Page 92 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“You sound confident.”

“I am. But not because of Flower’s intelligence.”

“No?”

“No. The act of looking after an animal is what will help. A pet—particularly a dog—encourages physical activity. Routines must be established for the benefit of the pet, which will help with Georgiana’s anxiety because routines are comforting. Flower will offer nonjudgemental emotional support, particularly when stressful moments make her feel anxious.”

They had reached the road through Longbourn Village. As they passed the occasional villager, that person would curtsy or touch their caps in greeting. Miss Elizabeth responded with smiles and graceful gestures of acknowledgement. At one point, a small boy raced toward them, carrying a little black lump in his arms.

“Look, look, Miss Elizabeth! Our mama cat ‘ad kittens.”

She crouched down and took the tiny bundle of fur from the boy, cupping her hands around it. Harry sniffed it once, and then ignored it. “So, she did, Benny. But this little one cannot even open its eyes. He needs to stay with his mama for a time still. Can you tell that it is hungry?”

“Yes, miss,” Benny said, his lip quivering. “I want t’keep ‘im but Da says we can’t.”

“Let us take it back to its mama,” Miss Elizabeth said. “Can you carry it safely?”

“Yes, miss,” Benny said, tears in his eyes.

She passed him back to the little boy, who could not have been older than four. He put both hands around the black bundle and held the kitten close to his chest.

Darcy obligingly escorted Miss Elizabeth to a small holding just at the edge of the village, interested in how she would deal with Benny’s father. The more Darcy saw of her interactions with the farming class, the more he believed her capable of being of assistance to his many tenant farmers. He needed a wife who could do more than grace his drawing rooms and dining halls. He longed for a true helpmeet. He wanted someone who would love the “work” of Pemberley. Someone who wished to be involved in it, not just a wife who tolerated living there until it was time to return to London for the season.

A young farmer looked up from his work on a wagon wheel and spied them entering his farmyard with his son. He straightened immediately and came quickly toward them. He stood as tall as Darcy, sandy-haired, wide-shouldered, and strong, with blue eyes and a pleasant, freckled face.

“Miss Elizabeth, ma’am,” he said, pulling off his cap. “Welcome.” He frowned when he focused his attention on Benny. “What brings y’to visit, miss?”

“Mr. Grant,” Miss Elizabeth said, smiling warmly at him, “may I introduce my companion, Mr. Darcy? He is visiting Mr. Bingley.”

“Mr. Grant,” Darcy said, nodding.

“Sir,” the farmer said, turning his cap around in his hands. He looked down at his son. “Benny, what’ve ye got there?”

“Kitty,” Benny explained succinctly. “Miss Elizabeth said I got t’give ‘im back to ‘is mama.”

“Hop to it, then,” Mr. Grant said. They watched Benny drag his feet toward the barn. Finally, he said, “Our Benny wants us t’keep all the kittens, Miss. But we already ‘ave three barn cats. This’s Soot’s second litter this year, and she ‘ad eight kittens this time.”

“We will take four of the new ones in three months’ time,” Miss Elizabeth said. “Two of our three barn cats are getting too old to be good mousers. Soot is an excellent mouser, is she not? Her skills will be passed on to her young. Our stable could use another companion cat, as well.”

“Miss,” Mr. Grant said. He scratched his stubbly chin. “Can I tell others what y’said about the kittens bein’ good mousers?”

“You may. How is her first litter doing?” Miss Elizabeth asked.

“They’re all gone but fer one,” Mr. Grant told her. “That made Benny a might sad. He’s got t’learn about the reality of animals on a farm.”

“He will have plenty of opportunities to do so,” Miss Elizabeth said trenchantly. “Perhaps, Mr. Grant you could consider the wisdom of having a house cat—one of this new litter for Benny to look after—so he will learn responsibility. Will Mrs. Grant permit it?”

Mr. Grant slowly nodded. “She will, if the cat will get rid of the mice that come inside during the winter.”

Miss Elizabeth chuckled. “Pray permit the kitten to grow into that chore before you give up on him. Now, while I am here, how is your young bullock growing?”

Mr. Grant grinned and spread his arms wide. “He’s grand, miss. Thankee fer askin’.”

“That is excellent news. If you will excuse us?” she asked. “Mr. Darcy and I have a place to be in Meryton.”

“O’course, Miss Elizabeth, ma’am,” Mr. Grant said “I’ll bring round those three kittens after Christmas, miss.”

“And I will give you a penny each for them,” Miss Elizabeth promised.