Page 99 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“To be fair, it was your fault this time,” he pointed out a little heatedly. “We were in the lending library—Lizzy meant to show me to the patrons, you see, and I was waiting patiently in the bottom of the basket, when you snatched me away.” Aunty’s eyes narrowed, and Jeffry gulped. In a more temperate voice, he said, “I’m sure you’d no way of knowing this was not a good time.”

“Y’ve not answered m’question,” Aunty said in a menacing voice.

“Just disappearing and reappearing—but not directly in front of them.” He swore he could see steam coming out of her ears. Jeffry made his voice tiny. “I make certain no one can see me do it.” He chirped and amended his statement with a qualifier. “At least, no human can see me.”

“Are ye usin’ yer authority like I done tell ye to?”

“Yes.” Jeffry scratched his cheek. “I tried to tell Lizzy that Darcy is charming, but she was having none of that. She’s glad that he’s not, as it happens.”

“He isn’t charmin’,” Aunty reminded him. “When’s he ever charmin’?”

That sounded like a rhetorical question to Jeffry so he kept silent.

“She has t’see his good points—his real good points.” Aunty straightened the bedclothes across her stomach and tightened the moss-green shawl about her shoulders. “Did Georgiana pick a puppy?”

“She did.”

“Good, good. And how’s Mary?”

“She’s in love with that Dr. Oscar Gregg.”

“I know it.” Aunty coughed into a tissue before she said, “Are Mary and Georgiana getting’ to be good friends?”

“Yes.” Jeffry stamped on the duvet. “That Wickham is in the neighborhood.”

Aunty swore beneath her breath. “I’ll keep an eye on him from here. You concentrate on the others.”

“I will.”

“You’d best go,” she said.

After a wave of her hand, Jeffry found himself back in the shadows of the closed basket.

*

Lizzy gasped.

“What is it?” Mr. Darcy asked.

She opened the basket on her lap. “There you are, you little rascal.”

“He has returned?”

Lizzy tipped the basket so he could see inside. Jeffry peered out at them. “I think he is sorry for leaving.”

“How can you know that?”

She shrugged. “I often have feelings from animals. Impressions from Jeffry are particularly strong.”

Mr. Darcy picked up his teacup and drained its contents, his steady gaze trained on her. She wondered what he thought about her claim. When he set it down again, he said, “If you are finished your tea, I suggest we ask Mrs. Moore for permission to show him to her patrons before Jeffry disappears again.”

Lizzy closed the basket lid. “You are quite right.” She finished her shortbread biscuit in a single bite and washed it down with her last swallow of tepid tea. Lizzy wiped her fingers on a napkin and put her gloves back on. “I am ready.”

They stood together. Mr. Darcy offered her his arm. She kept the basket and put her other hand on his arm. As it happened, they arrived at the counter when it was empty of patrons.

Mrs. Moore approached, smiling broadly. “Miss Elizabeth, how may I assist you?”

“I would like to present Mr. Darcy of Pemberley House to you, ma’am. He is a close friend to Mr. Bingley of Netherfield.”