My wife glanced at me, and I fought to keep from revealing my inner turmoil. Her sanguine expression returned. “Since my husband makes no objection, I shall agree to your request, Graham. You may call me Elizabeth.”
The angel clapped his hands together. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”
She gave him a nod. Her brow creased as she fixed her gaze upon our collie sitting on the road a fair distance away. “Rory, what are you doing there? Come here, boy.”
After a few halting steps towards her, Rory stopped and sat again.
She turned to me, and her arm swept towards our dog. “Did you see that? Is it not odd?”
“Yes, this behaviour is unusual for him.” It seemed Rory sensed Graham’s uncanny nature.
She glanced at Graham. “Most of the time, he is eager to meet new people. I often need to restrain him from being too familiar and vociferous in his greetings.”
“The dog may be distracted by a small rodent or bird near him.” Graham presented an ingratiating smile.
“Perhaps so.” Elizabeth met my gaze. “Have you examined the lambs? Are they well?”
“Yes, although I imagine you want to get a closer look for yourself.”
“That is true.” My wife sauntered towards the gate to the penned area and entered. Flora rushed forwards to receive Elizabeth’s attention. The lamb followed when my wife went on to greet the others.
Graham watched my wife’s progress as she cooed at the lambs and fed them pieces of apple and carrot from her pocket. “As someone who has seen beautiful women all over the world, I can state with assurance that Elizabeth possesses a rare and compelling quality that defies explanation. She is pretty, of course, but attractive ladies may be found everywhere. What word best describes her unparalleled attribute? Effervescence? Sparkle? Forsooth yes, but there is more—a form of excellence rarely encountered. Your wife embodies all these things in a way that transcends the meaning of the words.”
My hands formed fists. “You have said quite enough. I have no need for you to tell me how special Elizabeth is or why I should appreciate her. You may be assured I already do. I shall thank you to remember she is my wife. See that you maintain a proper distance from her.”
Graham raised his hands in a show of submission. “Calm yourself. I meant to compliment you on your taste in women. I am not here to take advantage of your wife in any way.”
A new suspicion caused my stomach muscles to writhe. “You have admitted to covert observation of me since yesterday. Have you spied on my wife and me when we believed ourselves to be alone?” I regarded Graham with a savage glare.
With a forceful exhale, he put his hands on his hips. “Sir, even an angel of death has scruples. You may be assured that I shall act as a gentleman while I am here.” He moved closer. “Makeyourself easy. Your wife is returning, and I am certain you do not want to alarm her.”
I made every effort to soften my expression as she moved towards us. No doubt I had limited success.
With a tilt of her head, Elizabeth’s eyes met mine. “The lambs appear to be thriving.”
“Yes, I am pleased with them.” With a slight move, I edged Graham out of my field of vision. “I expect to return early enough to spend time with you and Bennet before breakfast.”
Her visage brightened with a smile. “Wonderful. I shall see you later.”
I took her hand and lifted it to bestow a kiss. She bid farewell to Graham, who bowed. She departed in a brisk, lively gait on the road towards Pemberley House.
This time, when she called Rory, he raced towards her and remained at her side. Rory turned back several times to glance at Graham. After a few minutes, though, he lowered his ears, wagged his tail, and resumed his usual jaunty gait, scouring the area for interesting scents.
Chapter 2: An Extraordinarily Popular Guest
Darcy
From our position on an outdoor bench, Elizabeth and I oversaw the charming antics of Bennet and Rory as the duo played a game of chase on the expanse of sward. To my annoyance, Graham failed to take my suggestion that he relax in his guest chamber. Instead, he sat in a nearby chair.
The musical sounds of Bennet’s laughter filled the air, along with the raucous tones of Rory’s periodic barks. I could not keep from smiling at their display. Our collie thrust his head out from time to time as though to nip at Bennet’s heels—inspiring jubilant squeals and extra bursts of speed from my son—but refrained from making contact.
“Rory chase!” Bennet yelled the fiat whilst he zigzagged in the grass. Our child had not yet mastered the enunciation of theletter “R,” so the uninitiated may have presumed our dog’s name to be “Wowy.” At random intervals, Bennet jerked to a stop and made sudden turns to become the pursuer.
Graham swung his arm towards the boisterous pair. “That dog makes an admirable nursemaid. After all, the best way to ensure a well-behaved child is to thoroughly tire him out.”
My wife waved to Bennet as he ran near her. “Indeed, you are correct. We had collies at my father’s estate, Longbourn, so I have long known how gentle they tend to be with children. Rory has not been a disappointment.”
Bennet’s pace slowed, an indication of his growing weariness. He would soon be ready for his breakfast.
