Chapter 4

In a separate room in the house Elizabeth was also thinking about the day and the discussions with her sisters. What she had not told her sisters was how she assisted her uncle, and had done for the whole year. She sat in her bed thinking about the discussion with him back during the winter of the previous year, nearly a full 12 months earlier.

“Elizabeth, we need to have a long discussion. I am sorry to burden you this way but I need to talk to you about serious matters.”

Elizabeth found herself sitting up straighter in the chair. This seemed heady stuff for a 16 year old young woman.

“When you first relocated to London to assist me and the family we talked about how my competitors were reacting to my injury. There was nothing personal but they were looking to take advantage of me, my situation and to win business off me. We have weathered that immediate challenge but I want to talk to you about the future. The first thing we must talk about is your involvement with Gardiner Import/Export. You are doing a great job running the house, helping to raise my children and ensuring that I do not over-exert myself. I knew you were a capable young lady but this has been great. I know that Maddy would have been very proud of the way you are treating and raising the children.”

Elizabeth smiled a watery smile and dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief.

“What has been a huge boon to my business is that you are prepared to go to the office and even the warehouse on a regular basis. Despite everything that happened last summer it was the business’ best year. I am now at the stage of asking you, asking you mind not demanding of you, whether you would like to continue to be involved?”

Elizabeth’s initial reaction was to immediately agree, but she quashed that impulse and instead asked some questions.

“Do you wish me to be involved?”

“Yes, I do. You are family and I know I can trust you.”

She thought of the initial lessons she had learned at his side.

“What are the reasons not to agree?”

Her uncle, although smiling ruefully, looked proud.

“It will be difficult for you. I will be blunt, there is no point in couching anything in mild language. Men do not believe women are as smart as them.”

Elizabeth almost stood up in indignant shock.

“Steady Lizzie, that was my fault. Nearly all men, rather than all of us. I am asking you to help me, to be my daily eyes and ears. What I am trying to explain, poorly mind, is that it will be unpleasant at times. When I spoke to colleagues, fellow traders, customers, buyers, it seemed a universal condition. I would listen to Maddy’s counsel here in the house and she gave me a very different perspective. It was not that one or other of us was smarter, it was much more a reflection of our different upbringings, our different experiences. It is self-fulfilling to state that women are not as smart as men when they are excluded from the chance to prove otherwise. If you help me as I wish you to, then you are going to see, hear and be exposed to that attitude constantly. And this has nothing to do with the whole gentry versus those of us in trade issue. Tradesmen are just as bad as the Prince Regent when it comes to their treatment of women.”

Elizabeth had settled and considered her uncle’s words carefully.

“Would you be giving me this opportunity if you could walk?”

Edward Gardiner grimaced at his niece’s blunt question. And the tone. He smiled sadly.

“That is the very point Lizzie. I am telling you the reasons why you should not agree and you respond with a question about the opportunity.”

They sat in silence for an awkwardly long time. It was not that long as measured by seconds but it was interminable as their minds whirred. Mr. Gardiner broke first and spoke quietly.

“If I had not been injured then I would still be so grateful for your help with my children. The honest answer is that I would not expose you to all that world of trading, all the comments, all the things that would annoy you intensely, because you would not be accepted. It is only my injury that will gain you even token acceptance.”

The silence was only momentary this time and Elizabeth came over and knelt beside her uncle.

“I am sorry that for me to gain this opportunity you have been so grievously wounded.”

She stood and kissed his forehead, before returning to her seat.

“Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?”

He smiled at her earnest expression.

“I would like you to use the talents God has bestowed on you. I want you to watch, do more than watch, to observe, think about what it means.”

“Can you give me an example?”

“I can give you many. The most important is not to say anything. Never add anything to a conversation. If you are asked a direct question then you should respond. But the answer in nearly every case should be ‘I need to check with Uncle Gardiner’. That is your default response to any and all questions. I want you to say it so often that people no longer even bother asking you the question.”

He smiled at Elizabeth’s incredulous expression.

“But I want you to listen to everything carefully. You are presenting an image of not being clever. We both know that you are very clever so I expect there will be conversations in front of you, or where you can hear, that should have been held in private.”

His heart warmed at the sly and mischievous smile that blossomed on his niece’s face.

“I can see you understand. I will buy you several notebooks, I want you to start making notes about everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. Another example for you. One of my competitors arrives at the office to drop off some documents, or to view some merchandise. How does he look? How has his valet turned him out? Well-tailored? Shiny boots? What is his carriage like? The horses? The brasses? How attentive are his coachman and footman? Are they looking well fed? Is my competitor? All the things that society ladies spend their time doing against their female competition, I want you to do the same with everyone you deal with. That is the first thing.”

