Chapter Nine #2
“This is Oliver. Whoops, watch out,” Lizzy warned. Before she could direct him, Mr. Darcy held up his hand in the accepted fashion. Oliver landed on it and chirped a greeting.
“Hello, my fine fellow,” Mr. Darcy said. He stroked the bird’s dark-brown feathers. “How did you acquire Oliver?”
“Peter found him after a ferocious storm,” Lizzy explained. “I bandaged Oliver’s wing. He will be ready to return to the wild soon.”
“Will you miss him?”
“Of course. I expect I will see him often since he was found near our home wood. They are non-migratory.”
“Have you thought to train him?”
Lizzy shook her head. “He belongs in the wild. We have only trained him enough to make feeding and caring for him possible.”
Oliver hopped off of Mr. Darcy’s hand and flew across the enclosure to a perch formed from a dead beech branch.
“You said you have barn owls, Miss Elizabeth?”
“I do, but they are shy. Earlier, I could not coax them out of their nesting box where they hide during the daylight hours.” Lizzy indicated an internal gate. “Let us go through and see if they have changed their minds.
Darcy followed the extraordinary lady through the gate and into the owl enclosure. His boots made the strewn straw rustle beneath his feet. “What have you named these?”
“Daryll and Spunky,” Miss Elizabeth said, smiling brilliantly at him.
“They are siblings. I got them when they were fledglings.” She scowled.
“They were abandoned near one of our outbuildings when their mother died in a fight with another bird. I do not know what happened to their father. Usually, father owls continue to care for their young—as long as they have grown beyond the need for their mother to be in the nest with them, keeping them warm. I expect he died as well, since Daryll and Spunky were old enough to leave the nest on their own.”
“You know a great deal about your birds,” Darcy observed.
“I correspond with other bird lovers, who have helped me enormously,” she said. “Peter and his father are also extremely knowledgeable.”
A movement in the dark corner drew their attention. One of the owl fledglings had poked his white and tawny head out of their nesting box. He stared at them for a moment and then made room for his brother’s head.
“Good day, Daryll, Spunky,” Miss Elizabeth said. She gestured toward one of the perches. “Would you like to come out and show off?”
One of the brothers made his way through the hole and swooped silently to the perch. His brother soon joined him.
“The one on the left is Daryll,” she said, approaching then slowly. “Spunky will come onto my hand.” Miss Elizabeth lifted her hand in a gentle motion. Spunky looked at it, made a short, sharp sound, then leapt onto her hand.
“Oooh,” a female voice cooed from behind Darcy. He looked over his shoulder.
“Georgiana. Miss Mary,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“Fitz, how beautiful he is,” his sister said on a sigh, her expression full of wonder. Georgiana appeared wide-eyed and awe-struck. Miss Mary had her arm through his sister’s arm as though they were old chums.
“Barn owls are handsome animals,” Darcy agreed. He looked at her intently and thought she might have been upset. “Are you well, Georgiana?”
“Exceedingly so,” she said in an overbright voice. “Mary and Lizzy are my new friends.”
Miss Mary squeezed his sister’s arm and nodded emphatically. She gazed past him at the owls.
“They have grown,” she commented. “Not long now.”
“True,” Miss Elizabeth said, sounding encouraged, as she moved with Spunky nearer to the fence so Georgiana could observe him more closely.
“They are keeping the enclosure free of rodents. As is Oliver. I think I will have the roofs rolled back in a few days so they can fly out and hunt on their own.”
Darcy said little as Miss Elizabeth, her sister, and his sister spoke about the owls and the buzzard. Before long, however, the stable clock sounded.
“Ah, we must hurry to change out of our protective coverings, wash, and go to the parlor where our refreshments are being laid out,” Miss Elizabeth said. She spoke softly to the owl and he flew back to his brother.
Once their party arrived in the orangery, Darcy saw that a footman awaited them, a boot brush in one hand. Darcy sat and held out his foot so the servant could clean the mud and grass off his boots.
“If you sit here on the stool, Georgiana, I will help you off with your boots before I wash my hands,” Miss Mary said.
“Thank you.” Georgiana sat on a stool, lifting her skirts a little, and holding out a foot.
“Not at all,” Miss Mary said, leaning over.
“I will do the same for you,” Georgiana promised.
“No need. I have already exchanged my boots for shoes.”
“Goodness, that was quick,” his sister remarked.
