Every face turned to her. A few people even smiled at her gentle teasing.
“Mrs. Higgins,” she said kindly, “I was here a few hours ago, and you were not using a ladle to serve your cider then. Is it possible you left it at home? Perhaps to polish it so it is ready for Christmas?”
The older woman thought for a moment. “You may be right.”
“And Mr. Rutherford,” Miss Bennet continued, “I saw a pair of boots like the ones you describe. One of your neighbours saved them from a dog and took them to Mr. Milner for safekeeping. You may enquire at the parsonage for them.”
Mr. Rutherford doffed his hat, looking relieved. “I thank you, Miss Bennet.”
“Mrs. Travis?”
“Yes?”
“Selina is a beautiful cat. I am sorry she was treated so poorly.” She reached into her reticule and withdrew a ribbon the colour of a summer sky. “Please give this to her with my compliments.”
The ribbon would have looked wonderful in Miss Bennet’s dark hair. Darcy knew it was wrong to resent the cat, but a small part of him did. As Miss Bennet said a few more things that soothed those present with gentle logic and genuine warmth, he could only observe with gratitude. The villagers’ anxiety seemed to melt away, replaced by sheepish smiles and chuckles. Now everything was settled, they began to disperse, most moving back to their stalls or returning to their shopping.
Miss Bennet held the cat while Mrs. Travis tied the ribbon around the beast’s neck. She caught his eye again and smiled.
When even Mrs. Travis had wandered away to boast about her cat’s new adornment, Darcy approached.
“I must thank you for the timely rescue, Miss Bennet.”
“Not at all, Mr. Darcy,” she replied, caught up in brushing the cat hair from her cloak. “Consider us even.”
He offered her a little bow. “A cat’s ribbon was not what I expected to be discussing this morning.”
She smiled. “Do not forget the boots. It was fortunate for you I saw them when I visited Mr. Milner today.”
“It was indeed. And the ladle?”
“Only a guess. I truly had been past her stall earlier and did not see her using it then. And before you ask, I doubt Selina ever had a ribbon.”
“Then why would you offer your own?”
“Mrs. Travis is a widow, judging from the black edging on her gown. I suspect she dotes on her cat and has long wished to have a ribbon for her but can no longer afford one. It is such a little thing when I have been so blessed.”
She was so matter-of-fact about her act of generosity that Darcy could only feel chagrined he had not considered Mrs. Travis’s situation. He always attempted to preserve a man’s dignity when they did business together, but he had not applied the same behaviour to the widow.
“You are a marvel, madam.”
“Not at all, Mr. Darcy. I have many faults. You simply do not know me well enough to enumerate them.” She smiled winsomely. “One of my flaws is an untoward enjoyment of frightening tales. One day you shall have to allow me to read your magistrate’s report about the Christmas duchess who haunts Lambton.”
Darcy groaned, but not without a chuckle. “I assure you, madam, there will be no ghostly duchess in my report. In fact, I need not write one at all now. Thank you for that.”
Miss Bennet shook her head. “Pity. It would have made for entertaining reading.” She paused, studying him for a moment. “You appear as though you could use a respite from all this excitement, sir.”
“I would not say no to a moment of peace,” Darcy admitted, surprising himself with his candour.
“Would you like to join us for tea at Hollydale? We could discuss your past investigations in a lessspiritedenvironment.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “That was a terrible joke.”
She laughed. “You are one to talk. Boots, Mr. Darcy?”
“That was not even my joke. I simply did not realise what I was saying until it was too late.”
“That does not make it better.” She finished with her cloak and looked up at him with a knowing smile. “Shall we see you at Hollydale, sir?”