Elizabeth looked like she was ready to head to the office right at that moment, she could not wait to start.

“The other thing I want you to start doing is reading the papers very carefully. Information is vital in making money, and I want you to be a second pair of eyes for me. I get several papers, magazines and journals and we are going to subscribe to more. We will compare our thoughts every Sunday when you return from church. I want you to be as knowledgeable about the world as you are with my ledgers. Because that knowledge will help make the business more successful.”

With a smile Elizabeth stood and held out her hand.

“Deal.”

Edward Gardiner laughed and shook the hand of his irrepressible niece.

--

As she lay in bed a year later the conversation still made Elizabeth smile. And at the same time want to curse like a drunken sailor at all these fools. The whole year had been a balance of these two extremes. Annoyance, often extreme levels of that emotion, that she was ignored, belittled, all but patted on the head, in her dealings that were in any way connected to her uncle’s business. It was amazing the consistency of the, the. She struggled to find the right word. It was not disdain. For there to be disdain there had to be ‘dain’, presumably a corruption through the years of deign. It was as if all men suffered under the same delusion.

‘The sun? What do mean the sun? What big ball of light in the sky, I cannot see any such thing.’

This appeared to be men’s universal attitude to intelligent women, or at least to the concept of women being competent at any kind of business. And that was before the supercilious and demeaning attitude of so-called gentlemen, sniffing and worrying about the ‘taint of trade’. Elizabeth took her revenge in the best way possible. She helped her uncle beat them at business, to earn more money, to be better connected, to have more customers, whatever the measure was Elizabeth wanted Gardiner Import/Export to be the best.

Within her family it was universally agreed that Elizabeth could do nothing in an indifferent manner. She would throw herself into any task to the best of her ability. If she had no ability, as was immediately evident with her art lessons, then she would stop at once. But where she had an interest, and even a modicum of talent, then she was a diligent student. So she had demonstrated with this opportunity from her uncle throughout 1808. And here at the start of a new year she was impatient to build on the lessons of the just completed year. Little did she know just how exciting it was going to be.

--

“Mr. Hatchard, do you know that young lady?”

The owner of the eponymous bookshop looked in the indicated direction.

“I do Lady Maria; her name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Would you favour me with an introduction please.”

“Of course.”

Leaving one of his clerks at the front desk they walked over to Elizabeth.

“Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth turned to see the proprietor standing beside her with another, older, lady.

“Mr. Hatchard.”

“I would like to introduce you to Lady Maria Leonard. Lady Maria, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

The unexpected introduction caught Elizabeth by surprise but she remembered her manners and curtsied, an action copied by the lady in front of her.

“Thank you Mr. Hatchard.”

John Hatchard recognised the dismissal for what it was, bowed and left the two of them to talk.

“I apologise for rather forcing the introduction Miss Bennet, but I have an odd question for you.”

Elizabeth, unsure how to respond to such a statement, decided on a nod and smile. Lady Maria took a deep breath, suddenly appearing reticent.

“Did you rescue a child from the middle of this very street six months ago?”

Elizabeth, on the back foot throughout the conversation, was now mentally flailing. How on earth had this unknown lady learned about the incident? It would never do to lie so she squared her shoulders and nodded.

“I did.”

She acknowledged the incident but was definitely going with ‘less is more’ in her responses. The two word response brought a smile to the lady’s face.

“That is what I get for asking such a direct question. Relax Miss Bennet, I merely wish to thank you for rescuing my niece. Her mother was excessively distraught at the time and you slipped away before you could be thanked. When I first noticed you in the shop I was struck by a sense of familiarity but I could not initially place it. That the rescue was just down the street from this shop finally jogged my memory. I thought the small impoliteness of our introduction was much less important than giving you my thanks. And through me, the thanks of my extended family.”

Elizabeth listened to the explanation and relaxed, slightly. She had been unaware of the tension in her shoulders until she felt it leaving. This was a grand lady and the whole exchange could have been much more interrogative.

“Whilst I acknowledge and am grateful for your thanks Lady Maria, it is unnecessary. I only did what anyone would do in a similar situation.”

Rather than get into a low-key debate about the necessity, or otherwise, of the thanks, especially in a public place, Lady Maria suggested a change of venue.

“I do not wish to interrupt your browsing but maybe we can continue this conversation elsewhere. There are several tea shops on Old Bond Street.”

Elizabeth knew that she had no choice in the matter, despite her reluctance. She would just have to return to Hatchard’s after this unforeseen break. She motioned to her maid and told her of the change in plans. Lady Maria noticed a footman drop into place beside the maid as they crossed Piccadilly. When they entered the tea shop she again noticed that Elizabeth pressed a coin into the maid’s hand allowing them to partake in a beverage as well. Once their order had been taken the conversation resumed.

