Mr. Darcy Takes the Plunge by J. Marie Croft Page B

I took several wrong terns before entering the correct doorway, which was so low I had to duck. I feathered their nest with a swift purchase of a large clutch of ostrich and peacock plumage but was in a hurry and may have been gulled by their soaring prices. I managed to swallow my spleen and sign my name with an ornate goose quill, and then the owlish Mr. Fletcher perched himself on the counter and had the pluck to say our patronage would be a feather in his cap. Mr. Byrd, the pompous coxcomb, agreed and crowed that customers would soon flock to their shop. To be honest, Georgie, I found both men to be quite flighty; and they may, in fact, have been robin me.
    Fortunately, I was also able to obtain the desired cake just one block away. The package is being dispatched tout de sweet, my errands were completed more rapidly than expected, and I was able to meet, at the appointed hour, four very lovely ladies."
    His gaze naturally settled upon one particular lovely lady again; and her cheeks grew rosy as he performed a head to foot, and back again, appreciative appraisal of her person. Lizzy was not affronted and thought he was quite justified in his scrutiny in return for the way she had overtly ogled him at Pemberley.
    With a glint in her eye, Anna explained, "My brother went shopping today because we are often asked to forward certain items from Town to Rosings Park in order to appease, er, satisfy the rather eccentric demands ... I mean, the discriminating tastes of Lady Catherine de Bourgh ... a nutty fruitcake ... and large bird feathers. You see, our aunt really takes the cake for being plume crazy."
    The five entered the Royal Academy building. Lizzy, being a painter, was eager to view J.M.W. Turner's recent Mercury and Herse plus several other of his newest works. She and Darcy stood in front of the masterpiece while the others went in the opposite direction to view portraits.
    "Are you familiar with the depicted mythology, Miss Elizabeth?"
    "Somewhat, Mr. Darcy; I admit I much prefer Ovid's 'Metamorphoses' over alternative versions of the story, as it is less tragic."
    "Indeed, madam, for in Ovid's version Mercury, or Hermes, falls in love with Herse upon first seeing her in Athens and asks for her hand, which I agree is highly preferable over an insane Herse leaping to her death from the Acropolis."
    Elizabeth nodded. "I always enjoy a tale in which the hero and heroine live happily ever after, sir, even if they do have to suffer some misunderstanding, separation, and angst along the way."
    "Ah, but the misunderstanding, separation, and angst are what make the 'happily ever after' more worth the earning, Miss Elizabeth; and a romance story would be quite lacking without it. Shall we move on?"
    "Yes, I am rather curious to see why so many people are gathered in front of a canvas in the alcove over there. It is obvious the artist can certainly draw a crowd."
    "Is that an intended pun, Miss Elizabeth? If so, I am surprised you would stoop to, as Dr. Samuel Johnson called it, 'the lowest form of humour.'"
    "Shamefully, I must confess it was intentional, Mr. Darcy. Please forgive my flippant folly; for I fear I am fated to foolishly follow in the fallible footsteps of my fantastic but formidably farcical father, who is a fancier of the foible and fatuously fond of tomfoolery. Oh, fie! I feel you are fully fed up. I will finally finish with a flourish and thank you for your forbearance. I forthwith promise to forgo and forsake further frustrating frivolity for now but, unfortunately, not forever."
    Darcy stared incredulously at Elizabeth, cleared his throat, and said, "Miss Elizabeth, you must allow me to allay and also alleviate any alarm about an altercation over your alacrity for aloud alliteration. Although allegedly always appearing aloof, I actually ardently admire and approve alert and amusing allegorical allusions. All along, it has been apparent our minds are alike and I, alone, am already an ally and offer my