Once they left the environs of Cambridge the roads began to deteriorate sharply. A lesser carriage would not have been able to withstand the punishment meted out by the deep ruts crisscrossing the muddy highway. Darcy's carriage was the finest that money could buy; it was well sprung but nothing could keep it's occupants from being jostled against each other and thrown against the sides of the coach. Their bones were aching and they felt bruised. It was becoming clear that they'd never even make it by nightfall. Then the skies darkened and it began to rain hard.
Darcy rapped on the panel with his cane and ordered his driver to prepare to stop for the night at the next inn.
He turned to Bingley, "We'd never make it by nightfall. And this storm is liable to spook the horses."
This storm is spooking me," replied Bingley. "and I swear my back teeth have come loose."
The storm increased in intensity and the next ten minutes were terrifying. Darcy sighed heavily when the lights appeared a quarter of a mile down the road. He glanced at Bingley who had his feet braced against the the facing seat. "What the hell do we pay a toll for? Darcy snapped. "They know this road will be heavily traveled for the holidays. I've never seen them in such shape. If one of my horses is hurt I'll raise holy particular hell!"
Bingley glanced at Darcy and thought he would not want to ever get on the wrong side of this man.
When the coach finally pulled to a stop Darcy commanded Thomas to get out and run into the inn and order a bottle of whiskey to be sent to the stable for his men. To Bingley and James he advised that that run into the inn and warm themselves before they caught a chill. He jumped down and gave exact instructions to the drivers, and asked to be notified if any of the horses had gone lame.
When he finally entered the inn and rejoined Bingley he dropped into a chair and took a long drink from the tankard of ale Bingley had ordered for him. "Well, at least we're half way home," he said. "But if it's like this tomorrow, I don't know, Bingley."
"Relax, Darcy. We have shelter for the night. That's all that matters right now."
"You're right, of course. I just really wanted to get back to London tonight. But I have the drivers and footmen to think about, not to mention the four horses. We were lucky we were so close to the inn when the storm began. So, the first day of our vacation has ended rather badly. What do you suggest we do tonight?"
Bingley thought for a moment then said, "How about getting drunk and turning in early?"
Darcy signaled to a barmaid. "Two more," he said.
In the morning Darcy consulted his driver and decided to continue on to London though it wouldn't be the smoothest of rides. He could only hope that they could get as far as the next inn. Darcy decided to chance it. The first ten miles were almost as rough as the the previous day but as they changed horses at the next inn they were assured that the condition of the roads vastly improved as they neared Town. They continued their journey with great optimism. When they at last pulled to a halt in front of the Darcy residence the occupants of the cab heaved a collective sigh of relief.
Upon entering his home Darcy headed straight to his study and penned a short note which was sent to the Bakewell residence.
Darcy had known the Bakewells most of his life. They were an elderly couple who'd had their only child late in life. Their child had grown to be a lovely woman who last summer had married a Canadian. She was now living with her husband in Canada. Her parents missed her terribly and had decided to immigrate to be near her when she gave birth to their first grandchild. Darcy had dined at the Bakewell residence on many occasions and had the pleasure of attending the engagement ball. He knew the Bakewell residence very well and thought it perfect for Bingley.
After long leisurely baths the two men met in the dining room and enjoyed an excellent meal then retired early to recover from the ordeal of travel in England.
In the morning feeling much refreshed, Darcy announced, "Bingley, we have an appointment to view the Bakewell residence at eleven o'clock. Does that suit you?"
As expected, Bingley started pacing which invariably made Darcy smile. He sipped his coffee, watching his young friend. Had he ever been that young and inexperienced? Sometimes Darcy thought he had been born old. So many responsibilities and so little fun. There were times when he would sit alone in his study and remember the joy of his youth and the adventures he'd shared with his cousin and even with George Wickham. Fishing, hunting, swimming. Racing into to Lampton for the horse chestnuts. Stealing a bottle of brandy and getting drunk under the oak tree. Flying kites. And then his mother died and nothing was ever the same.
Darcy had not told Bingley that the Bakewell residence was a short distance away from his own. When they left the house a short time later Bingley was puzzled when there was no carriage awaiting them.
"It's such a nice day," Darcy said, "I thought we might take a short walk before we view the house."
Bingley glanced around at the gray drizzly day and frowned. "But Darcy, it's almost eleven o'clock! And it's not a pleasant day. It's wet and gray. Have you lost your mind?"
They turned the corner and walked past two houses. Suddenly, Darcy stopped and looked up at a handsome building in many ways similar to the Darcy townhouse. It was fronted by a small, colorful garden. On the wall next to the door was a plainly etched brass plaque revealing the name of the occupants.
"So what do you think, Bingley?"
Impatiently, Bingley snapped "about what?"
Darcy laughed. "Oh my" he said. "Are you out of sorts?" He raised his hand and pointed at the Bakewell residence. "What do you think, Bingley?"
Bingley's eyes followed the direction of Darcy's finger and focused on the brass plaque. His mouth dropped open. He looked at the house for several moments. "I'll buy it," he said.