“Five sisters, one maid between us, and only one footman,” Miss Mary enumerated. “Either we wait and wait and wait for someone to help us, or we learn to do for ourselves. You are wearing boots that were not designed for you, so I thought you might need help with them.”
“Oh,” Georgiana said, frowning a little.
“Otherwise, I am certain you could have managed,” Miss Mary said, setting the boots to one side. She picked up Georgiana’s shoes using a handkerchief to keep them from getting dirty from her own hands. “Here you go,” Miss Mary said, holding each shoe in turn until Georgiana had it on her foot.
“Next, your apron and hat,” Miss Elizabeth said, holding out her hand. “I will hang them up.”
The footman stood away from Darcy, who checked his boots, and nodded his thanks.
Darcy stood and passed a coin to the young man.
The footman took it and slipped it into a pocket in his waistcoat, murmuring his appreciation.
Darcy handed him his hat and gloves. The footman walked away toward the orangery door.
Darcy turned to the women and saw that they were at the basin, washing their hands. He joined them.
“There, we are all clean,” Miss Elizabeth said, using a hook for the damp towel they had all used.
She patted her hair and smoothed her dress.
She looked at Miss Mary and Georgiana to examine their dresses.
Then, she examined Darcy’s front. “Good, none of us are wet from washing our hands. No grass, no bits of dirt, no slobber from Harry. Oh, right, Harry.” She looked at the doorway where her dog patiently sat.
“You cannot come into the parlor today, boy. Stay here and keep the animals safe.” She lowered her head and gave him a warning look.
“Do not get into an argument with Clive.” Harry huffed and settled onto the floor, placing his head on his paws.
“Clive?” Georgiana asked.
“The fox,” Darcy supplied.
“You have a good memory, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Elizabeth praised, grinning at him.
Darcy experienced an odd flutter in his stomach. Can a few positive words from this lady cause such a sensation? Her fine eyes are sparkling, too. Good Lord. No one has ever made me feel this way. All I want is to be near her. His abdominal muscles clenched. Am I a fool?
“Let us go,” she said, gesturing toward the interior door, and then leading them through it and on to the parlor on the first floor.
Mr. Bennet and his two youngest daughters awaited them in the pleasantly decorated parlor where green sofas, a scattering of small tables, and some ladder-backed chairs adorned the space.
His host stood with his daughters in a group by the fireplace, which had been lit so that its warmth could take the chill off the north-facing room.
“Come in, come in,” Mr. Bennet said, waving them forward. “Did you enjoy meeting Lizzy’s menagerie?”
“Yes, indeed,” Darcy said, leading his sister toward the older man who nodded in a friendly way. Darcy bowed and Georgiana curtsied. “I admire how well her animals appear to be. Content, too. She has quite the collection.”
“Lizzy has loved animals since she could walk. Now, please, let us commence consuming our refreshments,” Mr. Bennet said, waving to the laden table set to one side of the fireplace.
“There are all sorts of wonderful things to eat. We shall help ourselves. Lizzy will serve us some rose hip and mint cold tisane, if you care for some? It is sweetened with honey, I believe.”
“Yes, thank you,” Georgiana said eagerly. “I enjoy herbal tisanes—hot or cold.”
“Mary developed the concoction. She has assured us it has many health benefits,” Mr. Bennet promised her. “The mint and rose hips come from our own gardens. You go first, my dear Miss Darcy. Followed by you, sir.”
“Thank you, but I will assist the ladies first,” Darcy said in an assured voice. He turned to Miss Mary who hovered nearby. “What might I bring you, Miss Mary?”
She blushed and looked at the floor. Then, she visibly straightened her spine and raised her chin, saying, “A little of everything, please.” Turning away, she found a place near a side table, where Miss Elizabeth placed a crystal glass filled with a green-tinged, pinkish liquid.
Darcy filled her plate with a pumpkin tart, a sugared biscuit, a slice of cold pork pie, a spoonful of spiced mixed nuts, several savory biscuits accompanied by a dollop of soft goat cheese blended with herbs, and a blackberry scone, slathered with butter.
He left the table and took it to Miss Mary, presenting her with a small blue napkin and fork as well.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the offering. Mary set the plate beside her. “I will wait until everyone has something.”
“As you wish,” he murmured. Darcy turned to look for the two youngest sisters.
He discovered they had not waited for his service.
Instead, they were filling their own plates.
He thought he heard Miss Mary muttering something about their lack of manners, but when he looked at her for confirmation, he only saw her stoney eyes and tight lips.
Georgiana joined Mary, and her countenance relaxed into an expression of pleasure.