“I promise,” the girl said.
“And please tell your mother that she does not have to pay for what I send. It was for you because you took these small, dying puppies and took good care of them and fed them. That is all.”
Elizabeth was still in disbelief listening to the dialogue; she would never have imagined Mr. Darcy would engage in such atender conversation with small children who were unrelated to him.
She was curious about how the three unlikely friends had met, but she could not possibly ask. She turned to leave, feeling she had intruded long enough, when something creaked under her foot. The sound was no louder than a whisper but enough for Mr. Darcy’s dog to hear it. With a bark, the hound ran towards her, its teeth bared, then at Mr. Darcy’s command, he immediately sat, looking at her. Only moments later, the dog seemed to remember her and moved closer with his tongue out, wagging his tail.
Mr. Darcy approached and so did the children, the puppies following them.
“Miss Bennet?”
“Mr. Darcy! Forgive me for disturbing you, sir, I was just walking and—”
“Are you the miss who is visiting Mrs. Collins?” the girl enquired.
“Yes. I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Oh, really? My name is Elizabeth too, but my mama calls me Betsy. She only calls me Elizabeth when I do not behave.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Let me tell you a secret. My mother calls me Lizzy, and she also calls me Elizabeth when she is displeased with me.”
The girl gazed at her with her mouth open, clearly trying to ponder whether she was serious.
“You look like a lady. You cannot misbehave,” the girl finally concluded, and Elizabeth laughed again.
“You are right,” Mr. Darcy suddenly interjected. “Miss Bennet’s behaviour is always without fault. I cannot imagine why anyone would be upset with her.”
He spoke in jest, but Elizabeth’s puzzlement changed into nervousness. Had he just complimented her, or was it only a mere joke?
“Allow me to introduce to you Miss Betsy and Peter. Their mother, Mrs. Gilroy, is a tenant of Lady Catherine’s.”
“No, no,” Peter explained. “My father was the tenant, but he died last year. My mama is a seamstress, and she and my brother work in the garden so we can have food for the winter.”
The boy’s explanation saddened Elizabeth, and she exchanged a glance with Mr. Darcy.
“Peter is correct, of course,” the gentleman answered.
As they spoke, they heard someone calling the children, and a woman appeared. Elizabeth estimated she was Mrs. Gardiner’s age, but she looked exceedingly thin and pale, her simple, dark clothes making her look much older.
Seeing them, the woman turned even paler, lowered her eyes, then attempted a curtsey with her head down.
“Mr. Darcy…forgive me, sir…I am so sorry. I told the children not to bother you…”
“Ma’am, please do not apologise. You certainly have no reason to. The children are very pleasant company, and I enjoy our time together very much. I am glad to talk to them — unless of course you prefer not to allow them to speak to me.”
“Oh no, sir…it is just…I do not want to upset you.”
“I am not upset. Please trust me and let us not mention this again.”
“Mama, Mr. Darcy said you do not have to pay for the food!” the girl said joyfully.
“Mrs. Gilroy, I am sorry if my simple gesture made you uncomfortable. I assure you it is nothing but what I do regularly for my own tenants, especially those who most need it. If you wish to thank me, please just accept it for the children.”
“Thank you, sir,” the woman replied, her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes still low. “You are very generous. I am not accustomed to…I mean…I do not want to upset Lady Catherine. She might be displeased…”
“Then the best solution would be not to tell her,” Mr. Darcy responded with a trace of a smile on his lips. “Would you not agree, Miss Bennet?”
“Yes,” she replied, again surprised by his manner.
