Chapter Fourteen
Georgiana could scarcely contain her excitement as she sat beside her brother in the gig, heading toward the farm where she could pick her puppy.
“I do not know how I will choose just one,” she mentioned to Fitz.
“I think you should choose the one that wants you the most,” he replied. “When you are tempted to choose more than one, consider how much work just one will be.”
Georgiana knew her brother had delivered two pieces of sensible advice, but she did not find them helpful in the least. How will I choose only one, regardless of Fitz’s advice?
“On the next market day, we must be on the look out for a leather collar for the puppy,” Fitz said. “And a lead.”
“Oh, yes,” she replied, grinning.
I wonder why Fitz sounds tense. Is he worried I will pester him to get more than one puppy? Maybe…but that seems unlikely.
“By-the-by, how did you find Miss Mary’s playing?” he asked. “And did you find something to play together?”
Georgiana could hear the effort he was making to sound more himself. Frowning, she dragged her thoughts away from puppies and concerns over Fitz’s current feelings. “Mary is technically proficient.”
“But?”
“But her playing is…well…wooden. I do not believe she enjoys the activity,” Georgiana confessed. “She has spent many hours practicing—that is clear—but…”
“Perhaps she has had uninspiring instructors?” Fitz suggested. “Do you recall Mrs. March?”
Georgiana thought for a moment. “Oh, yes. My second instructress. She did not stay long.”
“I caught her slapping the back of your hands when you missed a note,” her brother said grimly. “You were only six. You were bound to make mistakes. I doubt you could have learned to play with feeling if she had remained your instructress.”
“You made Papa dismiss her?”
“I did. He was as appalled as I, mind.”
“I liked my next instructor, though.” Georgiana brushed her hand against an itchy spot on her cheek.
“You may be right about Mary. She may not have had an instructor with more than adequate skill. Mary said Miss Bennet and Lizzy are only mediocre players.” She paused and took a breath as she thought back to Fitz’s question.
Oh, yes. “We did find a lovely air that will make an excellent duet.”
“Do you mean to return soon to practice the piece?” Fitz asked.
“Yes, tomorrow morning, if it is no bother for you to take me?”
Fitz smiled down at her. “None at all.”
“You will be able to visit with Lizzy as well,” she suggested, grinning back at him.
“If she is available, I shall ask her to join me for a walk.”
They drove for a few minutes in companionable silence. Georgiana broke the silence first.
“There seems to be a number of militia officers about town,” she commented. Fitz stiffened slightly. Georgiana gazed up at him inquiringly. “What is amiss?”
Fitz shook his head and ignored her remark. “We turn here.” He pointed over the hedgerows. “See, there? That is our destination.”
Georgiana craned her neck and spied the barn and farmhouse. Exhilaration coursed through her, and she forgot about Fitz’s odd behavior.
When they reached the farm, Mr. and Mrs. Godbed awaited them with their three children standing beside them. Mrs. Godbed and her daughter curtsied to Georgiana and Fitz. Mr. Godbed and his sons removed their caps.
“Good day, Mr. Godbed, Mrs. Godbed,” Fitz said in a genial fashion. “May I present my sister, Miss Darcy?”
“Yes, indeed,” Mrs. Godbed said, beaming at Georgiana. “These are me children, Tommy, Janice, and Gilbert, who are fourteen, twelve, and eight.”
“How do you do?” Georgiana asked, putting on her best and warmest smile. “I am pleased to meet all of you. But I must admit, that I am looking forward ever so much to meeting the puppies.”
“Just this way, sir, and miss,” Mr. Godbed said, gesturing toward the back of the house. “Me wife ‘as a spot fer ye t’meet the little rascals. Iffen ye follows ‘er, we’ll fetch t’puppies.” To his children, he said, “Come wi’ me, now, and we’ll bring those puppies.”
“Aye, dad,” the children said.
Georgiana and Fitz followed the farmwife to a shed attached to the back of the house. This must be the spot Fitz told me of yesterday. How charming.
“Miss, I’ve brewed us a lovely concoction of lemon balm and elderflower,” Mrs. Godbed said, indicating the pitcher of cold tea. “I’ve added a little honey to it. I ‘ope it’s to yer likin’.”
“I am certain it will be delicious and refreshing,” Georgiana said. She glanced around at the four chairs ranged in a semi-circle—two on each side of the table. “Where should I sit?”
“This is where I sat yesterday,” her brother said, holding on to the back of a kitchen chair that faced the barnyard. “You sit here so you can watch for the puppies.”
“Aye, miss,” Mrs. Godbed said. She poured out two glasses of the cool tea and handed one to Georgiana. As soon as Fitz sat, she presented his to him. “I’ve got us some pumpkin tarts, today. I put cinnamon in the custard.”