“Will you tell me the tale from last July please?”

Elizabeth recognised that her earlier concern about an interrogation was looming ever larger. With an internal sigh she marshalled her thoughts about that July day.

Elizabeth had been quietly walking along Piccadilly. Her uncle’s carriage had stopped to let her alight at Piccadilly Circus and was waiting further along the road at Green Park. The street was busy and this way she could browse without the carriage getting snarled up in all the traffic. Claire was beside her while Robert was, as usual, their discreet shadow, a few paces behind them. The warmth relaxed Elizabeth and she knew her uncle had been right to chivvy her out of the house.

“Come on Lizzie, you need a break. Even the children say you have been working crazy hours. Please do not make me force you.”

Elizabeth had huffed but she knew her uncle was right. Ever since the death of General Moore and the defeat at A Coruna she had been scavenging for information about Galicia. Late the previous week she had found out that the Spanish had successfully forced the French out of the Kingdom. She and her uncle had spent hours talking about the possibilities if Galicia was under Spanish control. Since then the discussions had intensified resulting from that action. But as Uncle Gardiner had said, there had been precious few free hours in the last three months.

“As always, you are right uncle. What would I do?”

Edward Gardiner smiled and quietly chuckled.

“Really Lizzie? You need me to tell you what to do? It is a beautiful summer’s day, but at the same time there is quite a breeze. That should keep the smell down. Why do you not head up into the more fashionable parts of the city? You could stop at Hatchards and see what catches your eye amongst the new books, and you promised my sister that you would search for her favourite preserve at Fortnum and Mason.”

So Elizabeth had a plan and had set off to enjoy the day. Thus her current leisurely stroll west along Piccadilly towards the two shops. It was early summer and although members of the Ton were starting to head to their country estates to escape the heat, and smell, of the capital, the street was still busy.

“You do not spend much time here Miss Elizabeth, other than when your sisters are visiting.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips at her maid’s question. She was not sure that Claire was a maid anymore, she was more of a companion.

“Part of the reason is in your very statement Claire. I would be on my own. I admit that I enjoy the two weeks each quarter when Mary or Jane spend time with me. If only to remind me that I am a lady.”

She gave a mirthless chuckle.

“I will spend an hour or two strolling along Paternoster Row when I get the chance. It is more, I am not sure how to describe it, maybe the right word is real.”

“Real?”

“Everyone who shops there is more interested in the books than being seen by others. Look ahead of us, across the road there, everyone is looking to see and be seen rather than going about their business. In fact, that is their business. A large part of society appears to be all about showing off to the rest of society.”

She shrugged.

“It all seems rather pointless.”

Claire wondered at Elizabeth’s jaundiced opinion. Such cynicism at just 18 years of age seemed sad. Yet at the same time she could not counter the arguments. Both their thoughts were abruptly wrenched back to the present as, without warning, there were several sudden shouts and a scream. They both turned in time to see an extremely tall piece of timber fall from a building just behind them. It was on the south side of the street, they were walking on the north side, and so they saw the last half of the descent. The timber was one of the key support beams from a building that was starting to be demolished.

For a moment Elizabeth was frozen, terrified at what she saw. She was having a flashback to something that was not a memory, just her own imagination. As she saw the huge piece of timber fall with an inexorable inevitably, all she could imagine was the death of her aunt, crushed in the same capricious manner. It was only for a second or two, just the length of time it took for the timber to crash onto the street. Miraculously, the beam had not crushed any people. Sadly two horses were not so lucky, one was still but the other was screeching in pain. This frozen montage lasted for another moment and then chaos erupted all around them.

Only later back at Gracechurch Street were they able to get even an approximate understanding of what followed. It took their uncle more than an hour of questioning all three of them to paint a complete picture, as each person’s perspective was subtly different.

The immediate danger was not anything else to do with the building but rather the horses and carriages on Piccadilly. The echo of the huge crash, the resultant cloud of dust and manure, the human screams, the shouts of ‘fire’ and the ghastly squeals of the dying horse, there were just way too many attacks on the nerves of even the best trained horses. Claire and Robert pulled Elizabeth into the doorway of a building as coachmen desperately tried to control their charges. Later they could not agree how many coaches rushed past but there were several. In among all this confusion Elizabeth saw a terrifying sight. It was as if they were restaging the accident that claimed the life of her aunt. A small girl had become separated from the adults responsible for her safety. Elizabeth heard the creaking of the wagon, saw the ropes start to part. With no regard for her own safety Elizabeth rushed over and pulled the child away. She was back in the doorway with the child almost before either Claire or Robert had time to react.

