fingers. She opened the book. “It’s organized by disease, how useful!”

She flipped quickly to a page, eyes scanning.

Mrs. Gardiner laughed. “Lizzy! Let us have a seat first and have our tea while it’s still hot. You forget your manners. You have not even greeted Mr. Darcy properly nor thanked him for this one-of-a-kind gift.”

Elizabeth colored. She slipped her finger into the page to hold her place, closed the book, and offered her hand. “Mr. Darcy, I thank you with all my heart. I have never seen a book like this, nor imagined I could ever possess one.”

“I am very glad you like it,” he replied with sincerity.

“Will you sit here beside me, Mr. Darcy? There is a diagram of the gallbladder, the liver, the pancreas, and the stones.” She opened the volume again and angled it so he might see.

Without ceremony, he joined her on the settee. “Here,” he said, pointing. “The bile duct runs along this channel. When a stone lodges here, it may block the passage and cause intense pain.”

Elizabeth leaned in. “That explains why Aunt Madeline’s tincture of chamomile and peppermint is so helpful; it eases the spasms when the bile cannot flow.”

The tea tray arrived then, and Mrs. Gardiner poured, observing with quiet amusement as the two bent over the book like brother and sister, puzzling through a map.

Darcy read aloud the topmost remedy: “Mrs. Stephens’ Formula: Charred eggshells, charred snails, and Alicante soap.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her brow. “That sounds dreadful.”

He laughed. “No doubt. But perhaps it serves a purpose?”

Elizabeth considered. “Dr. Edgerton in Meryton prescribes charcoal powder to draw inflammation from festering wounds. I wonder if the charred eggshell and snail are effective on the same principle.”

“Adsorption, perhaps?” Darcy mused. “Drawing impurities out?”

Mrs. Gardiner sipped her tea and smiled over the rim of her cup. For the next hour, the parlor buzzed with cheerful discourse, their heads bent together as they scoured page after page.

At last, Mr. Darcy glanced at the clock and rose abruptly.

“I have overstayed my welcome by three-quarters of an hour,” he said with an apologetic smile. “My father would be mortified.”

“Never fear, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “We shall not write to inform him.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Nor publish it in The Times. ”

In the pause that followed, Mrs. Gardiner took the opportunity to address the young man.

“Mr. Darcy, you are most welcome to join us in the stillroom whenever your schedule permits. Our hours are rather early, I must confess, and I daresay you are more often to be found on horseback at such times. But each morning, from seven until nine, Elizabeth and I devote ourselves to the work in order to keep pace with the needs of the orphanage. If ever you are inclined to try your hand at compounding, distillation, and other extraction techniques, you shall find our door open.”

Darcy inclined his head, his eyes alight with interest. “Thank you, ma’am. I should very much like to take you up on that.”

Then Darcy turned to Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, thank you for your company and your insights. I hope you will enjoy the book.”

“I’ll be reading it cover to cover, beginning this evening” she promised. “And treasure it always.”

He hesitated a moment longer, then looked to Mrs. Gardiner. “May I ask something of you, ma’am?”

“Of course.”

“As Miss Bennet and I seem rather like cousins in our academic pursuits, would you permit us to use Christian names in private conversation?”

Mrs. Gardiner raised her brows but found no reason to object. “Very well. So long as it remains within the bounds of propriety.”

He turned back to Elizabeth, offering a slight bow. “Goodbye, Elizabeth.”

She curtsied, eyes alight. “Goodbye, William.”

When the door closed behind him, Elizabeth clutching her new treasure, looked up and said softly, “I told you he’d return.”