Chapter Seven #2
“I shall look about for one,” Lizzy promised. She examined Miss Darcy’s expression, expecting to see gratitude there. Instead, Lizzy caught her staring down at her reticule.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Darcy said in a quiet whisper, “your reticule is moving.”
Lizzy brought her bag up in front of her waist and put her hand over the warm lump inside. She looked about her, hoping that no one else had noticed either her odd action or the movement inside her reticule.
“Oh, dear. If Mama finds out…” Lizzy muttered.
“Is it a mouse?” Miss Darcy asked.
“It is too big for a mouse.” Mr. Darcy said calmly. He shifted his body to shield her from prying eyes.
“I think it is Jeffry, my guinea pig,” Lizzy confessed, embarrassed. “He seems to have a rather magical way of showing up wherever he wishes. He will not stay where he is put.”
“Magical?” Miss Darcy breathed. “Pray, tell me it is so.”
“I have never had a magical animal before—if such a thing exists—so I cannot promise you I am right.” Lizzy pulled open the drawstrings on her reticule.
Mr. Darcy’s hand came forward, palm up, to cradle the bottom of the bag.
“Thank you,” she whispered, slipping her hand inside, beneath Jeffry’s belly, and lifting him part of the way out.
“You may pet him, if you wish, Miss Darcy.”
Georgiana tugged off her glove and gently stroked the hair on the guinea pig’s back. Jeffry poked his nose upward, and she giggled softly.
“He has such tiny ears,” she observed. “I am pleased to meet you, sir. But what are you doing here? Are you trying to get your mistress in trouble with her mother?”
Jeffry meeped, and snuggled further into the reticule, pushing against Fitz’s cupped hand. Miss Elizabeth swiftly closed the reticule and lifted it off Fitz’s hand.
“Here comes my mother,” she explained, glancing to one side. “Mama, come and meet Miss Darcy.”
Georgiana and Fitz turned in the direction of Miss Elizabeth’s gaze, seeing a handsome woman in her mid-forties bearing down upon them. Georgiana curtsied and her brother bowed. Mrs. Bennet came to a stop and nodded genially.
“Mrs. Bennet,” Fitz said, taking Georgiana’s hand gently and setting it on his arm. “Allow me to present my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy. Georgiana, this is Mrs. Bennet.”
“How do you do, my dear?” Mrs. Bennet asked her. “Have you recovered from your journey? I understand you arrived only yesterday. Travel is such a bother, is it not?”
“Uh—”
“I have always thought so. Mr. Bennet and I rarely go anywhere. Very occasionally we will go up to London and stay with my younger brother and his wife. But, more often, they will come here, for Longbourn House is much larger than their townhouse. They bring their children and the little dears get to run around in the fresh air and sunshine.”
“Mama,” Miss Elizabeth said in a rush while her eyes widened. “I believe Miss Darcy would like to answer your questions.”
Her mother stared daggers at her daughter, causing Georgiana to tighten her hand on her brother’s arm. He covered her hand with his, and she felt comforted.
“I…I do not mind travel, ma’am,” Georgiana confessed. “Our chaise is comfortable and the roads between here and London are not too horrible. My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, accompanied me, and he did all he could to enliven the journey.”
Mrs. Bennet tittered behind her hand. “So, he is your cousin?” She ogled him where he stood on the other side of the drawing room. “He is a fine figure of a man. Is he married?”
Georgiana noticed Miss Elizabeth rolling her eyes a little at her mother’s prattling.
“Our cousin does not have that pleasure,” Fitz said curtly.
“There are many widows who might benefit from his attentions,” Mrs. Bennet said archly.
Georgiana felt her brother stiffen. Hurriedly, she asked, “Ma’am, are you looking forward to trying this new tea blend? I have tasted it before and found it lovely and mellow.”
“Did you now?” Mrs. Bennet asked. Her gaze remained fixed on Cousin Douglas. “Excuse me,” she said, and darted across the room, heading for the clump of people speaking with the colonel.
“Oh, dear,” Miss Elizabeth said, shaking her head. “Mama loves to make matches.”
“Indeed,” Fitz said.
“Yes. Indeed is probably the right way to respond to my comment,” Miss Elizabeth remarked, seemingly sanguine about Fitz’s prideful manner. She looked up at Georgiana. “Shall we fix a date for you to visit my animals? Will tomorrow do?”
Georgiana met her brother’s eyes and raised her eyebrows. He delivered a sharp nod.
“Tomorrow will be splendid,” Georgiana told Miss Elizabeth. “What time?”
“After you breakfast?” Miss Elizabeth suggested. “Say, around eleven?”
“That will be perfect,” Fitz answered. “Georgiana, did you bring the type of boots that you would wear in a barnyard?”
Georgiana grimaced. “No, I never thought to bring any to London, so I have none with me.”