“Miss Elizabeth, are you okay?”

“I am fine.”

“You could have been crushed.”

As soon as Claire uttered the words the barrels fell from the wagon and shattered on the ground.

“I am back and I am safe. I was not going to stand here and watch a small child get crushed to death like my aunt.”

This last was said in a hissed whisper while she covered the child’s ears. It was unnecessary as the young girl was crying her eyes out. It took Elizabeth a minute or two to calm the child and get her name.

“Louisa.”

“How old are you Louisa?”

“I will be six in October.”

Attempts to find out her family name were not successful.

“We need to find her.”

Elizabeth stopped. Find the person responsible for her, but who would that be? The young girl was in very fine clothes, clearly she was the daughter of a wealthy family. She might be out with her mother, or indeed both her parents, but it was more likely to be a nurse or governess.

“Let us see what we can find.”

The falling beam had partially blocked the street preventing any traffic from heading west. The north side of the street was a mess of blocked and jammed carriages and wagons. The coach- and draymen had the horses calm and under control but they were a tangled mess. Fortunately the shout of ‘fire’ had been premature and the situation could be calmly resolved without additional worries of a fire spreading. One long look was all it took for everyone to realise that they were on the calmer side of the accident and to continue walking west.

The collapsing beam had impacted on the street and so in addition to settling dust, there was also a more pungent aroma than normal in the air. It encouraged a purposeful gait. It was the footman Robert that spotted the family.

“Miss Elizabeth, over there.”

She followed his arm and saw a large group on the other side of the street. There appeared to be five children, assorted footman and nurses, together with two older ladies. Even as they crossed the street and drew closer Elizabeth saw panic start to spread amongst the group as they searched for the missing child.

“Is that your family, your mama?”

Elizabeth’s question was spoken quietly to the child in her arms. She in turn looked up and immediately started wriggling in Elizabeth’s arms.

“Mama!”

One of the ladies spun round and when she saw the girl you could see her whole posture relax, just for a moment. It was definitely ‘blink and you will miss it’.

“Louisa, you are safe.”

Elizabeth carefully lowered the wriggling girl to the pavement and she was off on her short legs to her mother. Elizabeth could understand how she had ended up in the middle of the street. It was clear that she was not a child that liked to be held.

“Where were you? I thought you had been crushed.”

Now that the child was safe the questions started. The child Louisa looked up at Elizabeth.

“She was in the middle of the street, just over there. I do not know how she came to be separated from the rest of her family.”

This was a very edited version of the incident. Rather than respond to Elizabeth the mother turned and started berating her staff. It was turning into a spectacle and Elizabeth glanced at the group and made her mind up. When she spoke she did so quietly, almost a whisper.

“I wish you a good day.”

--

Elizabeth did not recite anything to do with her own family, rather starting the tale from the moment of the huge beam falling into the street. She did make sure to include her quiet comment of departure so that she could not be accused of being impolite. Her audience sat quietly, Elizabeth could see the lady was processing what she had just heard with what she had been previously told and witnessed.

“It was a frantic few minutes. You paint an accurate, yet incomplete, picture of the event.”

“You were there?”

Lady Maria smiled.

“Yes I was there with my sister-in-law.”

Elizabeth flushed.

“My apologies for not recognising you in the same way that you recognised me.”

Lady Maria waved it away.

“You were focusing on my niece and her mother, I understand. I have many nieces and nephews but little Louisa is a particular favourite. She reminds me of myself at the same age.”

Elizabeth smiled at the small human moment. She was suddenly drawn to the lady’s surname. The name Leonard seemed very familiar, but her mind was spinning and it was not coming to her. She made a bland conversational gambit.

“I am glad that she is safe.”

“What you did not say, although my sister-in-law and I both saw it, was that you pulled my niece out of the way mere moments before a wagon shed its load on that very spot. That was incredibly brave.”

Again Elizabeth struggled to find the right words in response.

“Thank you. I did what was necessary.”

This comment, although another bland nothing, seemed to draw a line under the incident as Lady Maria changed tack.

“Are you a resident of London or are you just visiting Miss Bennet? Where is your father’s estate?”

This was the more familiar cut and thrust of society life. Elizabeth had to suppress a smile. Or was it a grimace.

“My father is a minor country squire; his estate is in Hertfordshire.”

Factually accurate without fully answering the question.

“So you are just visiting? It is a wonderful coincidence that our paths crossed.”

Elizabeth knew that she was never going to get away with less than a full accounting. Mayhap this would bring the interrogation to an end.

