Blacksmith

Blacksmith

11 July 1812 Lambton, Derbyshire

Dearest Sisters,

What an unusual day I have had. We shall begin with the surprising but not alarming part. Uncle Gardiner acquainted himself with a local tradesman by the name of Mr Livingston. He is a very pleasant man of similar age who was known to Aunt Gardiner in their youth. He is softly spoken, well mannered, obviously fashionable, and educated. The two of them talked long into the night and even allowed my participation.

Even more exciting, they now propose a joint venture of sorts between the two of them and my employer, Mr Ellery. Uncle believes it may be quite profitable, and from what he could explain to me, it seems a very reasonable business.

Based on the desire for this mutual endeavour, Uncle has asked if we might stay on in Lambton for an additional fortnight. I am to resume employment with Mr Ellery, but I will be acting as clerk for discussions between the two men, and relaying messages hither and yon.

It is all very exciting, as I get to be involved in the very beginning of a new venture. I can hardly wait to begin. We are uncertain if Mr Ellery will join, but if not, Uncle says he will find another and will cover my wages himself—as if I would allow him to do so.

Now we come to the truly alarming part!

Before all this happened, I was out for my morning walk when I, quite by chance, ran into none other than Mr Darcy at the blacksmith shop. I imagine he must have had trouble with his horse on his morning ride as I can think of no other reason for him to not leave the care of the animal to his grooms. Why he was riding so close to Lambton when he has a nice estate five miles away remains a mystery.

Once again, I tried to avoid the acquaintance but was unable to do so with any degree of civility, but then the oddest thing happened. I am quite beside myself to explain it!

Mr Darcy greeted me most cordially and spent a quarter hour engaging in conversation! Conversation ! Mr Darcy ! I know that is repetitious, but I must write it several times just so I may believe it myself. I know we argued several times while Jane was sick at Netherfield, and of course we argued more in that atrocious dance at the Netherfield ball—but this was just plain, ordinary, unremarkable, surprisingly civil conversation, something like you might have with an indifferent acquaintance. I am all agog!

After the debacle at Matlock, I was nervous to even encounter him, but he was amiable and even on the chatty side. The transformation was astounding, and I despair to explain it. Pleasant conversation from a dog seems more likely than from that man. The effect was something like talking to a more erudite version of Mr Bingley.

By unspoken agreement, we did not discuss anything about Mr Bingley or the various sisters (mine, Mr Darcy’s, Mr Bingley’s), or anything else likely to cause consternation. We talked oddly enough of books and plays, and it was—dare I say—surprisingly pleasant. His manners were the best I ever observed, and I am reminded he is the only man of my acquaintance that does not seem to look down on my education (such as it is). I even engaged in a bit of impertinence by professing some opinions I do not actually possess, but he took it in stride and seemed to enjoy it .

I was initially eager to dismiss him, so I mentioned my aunt and uncle in trade, and even disclosed my current residence and employment, unable to think of anything that would end the conversation faster.

Astoundingly, he expressed interest in meeting my relatives and inquired about my clerk’s duties. Though I suspect he was merely being polite, even this level of civility was unexpected. I prevaricated about the introduction, sparing him the trouble of the acquaintance. I doubt any meeting would benefit either party.

At the end of the quarter-hour, we bid each other adieu, and I am surprised to find he no longer seems to hold me in quite such contempt. I have no idea what, if anything, I may have done to release him from his anger, but I will accept it as just one of the oddities of life. Perhaps he has a bad memory, or maybe seeing his sister well settled has softened his edges, or mayhap it is just being in a place where he is the master of all he sees and takes comfort in its familiarity.

All in all, it was an interesting, albeit uncomfortable experience. I obviously prefer not to repeat the encounter, but it was surprisingly cordial.

Your surprised sister, Elizabeth