Page 145 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“Elliot will collect them,” Mr. Darcy assured her.

Lizzy rose as well. “Thank you for staying for tea. I will see you tomorrow evening.”

She led them out of the room into the front hall, where Elliot and Stanley helped them with their outer things. Lizzy accepted her own bonnet and gloves, and followed them outside. Mr. Darcy took her hand and bowed over it, making her heart skip a beat. Lizzy and Georgiana embraced, and she watched them climb into the gig and drive away. Elliot bowed to her, and then began walking smartly in the direction of Longbourn Village.

“I need something new to wear in my hair,” Lizzy muttered, trying to contain her racing hope. She crossed the street and headed for her favorite milliner.

Everything worked out well. Can it be that Mr. Darcy truly does not hold my sisters’ behavior against me? Aunty told us to hurry, and I am glad we did, even though Georgiana was holding her own against that miserable Mr. Wickham. Was Aunty trying to avoid answering any of our questions? Or would something more sinister have happened if we had not arrived when we did? I suppose we will never know. Fortunately, Georgiana is now safe with her brother.

Lizzy opened the door and entered the milliner shop. It seemed to her that every lady who might attend the assembly tomorrow night yearned for a furbelow of some type for their toilette. She bumped into someone when she stepped back to avoid colliding with a matron in front of her.

“I beg your pardon,” she said to the person behind her.

“Hello again,” a smooth male voice said.

Lizzy glanced over her shoulder, and her heart jumped a beat. I am not afraid of him. “Mr. Wickham.”

“You are one of the Bennet sisters,” he said, bowing slightly. “By process of elimination, may I assume you are Miss Elizabeth?”

“I am,” she said in clipped tones, and then pressed her lips into a tight line. Lizzy faced forward once more, waiting for her turn at the counter.

“Might I request a spot on your dance card for the assembly?”

“You may request what you wish, but there is no spot on my card for you, sir,” Lizzy said with finality.

“Regrettable,” he replied in a smooth, half-laughing way.

Lizzy huffed. Into her mind came an order. “Get away from him.” Instinctively, Lizzy obeyed. She tapped on the shoulder of the lady in front of her, and said, “Excuse me, if you please. It is an animal emergency.”

“But…I…oh, it is you, Miss Bennet,” the older lady said, scooting over as much as she could.

“Thank you, Mrs. Foggle. How is Bertie?” Lizzy asked, slipping around her. Bertie was her shepherd dog.

“Bertie is back to his usual antics,” Mrs. Foggle swore. “Thank you for your help with him.”

“You are welcome.” Using this method, Lizzy squeezed her way to the front of the line where she ducked under the open portion of the counter and hastened through the curtain that barred the way to the living quarters beyond. She counted the Abbots as her friends. They said nothing to gainsay her invasion into their private quarters as they were too busy with their clients. Lizzy hurried past their parlor, entering the kitchen where she sat at the spotless pine table and struggled to calm her nerves.

I do not like that man. There is something about him, something I cannot quite put my finger on, but I feel a sense of menace from him. He only appears gentlemanly. And from whence did that order come? It sounded like the traveller lady—Aunty. She must be fey.

“Hello, Miss Lizzy.”

Lizzy jumped and looked across the table at a young female child, curly-headed, with wide-set blue eyes, standing next to another kitchen chair, a poppet in her arms. A white and brown terrier trotted over to Lizzy, who leaned over and petted his head.

“I didn’t know y’was comin’ today.”

“Hello, Rebecca. And hello to you too, Spotty,” Lizzy said, taking a deep breath, straightening, and letting it out in a rush. “I just stopped in for a moment to rest and get a glass of water.”

“We got cold tea,” Rebecca said, grinning as though she had made a portentous announcement. “It’s over there,” she said, pointing at a pitcher on the counter, covered by a blue square of weighted linen. “It’s got honey in it.”

“May I have some?” Lizzy asked, rising.

Rebecca nodded rapidly.

“Do you want some?” Lizzy asked as she headed to the dresser where Mrs. Abbot kept her glasses.

“Yes, please,” Rebecca said.

Lizzy poured some of the green brew for her, and then took a glass for herself. She smelled it and took a sip—green sorrel leaf tea, sweetened with honey. Lizzy set Rebecca’s small glass down on the table. The littlest Abbot daughter put her poppet on the table and scrambled onto the chair next to the drink. Lizzy returned to her seat.