Page 10 of Ashes and Understanding
“Is it not?”
Mrs. Gardiner arched a brow. “I should hope not. My niece has better taste.”
“No, no, no! This was for another client—a much taller client! I am mortified, mademoiselle. Please, allow me to help you out of it at once.” The modiste flushed but hurried forward, flapping her hands as though she might shoo the dress off Elizabeth. “I tried to dissuade the other customer, truly. I told her the orange—it does not suit her complexion, nor anyone’s, but she insisted it was the height of fashion.”
Elizabeth stepped out of the gown with relief, her laughter subsiding into a bright smile. “Perhaps she thought it might distract from her other faults.”
Madame Dupont chuckled nervously, shaking her head as she hung the offending dress on a nearby stand. “She is… très particular. But you, mademoiselle, shall have the gown you ordered. And this one—” She gestured at the orange creation with a dramatic flourish. “This one, I shall pretend I never saw on you.”
Elizabeth exchanged a conspiratorial glance with her aunt. “An excellent idea.”
As Madame Dupont disappeared to retrieve the correct gown, Mrs. Gardiner sat back down, her eyes twinkling. “Well, Lizzy, if nothing else, this will make a delightful story.”
Elizabeth grinned. “Oh, I fully intend to tell it. The trick, of course, will be deciding whether to include the part about the feathers.”
∞∞∞
As Elizabeth sat down with the Gardiners for dinner that evening, she looked wistfully around the dining room. It had always been a warm, bustling space, but now it felt oddly bare. The shelves that once held polished silver and colorful crockery stood empty, their contents packed away in neat crates lining the far wall. The absence of familiar trinkets and framed prints gave the room an unfamiliar hollowness, and there was a distinct musty smell in the air.
“Although I am excited for you to relocate to Hertfordshire, I must admit that I will miss your home here in town,” she said. “It is almost as if this room is saying goodbye before you do.”
Madeline Gardiner followed her gaze and sighed. “Yes, it does, does it not? Packing has a way of hollowing out a house, even before you leave it.”
“Will you miss being here in London?” Elizabeth asked curiously. “Having lived my entire life in at Longbourn, I cannot imagine moving somewhere else.”
“I will miss my friends, and there are quite a lot of conveniences here in town. But I definitely will not miss the terrible air and smells. I look forward to living in the country once again, and I keep reminding myself that Stoke House will soon feel like my own.”
Mr. Gardiner looked up from his plate, a glint of humor in his eye as he spoke for the first time after tucking in. “Lizzy, you must not let her talk you into believing she’s entirely resigned to the move. She’s still mourning the loss of Derbyshire.”
Elizabeth grinned. “I suspected as much. But think, Aunt, about how lovely it will be to have you settled so near to us. I look forward to seeing what you do with the estate, both the house and park, as well as the empty tenant farms you purchased. You have a talent for making spaces feel warm and inviting, no matter where they are.”
Mrs. Gardiner smiled, her expression softening. “Thank you, my dear. That means a great deal to me. I must confess, though, the drawing room will take some effort. It is a touch smaller than I would like.”
Mr. Gardiner chuckled. “It is quite large enough for our purposes, my love. Besides, the children will be too busy exploring the grounds to notice its size.”
“What do you children think?” Elizabeth smiled at the four young Gardiner children, who had been wiggling on their seats, eager to be invited to participate in the discussion. “Will you all enjoy being near us in the country, or will you miss the city?”
“I want to see cows!”
“And sheep!” another child added enthusiastically.
The table erupted in laughter, but the children’s attention soon turned back to Elizabeth. “Cousin Lizzy,” the eldest began, leaning forward eagerly, “can we play the game now?”
Elizabeth tilted her head, feigning confusion. “The game? What game could you possibly mean?”
“The guessing game!” the child exclaimed. “You close your eyes, and we bring you the next course. You have to guess what it is by the smell.”
Elizabeth sighed dramatically. “Oh, very well. But only because you’ve asked so sweetly.”
The children cheered, and Mr. Gardiner chuckled as Elizabeth obediently closed her eyes. The clink of plates and hushed whispers signaled the arrival of the next course. Elizabeth inhaled deeply and a smile crept across her lips.
“Roast duck,” she declared confidently. “With rosemary.”
The children gasped in awe, and the youngest one cried, “She’s a magician!”
“Not a magician,” Mr. Gardiner said, shaking his head. “Simply a woman with an extraordinary sense of smell. Lizzy, if you evergrow tired of Hertfordshire, I daresay you could make a fortune in the perfume trade.”
Elizabeth opened her eyes and laughed. “I will keep that in mind, Uncle. Though I imagine your children would be far less enthusiastic about smelling perfumes than roasted duck.”
