Chapter Four
“Excuse me, my dear. It is time for Kitty and Lydia to join me in my bookroom.”
Lydia groaned.
“First day,” he said, narrowing his eyes in the face of their sullen looks. “It is time. Come along, and remember my warning about annoying me as you study.”
Lydia and Kitty jumped up and moved around their chairs, pushing them into the table. They curtsied slightly to their father before looking at their mother.
“Excuse us, please, mama,” Kitty and Lydia said, their voices subdued.
Their mama nodded, appearing sympathetic. She rarely read anything except the latest novel or collection of poems. Mary had given her a collection of sermons by various clergymen for her birthday, but Lizzy doubted their mama had ever opened it.
“Excellent,” he said, his expression softening. “Consider how much more interesting your conversation will be when you attend the assembly next week. That may help you concentrate.”
“Yes, papa,” they said in unison. Lydia and Kitty filed out after him.
The moment the door closed, Mary said, “‘An investment in knowledge pays the best dividends.’”
“I daresay,” their mama said pithily, rising. Her daughters automatically rose as well.
“Who said that, Mary, dear?” Jane asked, looking across the table at her sister.
“Benjamin Franklin,” she said.
Their mama sniffed. “I suppose you all have something to do this morning?”
Lizzy and her sisters nodded.
“Very well, off with you.” She pointed at Lizzy. “Do not be late again.”
“Yes, Mama,” Lizzy murmured.
Their mother swept from the room, muttering that she had to talk to Mrs. Hill.
“I am going into Meryton to the lending library,” Mary told them.
“Would you care for company?” Jane asked. Mary shrugged and then nodded.
“I must put the debris I gathered into Jeffry’s enclosure,” Lizzy explained. “All my animals have already been fed, so I could join you afterward if you wish?”
“Not unless you change,” Mary said, sighing. “I hate to agree with Mama, but you do look a disgrace at times.”
“Mary,” Jane gasped.
Lizzy looked down at her humble, utilitarian gown. “You are right. I will change. But, go ahead, pray. I will catch you up.”
The Meryton lending library occupied a cozy Georgian townhouse where large windows overlooked the high street, allowing bright light to illuminate the gathering space within. A smartly liveried attendant opened the door to admit the Bennet sisters.
“Thank you, Harris,” Jane said, leading Lizzy and Mary into the refined space.
“Yer welcome, miss,” the older man said, his impressively curled mustache twitching. “There’s a nice orange spice tisane on the hob today. And,” he added portentously, “new crates full of novels, were bein’ opened yesterday eve.”
“Excellent,” Lizzy said, beaming. Harris beamed back.
Once inside the paneled and carpeted space, the three sisters encountered several acquaintances with whom they paused to exchange news.
Mary, however, hastened toward the counter where she returned three books.
Lizzy excused herself and joined her, placing her own returns on the counter.
A wiry gentleman nodded respectfully to her. His wife bustled over to Lizzy.
“How did you like these, Miss Elizabeth?” she asked.
“Very well, Mrs. Moore,” Lizzy told her. “I hear there are new novels in. What do you recommend?”
“Well, miss, we have a two-volume tale, written by a lady, called The Schoolmistress,” Mrs. Moore said, reaching behind her and finding the books on a shelf labeled “New arrivals”. She set them on the counter.
Lizzy opened the cover to the titlepage and read aloud, “‘A Moral Tale for Young Ladies’.” Making a face, she closed the cover and pushed the two volumes back across the counter. “Not for me, I think.”
Mrs. Moore put the books back on the shelf and brought forward a single book. “We are fortunate to have the first volume of Sense and Sensibility by a new author.”
“What did the publishers say it is about?” Lizzy asked.
“It is the story of three sisters and their mother who are left virtually penniless after the death of the sisters’ father,” Mrs. Moore revealed. After Lizzy’s eyes widened, the proprietress explained further, saying, “It is a love story, miss.”
“And when will the other volumes arrive?” Lizzy asked.
“We were promised them early next week.”
Lizzy nodded. “Very well, I will borrow it. Kindly wrap it in paper and keep it here at the desk for me to pick up when I am ready to leave.”
“Good choice, Miss Elizabeth,” Mrs. Moore said.
Lizzy smiled and turned to see if Mary had finished, discovering her sister still in serious discussion with Mr. Moore. Looking around, she spied Jane sitting at a tea table with Charlotte Lucas, their particular friend.
I wonder if Maria is here.
The crowd shifted and Lizzy spied Charlotte’s sister sitting with them. A member of staff arrived at the table with some tisane. She made her way through to the table and took a seat.
“Good morning, Charlotte,” Lizzy said, smiling. “Maria. How are you both?”