Miss Elizabeth reached out and touched Georgiana’s arm, who enjoyed the feeling of being accepted. Fitz watches her so intently. Why? Is it possible he has met the one woman who will hold his interest?
“I think we can find something for you to borrow,” Miss Elizabeth said. “I am sure you would like to see our goats, our barn owls, and our common buzzard. They are all kept outside. Do not wear your most fashionable clothes, either.”
Georgiana thought over the clothes she had brought with her to Netherfield and wondered if she had anything suitable.
“Perhaps you have a spare apron my sister could wear to protect her clothes?” Fitz asked.
“I do, I do. That is a perfect compromise.” Miss Elizabeth grinned. She frowned and lifted her reticule. “Goodness, Jeffry is gone again.”
Fitz drew in a surprised breath. “Show me, please.”
Miss Elizabeth held up her reticule and set it on Fitz’s hand. He squeezed the bag and shook his head in apparent wonderment.
“How?” he asked.
“I could not tell you,” Miss Elizabeth admitted. “It is rather thrilling, is it not?” Then, she nodded toward the door where footmen were entering. “It appears the tea has arrived. Shall we find a place to sit? I detest drinking tea while standing.”
“I am the same. Somewhere next to a table?” Georgiana asked.
“Precisely,” Miss Elizabeth said, nodding toward the perfect spot where a side table sat beside one end of a pink floral sofa, and another low table sat between that sofa and another plain rose-colored one.
They approached the spot with purpose, Fitz leading the ladies so he would be ready to hand them into their seats. He turned when he arrived at the sofa. Georgiana put her hand in his, about to sit in the middle of the sofa, when a startled exclamation drew their attention.
“Goodness!” Lizzy cried, her arms rotating like a whirligig. She felt the cat between her feet. “Basile!”
The gray cat howled and raced toward Miss Bingley.
Miss Darcy reached out to catch Lizzy before she fell to the floor.
However, Lizzy had no luck, falling away from her.
She fell in an ignominious heap at Miss Darcy’s feet.
Just as she fell to the floor, Lizzy struck her head a glancing blow against the end table next to the sofa.
“Miss Elizabeth!” Miss Darcy cried, crouching next to her.
Lizzy stared bleary-eyed at her, groaning a little.
Mr. Darcy swiftly joined his sister and together they managed to lift Lizzy into a sitting position. Her head lolled against Mr. Darcy’s chest, and she moaned, putting her hand up to gingerly touch the sore spot. She could hear his racing heart beneath her cheek.
“Oh, my head,” she said quietly.
“Lie still for a moment,” Mr. Darcy ordered. “Catch your breath. Did you trip over that dratted cat? I saw him racing toward Miss Bingley.” Mr. Darcy sounded angry.
“I should have…watched where I was going,” Lizzy said, taking a shaky breath and straightening away from the comfort of Mr. Darcy’s chest in spite of his order to lie still.
She smiled at Miss Bingley, who had hurried over to see what had befallen one of her guests.
Mr. Bingley joined her, Jane at his side.
Charlotte hovered nearby. Lizzy shook herself and sucked in a reviving breath.
“I am perfectly all right, now. Pray help me stand.”
By this time her other three sisters had come to flutter around them. Her mother pushed through the gathered well-wishers.
“Goodness. I knew animals would be the death of you one day, Lizzy. Mr. Darcy, kindly set my daughter on the sofa and fetch her some sweet tea. Thank you.”
“Directly, ma’am,” he said, lifting his charge so she stood, pivoting them, and letting her settle gently on the cushions at one end of the sofa. “There you are,” he said softly, patting her shoulder. He left, then, to bring her a cup of tea.
“Excuse me, please,” Jane said, pushing past everyone to sit right next to Lizzy. “How are you, dearest?”
Lizzy pushed her hair back into place, saying, “I am perfectly well, Jane. Everyone,” she added, smiling around at the other guests, her hosts, Charlotte, and her family.
“Please do not be concerned. This is not the first time I have fallen over an animal. The chickens get under feet and our goats delight in butting me into the dirt.”
Miss Bingley’s guests chuckled and separated to find their own seats. Miss Darcy sat next to Jane. Charlotte managed to find a place across from them on another sofa. Lizzy glanced across the room to where Miss Bingley stood directing the footman.
Why does she look so annoyed? Does she think I fell on purpose? Or, is she merely upset that I disrupted the harmony of her party? Perhaps that is it. What I would really like to know is why Basile tripped me?
Lizzy smiled reassuringly around her, patting Jane’s hand where it rested on her arm. “There, there, Jane dear. I am perfectly all right—except for making an absolute cake of myself.”
“You did no such thing. You did, however, hit your head,” Jane reminded her, sounding stern and gentle at the same time.