“Oh, how lovely,” Georgiana said. She took a sip of her tea, smiled her pleasure at its taste, and set the glass on the table.
She tugged off her gloves and rested them beside the glass, then she accepted a delicate, shallow tart.
After a bite—which Mrs. Godbed eagerly watched her take—Georgiana half-closed her eyes in pleasure.
She swallowed and said, “Oh, ma’am, this is so delicious. ”
“Thank you, miss. Now, you finish that one and ‘ave another one afore them puppies come.”
Fitz also praised Mrs. Godbed’s baking, mentioning a loaf she had baked the day before. Georgiana finished her second tart, spied the returning Godbeds and began squirming in her seat.
“Here they come!” she squealed softly. Hastily, she wiped her fingers on a napkin, drank some more herbal tisane, and then held her arms out for the puppy in Tommy’s arms. “Who is this?” she asked, taking the animal and holding him against her chest.
“He’s Rocky, miss,” Tommy said, stepping back out of the way.
“He is so soft,” Georgiana crooned, and then giggled when he licked her chin.
“Try mine, miss,” Janice said, holding out her puppy. “‘is name’s Sandy.”
Georgiana traded Rocky for Sandy. “He is just as soft,” Georgiana claimed, rubbing her cheek over the top of Sandy’s head.
“And mine, miss,” Gilbert said, holding out the puppy for her to take. “She’s Flower, miss.”
Georgiana managed to take her onto her lap, holding her in place while she cradled Sandy.
“Only one, my dear,” Fitz reminded her.
“But, how shall I choose?” she cried softly.
“I think you should put them down on the ground and see which one wants to come back to you,” Fitz advised.
Georgiana slipped off the chair and sat on the carpet Mrs. Godbed had lain over the flagstones.
She set the two puppies in her arms down onto the carpet.
The three puppies gamboled over each other, tugging on ears and making puppy-growling sounds as they played.
Georgiana laughed in delight, taking in their antics, praying one of them would separate themselves from the group and approach her again.
After a few minutes, the female rolled across the carpet and landed next to Georgiana.
The puppy stood up, shook herself, and gazed upwards.
She yipped in pleasure and climbed onto Georgiana’s lap.
“Oh, my darling girl,” Georgiana cooed, lifting her close and nuzzling her.
“That’s Flower, miss,” Gilbert informed her. “She likes ye.”
“Do you think so?” Georgiana asked, petting and snuggling her.
“Oh, yes, miss,” the boy promised.
“Let’s take these other two back t’the barn, now, children,” Mr. Godbed said. He knuckled his forehead to Georgiana and Fitz, then he put his cap back on. The children captured the two loose puppies and followed their father back to the barn.
“We will need to put another string around her neck so we can tell her from the rest,” Fitz said to Mrs. Godbed.
“I made her a woven thread collar, sir,” Mrs. Godbed explained, pulling the red and blue and green item from her apron pocket.
The bit of braiding appeared to be the width of a child’s baby finger.
She approached Georgiana and put it on Flower while Georgiana held her still.
“That should do it fer a couple o’weeks. ”
“May I visit her?” Georgiana asked, already reluctant to leave her precious Flower behind. “If it is no trouble, of course.”
“Any time ye likes,” Mrs. Godbed assured her, beaming. “Monday’s washday, mind, so you’ll ‘ave t’make do with Flower’s company iffen ye comes tomorrow.”
“That sounds inconvenient, ma’am,” Fitz said. “Will Tuesday morning do?”
“Tuesday’ll be jist fine,” the farmwife said. “If the weather turns, ye can sit in the kitchen w’me and play w’yer puppy while I do some bakin’.”
“Thank you,” Georgiana said, rising. “You are ever so kind.” She kissed Flower and set her on the carpet, and then reached for her glass. After finishing her tisane, she glanced at Fitz. “Are you ready to go?”
He smiled. “More importantly, are you ready to go, my dear?”
Georgiana grimaced. “I will not deny that it is a wrench to leave Flower behind, but I am determined to be sensible.” She turned to her hostess. “Thank you so much for letting me choose one of your puppies. I swear I will take excellent care of her.”
“I’m that sure ye will, miss,” Mrs. Godbed said, beaming back at her. She moved over to a pile of split logs and lifted down a small, rectangular, handled basket. A blue and white gingham cloth covered its contents. “Ye must take a few of me tarts away w’ye. I ‘ave some in a basket ‘ere.”
“Goodness,” Georgiana said, accepting the gift. “Thank you. I will bring the basket and cloth back with me on Tuesday.”
“O’course, miss,” Mrs. Godbed said, nodding kindly.
“Perhaps your husband will do me the honor of discussing the features of British whites with me on Tuesday when I bring Georgiana here?” Fitz asked.
“I’m sure he’d be right pleased to talk w’ye about them,” Mrs. Godbed said.