For the next hour they were ushered through every room in the house. Darcy doubted if Bingley heard a word of description by the housekeeper. He kept a silly grin on his face and nodded when he thought it appropriate. By the time they returned to Darcy's townhouse, Bingley was calm, quiet and in a state of stupor. Darcy left him in the drawing room and went to his study to pen a letter to his agent telling him to start the process of purchase. He begged that this could be accomplished by Christmas.
After lunch Darcy took Bingley across town to a small shop he'd discovered a couple of years ago. It was a small but quaint shop that sold a wide variety of items that were uniquely appealing to Darcy. His sister Georgianna would be celebrating her tenth birthday in February and Darcy wanted to find something special for her.
They entered the shop and were greeted pleasantly by the shopkeeper. Their eyes were drawn to the glass counter which presented some stunning jewelry on a plush emerald green velvet cloth. Bingley reached immediately for a gold charm bracelet. The shopkeeper pulled out a tray and showed Bingley at least two dozen charms. Bingley was entranced and pored over the tiny ornaments selecting several for purchase.
Darcy had moved further down to the back of the shop. He had yet to see exactly what he wanted. A lady stepped from a doorway and smiled pleasantly. "May I help you?"
Darcy returned her smile. "I hope so. My sister turns ten in February and I'm looking for something with an amythyst which wouldn't be too old for her."
The lady stooped behind the counter pulling various trays out and sorting through them. Finally she pulled a tray out and set it on the counter and reached for a ring which she presented to Darcy. "We have rings for every month of the year. My daughter's ring is turquoise for December. She loves it."
Darcy was sure Georgianna would love the ring too. It was a wide gold band with the tiniest amethyst stone embedded in the gold. Simple and elegant.
"It's perfect. I'll take it."
"I'm sure Miss Georgianna will love it. Will there be anything else, Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy looked sharply at the woman. "I'm afraid, Madam, that you have me at a disadvantage."
"You don't know me, Mr. Darcy. I was born in Lampton. I've seen your family many times."
"And your name is?"
"Mrs. Gardner, sir. She nodded at the shopkeeper. "My husband and I own this shop."
"You are to be commended, Mrs. Gardner. I find everything here an utter delight."
Mrs. Gardner nodded her thanks and placed the ring in a small box and handed it to Darcy.
Darcy wandered back to Bingley who was happily chatting with Mr. Gardner. He was telling Mr. Gardner about the house he was about to purchase. His enthusiasm was so infectious that Mr. Gardner was grinning broadly at him.
Bingley turned to Darcy, "Did you find something for your sister?" he asked.
Darcy nodded, "and I can see that you've done well for yourself. Are they all for your sister?"
"Yes. But now what do I get Hurst?"
"Champagne? Brandy?"
"Perhaps," Mr. Gardner said, "I might be able to procure a bottle or two of Amagnac Cames."
"What's Armagnac Cames?" Bingley asked.
"It's one of the finest brandies in the world." Darcy replied.
Bingley laughed, "I think it would be wasted on Hurst."
Darcy stared intently at Mr. Gardner. "Would a case be possible?"
Mr. Gardner replied, "It's not out of the question."
Darcy handed his card to the man. "It's been a pleasure, Mr. Gardner."
When they returned to the townhouse, Darcy's favorite cousin Richard Fitzwilliam was waiting for him in the library. He had already helped himself to a glass of wine and was puffing on a cigar with a contented smile on his agreeable face. He jumped up and greeted Darcy with a hardy handshake. "Where the devil have you been? I've been cooling my heels for the past three hours."
"Richard, I think I've found a goldmine and if you behave yourself, I just might share it with you."
"Hmmm. Interesting. Not illegal, I trust?"
"Would that bother you?"
"Certainly not. It would make it more fun. Is it contraband, I hope? Something to sip?"
"Allow me to introduce Mr. Charles Bingley to you, Richard. Bingley, this is my reprobate of a cousin, Captain Richard Fitzwilliam."
Richard grabbed Bingley hand "Delighted to meet you, young sir." He turned to Darcy, "When are Guy and Josh coming in?"
"In two days."
"Oh dear, that means we have to start the party without them. Tres tragique!"
Darcy rolled his eyes and Bingley stood grinning at this bear of a man who was the polar opposite of Darcy but in his own way was as charming. This was going be fun.
Four days after Darcy's visit a case of Armagnac Cames was delivered to the Darcy townhouse. Darcy had the presence of mind to warn his butler that he would be receiving a very valuable box and it was to be immediately placed in the massive safe in the cellar. Knowing his friends, if they got one whiff of the contraband French Brandy, it wouldn't last a week.
Since the box was extremely expensive, and Mr. Gardner no doubt had laid out the cash for such a hard to come by item Darcy decided to return to the shop and pay his debt so Mr. Gardner could realize his profit immediately. He invited his friends to join him which they did with alacrity.
The five men descended on the tiny shop in a jovial mood having had an excellent lunch washed down by several glasses of champagne. They were all delighted to find such a shop in Cheapside and bought several items. Darcy picked up a onyx pinky ring for himself and slipped an envelope to Mr. Gardner. "I hope we'll meet again," he said.
"It would be my pleasure," Mr. Gardner responded.