Page 12 of New World Tea Company
Turning toward the stranger, Elizabeth explained, “Charlotte and Maria are the daughters of Lady Lucas.”
Her attention returned to Lady Lucas as she continued, “I believe they invited him to the assembly and gave him the ticket he used that night. My mamma reported that Mr Wickham dined at Lucas Lodge the other night.”
“Mr Wickham is a polite gentleman of business visiting Meryton,” Lady Lucas replied with some coldness. She considered it a feather in her cap to have had the handsome man visit her home first.
Hearing the name George Wickham, the new gentleman remained silent but examined each person again carefully. The proprietor was a man of middle age, dressed in sturdy, relatively clean clothes; his face was friendly as a shopkeeper’s appearance should be. The matron was a woman dressed warmly with a bonnet upon her head. The basket on her arm was full of the cloth she had just purchased, and she held the handle tightly as though afraid someone would snatch it away. And the third person in the shop–the young woman–smiled gently at the older woman and the proprietor. She was dressed warmly for an early autumn afternoon in a print gown, bonnet, shawl, and boots that provided evidence she had walked along the muddy roads around Meryton. But her eyes remained bright with mirth viewing the current situation.
“There is a sudden influx of young men in Meryton,” the store proprietor said as he directed Lady Lucas out of the store. “First Mr Bingley arrives, then Mr Wickham appears as if by magic along with the militia officers, and now this third gentleman.”
Lady Lucas took her purchases and left the store; she would have new gossip to share at several houses between the store and the edge of the village. Once the matron was on her way, the proprietor closed the shop door, turned to Darcy, and asked, “Sir, I am George Rockland, and this is my establishment. How can I assist you this afternoon?”
Darcy doffed his hat and said, “Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire. I have come to visit with Mr Bingley at his estate…Nonefield is it?”
“The estate is named Netherfield,” Mr Rockland said to correct the gentleman.
“Yes, Netherfield,” Darcy replied though Elizabeth thought the man had known the proper name throughout the conversation. “I must arrive with a gift for the hostess, but I wanted something that was not personal.”
“Were you considering a book, sir?” asked the young woman, now named Elizabeth Bennet.
“A book is a personal gift; do you not think?” he asked in a serious tone, dismissing the girl from his thoughts.
However, she continued to engage him in conversation by replying, “Yes, and much appreciated if the recipient enjoys reading. My father and I regularly exchange books as gifts.”
Mr Rockland grinned and said, “Indeed. When new titles arrive, I always send a note to Mr Bennet, and that brings Miss Elizabeth to visit within a day or two.”
“Perhaps the Gibbon would make a good gift for Mr Bingley at some point,” Mr Darcy said. “He must accumulate a suitable library to be a landed gentleman.”
Turning his back on the girl to dismiss her, Darcy looked at the shop owner and asked, “Now, tell me, what would make a suitable but innocuous gift for my arrival at Netherfield?”
From over his shoulder, Darcy heard Elizabeth say, “A package of fresh tea leaves is welcome in every home.”
“That is true, Miss Bennet,” Rockland agreed. “And I do not remember if Mrs Hobbes ordered any tea leaves since the arrival of Mr Bingley and his party.”
Seeing the question in the man’s expression, Rockland explained, “Mrs Hobbes is the most excellent housekeeper at Netherfield. She has managed the manor as long as I can remember.”
“And do you believe a gift of fresh tea leaves would be appropriate?” asked Darcy as he considered gifting the staple pantry item to the hostess at Netherfield.
“Hereabouts, the gentry appreciates the taste of fresh leaves for tea,” Elizabeth interjected again from further away. “It is a sign of favour when visitors are served fresh tea.”
The young woman continued, “And every housekeeper and cook have their own receipts for brewing tea and how to reuse the leaves. Many ladies instruct their cooks to dry and chop the leaves coarsely before brewing the second time. Then they dry the leaves again, combine them with others, and chop them finely for a third time in the teapot. And it does not matter if you strain the tea, some leaves slip through.”
“That would explain the occasional leaves at the bottom of the teacup,” Darcy admitted, turning back to the girl who was close to the door.
“Were you unaware of the practice?” asked Elizabeth. She stopped her steps, considered the tall gentleman again and asked, “Sir, does your household reuse tea leaves?”
“I am certain that my housekeeper or cook could provide the details of how often the tea leaves are used in my homes, but I am not familiar with the details. “
Piqued, she inquired, “Is it something you have no interest in knowing?”
“Miss…,” Darcy paused because he had forgotten the girl’s name.
“Bennet,” Mr Rockland said to provide the name.
“Yes, Miss Bennet,” Darcy continued. “I admit I am not aware of the number of times tea leaves are used in my households. But before you think me uncaring, I ask that you inquire with your father if he knows how many times tea leaves are used in your household.”
Elizabeth pursed her lips before admitting, “I beg your pardon, sir. But I know my father is not aware. It was a subject of discussion recently at our dinner table.”
“There is nothing to apologise for, Miss Bennet. You have given me the solution to my dilemma.”
