Page 86 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“By-the-by, how did you find Miss Mary’s playing?” he asked. “And did you find something to play together?”

Georgiana could hear the effort he was making to sound more himself. Frowning, she dragged her thoughts away from puppies and concerns over Fitz’s current feelings. “Mary is technically proficient.”

“But?”

“But her playing is…well…wooden. I do not believe she enjoys the activity,” Georgiana confessed. “She has spent many hours practicing—that is clear—but…”

“Perhaps she has had uninspiring instructors?” Fitz suggested. “Do you recall Mrs. March?”

Georgiana thought for a moment. “Oh, yes. My second instructress. She did not stay long.”

“I caught her slapping the back of your hands when you missed a note,” her brother said grimly. “You were only six. You were bound to make mistakes. I doubt you could have learned to play with feeling if she had remained your instructress.”

“You made Papa dismiss her?”

“I did. He was as appalled as I, mind.”

“I liked my next instructor, though.” Georgiana brushed her hand against an itchy spot on her cheek. “You may be right about Mary. She may not have had an instructor with more than adequate skill. Mary said Miss Bennet and Lizzy are only mediocre players.” She paused and took a breath as she thought back to Fitz’s question. Oh, yes. “We did find a lovely air that will make an excellent duet.”

“Do you mean to return soon to practice the piece?” Fitz asked.

“Yes, tomorrow morning, if it is no bother for you to take me?”

Fitz smiled down at her. “None at all.”

“You will be able to visit with Lizzy as well,” she suggested, grinning back at him.

“If she is available, I shall ask her to join me for a walk.”

They drove for a few minutes in companionable silence. Georgiana broke the silence first.

“There seems to be a number of militia officers about town,” she commented. Fitz stiffened slightly. Georgiana gazed up at him inquiringly. “What is amiss?”

Fitz shook his head and ignored her remark. “We turn here.” He pointed over the hedgerows. “See, there? That is our destination.”

Georgiana craned her neck and spied the barn and farmhouse. Exhilaration coursed through her, and she forgot about Fitz’s odd behavior.

When they reached the farm, Mr. and Mrs. Godbed awaited them with their three children standing beside them. Mrs. Godbed and her daughter curtsied to Georgiana and Fitz. Mr. Godbed and his sons removed their caps.

“Good day, Mr. Godbed, Mrs. Godbed,” Fitz said in a genial fashion. “May I present my sister, Miss Darcy?”

“Yes, indeed,” Mrs. Godbed said, beaming at Georgiana. “These are me children, Tommy, Janice, and Gilbert, who are fourteen, twelve, and eight.”

“How do you do?” Georgiana asked, putting on her best and warmest smile. “I am pleased to meet all of you. But I must admit, that I am looking forward ever so much to meeting the puppies.”

“Just this way, sir, and miss,” Mr. Godbed said, gesturing toward the back of the house. “Me wife ‘as a spot fer ye t’meet the little rascals. Iffen ye follows ‘er, we’ll fetch t’puppies.” To his children, he said, “Come wi’ me, now, and we’ll bring those puppies.”

“Aye, dad,” the children said.

Georgiana and Fitz followed the farmwife to a shed attached to the back of the house. This must be the spot Fitz told me of yesterday. How charming.

“Miss, I’ve brewed us a lovely concoction of lemon balm and elderflower,” Mrs. Godbed said, indicating the pitcher of cold tea. “I’ve added a little honey to it. I ‘ope it’s to yer likin’.”

“I am certain it will be delicious and refreshing,” Georgiana said. She glanced around at the four chairs ranged in a semi-circle—two on each side of the table. “Where should I sit?”

“This is where I sat yesterday,” her brother said, holding on to the back of a kitchen chair that faced the barnyard. “You sit here so you can watch for the puppies.”

“Aye, miss,” Mrs. Godbed said. She poured out two glasses of the cool tea and handed one to Georgiana. As soon as Fitz sat, she presented his to him. “I’ve got us some pumpkin tarts, today. I put cinnamon in the custard.”