“Exceedingly well,” her friends said simultaneously.
“You are looking lovely today,” Charlotte mentioned, nodding at her yellow riband trimmed white day dress. “Yellow suits you more than anyone else I know.”
“You helped me choose the design of this spencer,” Lizzy reminded her, grinning. “If I look good it is because you have excellent taste.” She looked at the teapot. “That tisane smells delightful. I see they provided us with some honey, too.”
“Shall I pour?” Charlotte asked, being the eldest at the table.
“Yes, please,” Maria said, nodding so vigorously that her warm brown curls bounced.
“Jane tells us you have a new friend,” Charlotte said as she began to pour the golden tea into the cups.
“Yes, indeed. His name is Jeffry, and he is guinea pig,” Lizzy informed her with enthusiasm. “Do you know anyone who is missing a guinea pig?”
Charlotte and Maria both shook their heads.
“I have never seen one before,” Maria said. “May we come and see him?”
“I could bring him to Lucas Lodge,” Lizzy suggested. “If I do, all the family can see him.” She shaped the air with her hands. “He is about this size and hairy all over. Tiny ears.”
“The children would love to see him,” Charlotte said, grinning. “Say, have you met Mr. Bingley’s friend, just recently arrived from London?”
“His name is Mr. Darcy and his family seat is in Derbyshire, I believe,” Lizzy said as nonchalantly as possible.
“Is it?” Maria asked. “I have never been there.”
“Toby!” a lady cried softly. “Come back here!”
A lively white terrier trotted over to where Lizzy sat and barked once in greeting.
“Toby,” Lizzy said, smiling and leaning over to greet him with a scratch under his chin. “What a lovely surprise.”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” the terrier’s owner said sharply, coming to a stop next to Lizzy’s table, “Will you kindly stop befriending my dog and luring him away from me.”
Lizzy grabbed her gloves from her lap, stood, and curtsied slightly. “Good day to you, Mrs. Browning. Toby merely came over to say hello.”
Mrs. Browning, a robust lady the age of Lizzy’s own mother, huffed. “Do not give Toby any treats, if you please.”
Spreading her hands, Lizzy calmly replied, “I have none to give. How is your family, ma’am?”
“Perfectly well,” Mrs. Browning snapped. Leaning over, she snatched up her small terrier and held him to her breast. He whined. “Good day to you.” She turned on her heel and marched away.
“She is in a snit,” Charlotte commented quietly, blinking rapidly. “The dog came over without any coaxing from you.”
“She is jealous,” Mary remarked, coming to join them. As she sat, she added, “What was she thinking, getting a terrier if she wanted a lap dog?”
“Some tisane, Mary?” Charlotte asked, poised to pour another cup.
“Yes, thank you,” Mary said, tugging off her gloves and laying them in her lap before covering them with a napkin. “A pug would have been a better choice.”
Lizzy nodded and sighed. She could not help it if animals liked her. I will not spurn them, either. Most owners welcomed her friendliness toward their pets. Some, however, were like Mrs. Browning, resenting her gift.
“It is not your fault, dearest,” Jane said.
“Perhaps I should not go into public,” Lizzy said in a small voice.
“That is nonsensical,” Mary said trenchantly. “Do not give that woman—and others like her—the power to control your movements.”
The house cat, a gray and white tabby, wandered over between Lizzy and Mary’s chairs. She rubbed against Lizzy’s leg. Lizzy leaned over and stroked her head.
“Hello, Cleo,” she said in a caressing tone. The cat purred.
Mary waved at the cat, “There, you see. The animals would miss you if you became a hermit.”
Cleo moved away to greet other patrons. Lizzy picked up her cup and took a sip of her sweetened tea, letting the warmth spread through her. A server arrived and placed a plate holding a round of Whig teacakes on the table, along with some butter and five saucers.
Lizzy did not feel hungry, but she took a wedge anyway so as not to occasion any urging from her sisters and friends.
She hoped no other pets would approach her while she sat in the lending library.
Jealous, as Mary suggested, I suppose. Barely had the thought occurred than she felt a bird alight on her hat.
Mrs. Moore cautiously approached, saying softly, “I so hoped this would happen, miss. Please to get him outside if y’can.”
Reaching upward, Lizzy offered her finger to the bird. After a moment of hesitation, the bird jumped onto her finger. She pulled him down and identified him as a male house sparrow.
“How did you come to be inside, little one?” Lizzy asked.
The bird chirped. Standing slowly, Lizzy set her napkin and gloves on her chair before making her way over to the wood-framed glass door. She cupped the sparrow with her second hand when Harris opened the door for her. She took one step outside.