Page 11 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

She is disgusted by my animals—as usual. I could not have gotten this love of animals from her.

“Miss Elizabeth is doing me a great favor, ma’am,” Mr. Bingley said, smiling warmly at Lizzy before grinning at her mother. “I have just begun to keep a flock of sheep and one of them is already poorly. When I purchased the flock, his mother still lived, but she has since died. I am a sorry excuse for a farmer, I know.”

Mrs. Bennet lost her pinched look with the arrival of a sympathetic expression. “My dear sir. No one learns to be a farmer overnight. Well, well, I suppose you must have your way and not come in for tea. I hope to see you this afternoon when you return to take our Jane out for a drive.”

What a harridan. She only acted conciliatory after she remembered Bingley is stepping out with her oldest daughter. Darcy glanced sideways at Miss Elizabeth and caught her cooing over the guinea pig, ignoring her mother. I suppose she is used to her own mother’s behavior. Even so, it cannot be easy to have a parent who cares nothing for your chief interest. She met his gaze, then, and he caught the twinkle in their dark depths.

“Is this a test?” he whispered for her ears only.

Miss Elizabeth chuckled.

“Lizzy?” her mother called, her voice sharp and accusing. “What are you laughing at?”

“Mama,” she said so sweetly that Darcy’s back teeth hurt, “Jeffry’s whiskers tickled my nose.” She held up the guinea pig. “See? Is he not adorable?”

Mrs. Bennet visibly shuddered. “Keep it away from me. I suppose it is another rodent?”

“He is,” Miss Elizabeth confirmed.

“Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, I warrant we are the only house in the neighborhood who welcomes rodents into their homes,” Mrs. Bennet said in an attempt at drollery that did not quite work. “See, there? My daughter also has a mouse on her shoulder.”

“What is your field-mouse’s name, Miss Bennet?” Darcy asked.

“Squeaky,” she replied. “It is not a particularly imaginative name.”

“Perhaps you might call your next mouse pet, Sir Isaac,” Darcy suggested.

“Do not encourage her, sir,” Mrs. Bennet said, rolling her eyes. “Though, the Lord knows Lizzy needs none.”

In a whisper, Miss Elizabeth admonished him, saying, “It is not polite to mention next pets when the last one is still alive.”

“Darcy, how could you?” Bingley asked, grinning at him.

“I beg your pardon,” Darcy said with appropriate gravity.

Harry chuffed. Darcy realized the dog was staring at the mouse and the guinea pig. Miss Elizabeth, to his surprise, crouched so Harry could examine Jeffry.

“He is doing very well, thank you,” she said to the dog. Harry’s tongue shot out and bathed her cheek with a dog-kiss. “You are a sweety.”

“Elizabeth Bennet!”

“Yes, Mama?” she asked, rising and putting the guinea pig back in her capacious pocket. Miss Elizabeth folded her hands in front of her and waited, the picture of innocent patience.

Mrs. Bennet stared at her, saying nothing. Bingley’s dogcart came around from the stables, drawing everyone’s attention. Darcy and Bingley bowed to their hostess and to Miss Elizabeth, who curtsied back.

“Have a pleasant day, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Elizabeth said graciously. “Mr. Bingley, I will keep you informed of your lamb’s recovery.”

“See you soon,” Mrs. Bennet cried, waving her handkerchief at them from the porch.

Miss Elizabeth waited for them to climb into the dogcart before she turned and strolled back toward the side of the house, presumably meaning to return to her menagerie. Darcy watched her progress until she was lost to view.

As soon as the dogcart made it through the gates, he pithily said, “I pity any man who will have that woman as his mother-in-law.”

“Do you?” Bingley asked in a neutral voice. He shrugged. “She is a lively woman, no doubt, but she means well.”

“Hmm,” Darcy hummed darkly, his brow furrowed.

“It is anxiety for her daughters’ fate that makes her behave the way she does.” Bingley nodded at a farmer who touched his brow to them as they passed him on the lane. “The estate is entailed, you see, to a distant cousin whom they have never met. Upon their marriage, or their father’s death, Mrs. Bennet and her daughters will receive only a pittance.”