Page 23 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“I have never seen one before,” Maria said. “May we come and see him?”

“I could bring him to Lucas Lodge,” Lizzy suggested. “If I do, all the family can see him.” She shaped the air with her hands. “He is about this size and hairy all over. Tiny ears.”

“The children would love to see him,” Charlotte said, grinning. “Say, have you met Mr. Bingley’s friend, just recently arrived from London?”

“His name is Mr. Darcy and his family seat is in Derbyshire, I believe,” Lizzy said as nonchalantly as possible.

“Is it?” Maria asked. “I have never been there.”

“Toby!” a lady cried softly. “Come back here!”

A lively white terrier trotted over to where Lizzy sat and barked once in greeting.

“Toby,” Lizzy said, smiling and leaning over to greet him with a scratch under his chin. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” the terrier’s owner said sharply, coming to a stop next to Lizzy’s table, “Will you kindly stop befriending my dog and luring him away from me.”

Lizzy grabbed her gloves from her lap, stood, and curtsied slightly. “Good day to you, Mrs. Browning. Toby merely came over to say hello.”

Mrs. Browning, a robust lady the age of Lizzy’s own mother, huffed. “Do not give Toby any treats, if you please.”

Spreading her hands, Lizzy calmly replied, “I have none to give. How is your family, ma’am?”

“Perfectly well,” Mrs. Browning snapped. Leaning over, she snatched up her small terrier and held him to her breast. He whined. “Good day to you.” She turned on her heel and marched away.

“She is in a snit,” Charlotte commented quietly, blinking rapidly. “The dog came over without any coaxing from you.”

“She is jealous,” Mary remarked, coming to join them. As she sat, she added, “What was she thinking, getting a terrier if she wanted a lap dog?”

“Some tisane, Mary?” Charlotte asked, poised to pour another cup.

“Yes, thank you,” Mary said, tugging off her gloves and laying them in her lap before covering them with a napkin. “A pug would have been a better choice.”

Lizzy nodded and sighed. She could not help it if animals liked her. I will not spurn them, either. Most owners welcomed her friendliness toward their pets. Some, however, were like Mrs. Browning, resenting her gift.

“It is not your fault, dearest,” Jane said.

“Perhaps I should not go into public,” Lizzy said in a small voice.

“That is nonsensical,” Mary said trenchantly. “Do not give that woman—and others like her—the power to control your movements.”

The house cat, a gray and white tabby, wandered over between Lizzy and Mary’s chairs. She rubbed against Lizzy’s leg. Lizzy leaned over and stroked her head.

“Hello, Cleo,” she said in a caressing tone. The cat purred.

Mary waved at the cat, “There, you see. The animals would miss you if you became a hermit.”

Cleo moved away to greet other patrons. Lizzy picked up her cup and took a sip of her sweetened tea, letting the warmth spread through her. A server arrived and placed a plate holding a round of Whig teacakes on the table, along with some butter and five saucers.

Lizzy did not feel hungry, but she took a wedge anyway so as not to occasion any urging from her sisters and friends. She hoped no other pets would approach her while she sat in the lending library. Jealous, as Mary suggested, I suppose. Barely had the thought occurred than she felt a bird alight on her hat.

Mrs. Moore cautiously approached, saying softly, “I so hoped this would happen, miss. Please to get him outside if y’can.”

Reaching upward, Lizzy offered her finger to the bird. After a moment of hesitation, the bird jumped onto her finger. She pulled him down and identified him as a male house sparrow.

“How did you come to be inside, little one?” Lizzy asked.

The bird chirped. Standing slowly, Lizzy set her napkin and gloves on her chair before making her way over to the wood-framed glass door. She cupped the sparrow with her second hand when Harris opened the door for her. She took one step outside.