The cow jump'd over the moon,
The little dog laugh'd to see such craft,
And the fork ran away with the spoon.
“Sing my version, Lizzy,” Miss Lydia asked as she leaned into her sister.
Without hesitation, Miss Elizabeth continued.
Hey diddle diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow slept in until noon,
Lydia laugh'd at a cow so daft,
And the Fork danced the waltz with the Spoon.
“Do a verse for Mr. Darcy, please,” Miss Lydia asked, much to his embarrassment, especially when she rested her chin on her clasped hands. “He is my hero!”
That was all he needed.With every passing second, his face burned hotter until he guessed that he resembled a ripe tomato. All eyes in the room seemed to be on him.
He shifted from one foot to the other, hoping beyond hope that the verse was at the least flattering.
Finally, Miss Elizabeth sang:
Hey diddle diddle,
The Cat told a riddle,
The hero gave the maiden a boon,
The little girl laugh'd to see his kind act,
And the Fork became friends with the Spoon.
Miss Elizabeth was clever. Once she finished, there was not a somber face in the room except Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Even Cook smiled.
Miss Bennet helped her mother to stand. “Come, Mama. Do keep Lydia company, for she has had a terrible fright. Kitty, you should also attend your sister. Mary, if you would support Mama.” When the middle girl started to complain, Miss Bennet said, “Mary, I believe it is the Christian thing to do.” Mary Bennet moved quickly into place.
Mrs. Bennet not only sat beside her youngest, but she pulled the girl into a warm embrace, saying nothing about the heroics of her second daughter. Miss Elizabeth rose to make way for her siblings.
Movement to his left drew his attention away. Caroline Bingley sidled close.
“You must wish you were already returned to London where society”—she sneered at the Bennets gathered in front of the fire—“is refined. Louisa and I are ready to depart as soon as the carriage can be ordered. With Charles and Hurst in their cups, we hope for the escort of two courageous gentlemen such as yourself and Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
Without hesitation, he replied, “Are you not our hostess? Would you leave your neighbors andfriendsto suffer in your own house without your oversight, especially since they were for your ball? You would risk travel in this weather without a care for the cattle and servants?”
Ignoring her gaping mouth, colorless skin, and wide-eyed shock, he barely tipped his head to her. “Pardon me, Miss Bingley.”
“But. but…”
“Would you place Colonel Fitzwilliam and myself in the center of the danger of a storm unlike any other I have experienced before so you might avoid the responsibilities inherent in your position? I cannot condone your including us in your selfish planning, Miss Bingley. You know nothing of what I wish or want.” Darcy easily ignored her sputtering. Instead, he approached his cousin, standing apart in a far corner. Richard’s eyes were fixed on Miss Jane Bennet. His relief was palpable, for it was not Miss Elizabeth who captured Richard’s attention.
“She is Bingley’s angel?” Richard asked.
“She is.”
