Page 49 of The Cheapside Runners
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 losemuch 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.”
