Page 4 of The Cheapside Runners
At long last, the door opened, and much to Darcy’s surprise, he found himself facing the master of the house. The man’s face was entirely inscrutable, though it was the type of inscrutability with a hard edge to it.
Darcy introduced everyone in the usual way, though doing so with both men still standing on the porch did not seem quite right. If Mr Gardiner wanted polite company, the least he could do was invite them in.
Gardiner spoke calmly, though Darcy got the idea that he spoke that way regardless of the situation, since he did not appear to be a man easily rattled. He had not batted an eye about pressing Wickham into the navy, after all.
“Gentlemen, I apologise for the late notice, but due to unforeseen circumstances, I shall need to cancel tonight’s dinner. You need not trouble yourselves to return. Your favour, such as it was, shall be considered paid.”
Darcy was stunned, while the colonel was simply confused.
“I do not understand,” the colonel opined, while Darcy struggled for something sensible to say, or in lieu of that, anything at all.
Gardiner continued, “Mr Darcy was attending as a personal favour, but it is no longer required.”
“Might you explain why, sir,” Darcy asked in confusion. “If there is a problem, we would happily return at a more auspicious time.”
Gardiner stared in an unnerving fashion, though Darcy was beginning to get a sinking feeling of dread.
“I admit, it is a rather unusual situation. Ten minutes ago, my nieces were dressed to the nines, looking pretty, and prepared to hunt bear with a penknife. They were sitting by the front window enjoying the evening breeze, happy as a pair of larks. Two minutes ago, they abruptly became… ah… indisposed… and said they could not possibly attend dinner, blaming their absence on some vague female problems that were obviously beyond my understanding. Why they were also beyond my wife’s understanding is beyond me, but there you have it. No dinner tonight, and I would not dream of dragging such fine gentlemen as yourselves such a distance a second time.”
Darcy groaned quietly, while the colonel laughed a bit. “Ah, hoisted by your own petard, eh Darcy?”
“I do not get your meaning,” Gardiner replied.
Darcy suspected he knew his meaning precisely and in detail and was just twisting the knife. “I suspect your nieces overheard some comments I made to my cousin. It was a private conversation, but if overheard, I doubt the discourse would be well received.”
“Private conversation, eh?” Gardiner asked pointedly. “Byprivate, I assume you were in your carriage, or your home, or in some other sealed room, or the deep woods. You wouldnot, for example, carry on aprivateconversation on a public street twenty yards from a house holding a lady with exceptional hearing!”
Darcy looked completely chagrined. He had not been called to task for quite some time, and truth be told, he was not enjoying the experience—though to be fair, he doubted the nieceenjoyed his conversation very much either.
“I am at fault for the situation, sir. I spoke out of turn, and not in a gentlemanlike manner. I was entirely in the wrong. I owe your nieces an apology at the very least. Do you suppose you might arrange for me to apologise at their convenience?”
Gardiner stared at him disconcertingly for quite some time. Darcy knew it was a tactic to make him nervous and did not much like comprehending that the man had a look that was every bit as effective as Eaton’s headmaster.
“When you mature, Mr Darcy,if you do, you will eventually realise that not everything can be solved with an apology. Shipbuilders have an old joke about how tight to make a bolt.‘Tighten it ‘til it breaks than back off half a turn.’That is how many men live their lives. Behave poorly until they are called to account, then slightly correct with an apology.”
Gardiner paused to ensure their rapt attention.
“In my line of work,many manyactions have consequences that are life-altering and irreversible. Most men think a pretty apology will get them out of their self-inflicted wounds. Society has placed us in a position of power and authority to the point where weexpectothers to accept our weak excuses for our poor behaviour—particularlythe women in our lives. Unfortunately, such easy forgiveness does nothing to improve our characters, so most continue giving offence all our lives, since any mistakes seem to be easily correctable.”
He stared hard at Darcy in particular. “My nieces have too much self-respect to accept a pretence of contrition.”
“It is not pretence!” Darcy stated emphatically.
“Unless you can convince me that whatever you said somehow came out of your mouth different than it appeared in your head, then I beg to differ.”
The colonel had been watching the exchange with a great deal of amusement, and decided to weigh in.
“He has you there, cousin. Inmyline of work, you cannot undo a bullet or bayonet—regardless of how you subsequently feel about the appropriateness of the shot. Some bells cannot be unrung, and some words cannot be unsaid.”
Darcy sighed. “I agree in the basic premise, but it allows very little room for self-correction or growth if one cannot make amends.”
Gardiner chuckled. “I doubt very much that your thinking process will be dramatically different a month hence based on whether or not you apologise to my nieces. If you wish to behave in a more gentleman like manner, buck up and take responsibility for your own attitudes. Try to change what happensinsideyour head rather than belatedly trying to fix the damage when it escapes. You missed this chance to do better, butthe nextopportunity will not be long in coming. If you wish to make amends, I suggest you do so pre-emptively with thenextyoung lady you are planning to disparage. If you find young ladies too much of a challenge, practise on your servants, or tradesmen, or relatives, or street urchins. Kindness is not as complicated as you seem to think.”
The colonel twisted the knife. “I admit I am not the best example to follow, but you could certainly pick a better muse than Lady Catherine.”
Darcy did not like that assertion in the least, but it seemed the die was cast so he would have to take his lumps. He wondered if he would return hat in hand to Cheapside a month hence, and if he would be sent packing a second time. He supposed time would tell, but there seemed little to be done immediately.
“I accept your censure, Mr Gardiner. It is well-earned. Do you suppose I might be able to make amends later?”