“My uncle is a widower, injured in the same accident that claimed the life of my aunt, his wife. She was crushed to death when a tun was displaced. My uncle lost his legs in the accident. I now live here in London, assisting him in raising their children, my cousins.”

Elizabeth saw the first flash of compassion as she told her story, but was surprised when she saw a second, longer look on Lady Maria’s face.

“The accident five months ago must have brought back very painful memories.”

Elizabeth did not trust her voice and merely nodded.

“I would like to invite you to tea. Are you free later this week?”

Elizabeth sighed, making no attempt to stifle it.

“Thank you for the generous offer but I feel I must decline. My uncle is my mother’s brother and he is in trade.”

There was no point in getting into any of the details. The barrier between them was too high. Elizabeth watched in surprise as Lady Maria thought about how she had responded. She expected an immediate end to the conversation and was astonished that it had not happened.

“Allow me time over the festive period to consider this. Can you give me your directions? I will send a note in the New Year.”

Elizabeth passed over her address on Gracechurch Street and after they parted never expected to hear from Lady Maria Leonard ever again. She may have been polite but a Lady was never going to associate with someone bearing the stench of trade. Claire walked beside her with Robert behind them.

“That Lady is used to getting her own way.”

Claire cut to the chase. Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

“You are right. My leisurely browsing through Hatchard’s has now become rather more of a standard shopping trip. I need to find a book for my father and it seems, oh I do not know, more of chore now. Meeting this Lady has thrown my mind into a muddle. I do not even know what her connections are.”

“Do you mind me asking her name?”

“Of course not, maybe you can help me. She was introduced as Lady Maria Leonard.”

Claire stopped in the street.

“Miss Elizabeth, you really do not know who she is?”

Elizabeth could feel her heart starting to beat faster, a physiological response to Claire’s panicked face. She shook her head.

“Miss Elizabeth, Lady Maria Leonard is the sister of the Duke of Richwood. Did you rescue one of his children?”

This revelation shattered the last piece of Elizabeth’s composure. There was no way she was capable of calming browsing Hatchard’s now. The three of them walked quickly along Piccadilly to the carriage and returned to Gracechurch Street. As they walked past Fortnum and Mason she remembered the last part of the day of the rescue.

Claire and Robert had been waiting outside Fortnum and Mason and so Elizabeth rejoined her staff and entered the store. The entrance was busy with onlookers and gossips so they slipped past them deeper into the store.

“We all need to bathe. Let us buy the preserve and return to the carriage.”

There was no disagreement and so after buying two jars for her mother they left by the Jermyn Street entrance to avoid the disruption, dust and smell on Piccadilly. Eventually they were reunited with the carriage and returned to Gracechurch street for a very welcome bath.

Compared to that warm and pungent July day, the trip back to Gracechurch Street was cold, although there was a winter freshness to the air. Claire sat opposite Elizabeth waiting for her to speak. Elizabeth valued Claire’s opinion and so recounted all of the conversation.

“I think you are right Miss Elizabeth. Lady Maria has thanked you on behalf of the family. I do not see any way that she, or they, will maintain the connection.”

Elizabeth nodded and let her frustration with the day go. Frankly she wished that she had waited a day for her trip to Hatchard’s as she could have completed her Christmas shopping without all this drama.

Across town Lady Maria Leonard sat with her youngest sister and recounted her day, focusing on the conversation with Miss Bennet. Although the oldest, Maria Leonard was the only one of her siblings that was unmarried. She thought back to the end of the incident back in July, recalling the final conversation.

“Hang on a minute, where is the young lady that rescued Louisa and returned her to us?”

Her sister-in-law was looking about. The oldest of her six children there, Jane, replied.

“She wished us a good day and left. I think she was scared of your shouting.”

Jane’s mother was about to respond as indicated but in a moment of self-awareness remembered her position and took a deep breath.

“Did you see where she went?”

Several heads all shook, most importantly Jane’s.

“She headed in the direction of Hyde Park, but I did not see where she went.”

Lady Maria stopped her reminiscing, they had been unsuccessful in locating the young lady again that day. It had been sheer chance that she spotted Miss Elizabeth Bennet in Hatchard’s. Her sister drew her attention.

“Why was this Miss Bennet not thanked at the time?”

“Charlotte was upset, angry and relieved. All at the same time. Frankly, she was making a scene.”

Not making a scene was an important, almost the most important, way to behave.

“It is a terrible shame that she is burdened by relations in trade. You could have thanked her by easing her way in society.”

Lady Maria nodded absent-mindedly.

“I know that face. What are you thinking about?”

“Family.”