Pooches and Prejudice, Chapter 2

~Please do not archive~

Chapter 2

The very next day, while Cookie and Eliza, her helper, tend their garden, I sniff around to see if there are any pests that need to be chased away. A stray cat lurks in the hedges, and I gleefully chase her into the stable. That darn cat runs up into one of the upper lofts that I can’t reach, and I plop onto a patch of straw to wait her out.

Edward, the horse groomer and family coachman, has taken out the carriage, and he leads the matched pair, Fielding and Cowper, to hook them on.

Mr. Bennet, the master of the house, walks in. “Ah, almost ready, I see, Edward,” he comments.

Edward tightens a strap. “Yes, sir. As soon as it is secure, I will be ready to go.”

“Very good, very good.”

“Will Mrs. Bennet or any of your daughters be joining you today, sir?”

“No, Edward, they will not. As a matter of fact, this errand is something of a surprise for them. If anyone should happen to ask, please inform them that I was attending to business in Meryton.”

“Very good, sir. Is that our destination then, Meryton?”

Mr. Bennet chuckles. “No, indeed, Edward. I shall call on the new tenant of Netherfield Park. You see, Mrs. Bennet wants me to visit him so that our families might be acquainted, but I told her I shall not visit him. Now that I am visiting him, it will be a pleasant surprise.”

Edward looks a bit confused but only says, “Yes, sir. Netherfield Park.” He finishes his work and opens the carriage door. “As you are already here, sir, and this is a secret errand, I take it you wish to enter here in the stable?”

“You read my mind, Edward,” says Mr. Bennet, getting into the carriage. Edward climbs to his driver’s seat and they whisk away.

~~~

I soon grow bored of waiting for Cat Face, so I return to the garden. Cookie and Eliza have finished weeding and are gathering food to take inside.

Eliza gathers a handful of lavender to her face and inhales deeply. “Miss Withers, I do love lavender so. May I please dry some out for my own personal use? I want my clothes to be scented with lavender.”

Cookie clucks her tongue at her assistant. “The family don’t pay us to smell good, they pay us to cook and serve their meals. That lavender is going into a nice batch of shortbread for flavoring, and any that we dry, Della and Catherine will take to put into all the ladies’ drawers so that their clothing will smell nice. It would not do if the kitchen help smelled the same as the ladies of the house.”

Eliza looks so disappointed that Cookie softens. “There, there, girl. We have a nice large crop of it this year. Perhaps you can have a sprig or two.” Eliza brightens at this prospect.

I trot into the kitchen and up the stairs. Althea, the housemaid, sees me and gasps softly. “Blossom, no!” she scolds as she rushes toward me. I freeze and cower in place. She deftly scoops me up into her arms even though she still holds the feather duster in one hand.

We head into the housekeeper’s room. Mrs. Hill, tending to some papers, looks up. “What is it, Althea?”

Althea, still holding me in her arms, curtseys awkwardly. “Blossom must have been digging again. She has muddy paws.”

Mrs. Hill rises. “That will not do. Let me help you.” She turns to a basin and pours some water into it from a Wedgwood pitcher. She pulls a rag from a small cabinet, wets it, and wrings it out. Althea positions me so that she supports my bum and my feet protrude out toward Mrs. Hill, and the capable older lady wipes my paws firmly but gently so that my feet are soon clean. “What did you get into, you silly dog?” Mrs. Hill asks me teasingly as she also wipes my nose, ears, and tail. “You have dirt in these pretty ears! You must take care to keep your long, silky hair as clean as possible or the Bennets will not want you up on their laps.”

Once I am clean enough for their liking, Althea sets me down on the floor. I scamper to the drawing room. My sisters sit at the table, studying. Jane insists that Kitty and Lydia need to be educated, so several days a week, she and Lizzie force the younger girls to attend to lessons. I can sense the misery in the room. Jane converses with an unwilling Kitty in some language I don’t understand, and Lizzie quizzes Lydia on some numbers while the younger sister rests her head on her hand and rolls her eyes.

Mary sits off to the side on the sofa. No one has to force her to study. I leap up next to her and lie down, and she absentmindedly strokes my now-clean ears as she reads. How relaxing! I close my eyes and take a much-deserved nap.

When I awaken, my sisters are clearing their learning materials, which is boring, so I head once again downstairs into the kitchen.

While Cookie and Eliza prepare supper, the butler and the footman gather the platters and serving utensils that they will use to serve the meal. Edward has obviously returned from his errand with Mr. Bennet and put the horse and carriage away, for he sits in a corner whittling a small piece of wood as he talks.

“So the new chap over at Netherfield has quite an income, it seems. While I waited for Mr. B, I got to talkin’ to his stable hands. He has two coachmen and six grooms, and a fancy carriage and an everyday carriage. Them horses of his are some of the prettiest matched sets I ever seen.”

“Now, Edward, do not let our new neighbor’s show of wealth cause you to look down upon your master’s possessions,” warns Steventon, the butler.

“Oh, no, I mean no disrespect to Mr. B. I love our horses, and I take good care of our carriage. But this Mr. Bingley only recently came of age, so everything he owns is new.”

“He sounds like a show-off to me,” remarks James, the footman. He sees me and bends down to scratch me behind my ears.

Prunella walks by, carrying a tray that she scrubbed earlier. She swats James on the arm. “Don’t touch that bleedin’ dog and then handle the family’s supper! That’s disgusting!”

“Oh, James, don’t pet the dog while you’re working. Go and wash your hands,” says Steventon.

“Aye aye, captain. I was going to anyway,” says James, scampering toward Prunella’s scullery area.

Soon the food is on platters and trays, and Steventon, James, Mrs. Hill, Althea, and Eliza carry it upstairs for the family. Mrs. Withers sets a bowl of my food on the floor, and I eagerly scamper over to the corner to gobble it up. Then I go upstairs to do my favorite activity, watching the humans eat. When I sit next to one of their chairs, all I have to do is look up at them, and sometimes they pass me a bite! If they ignore me, I stand up on my hind legs to indicate that I would like whatever delicious-smelling food they have. That works best on Kitty and Lydia.

After supper, my mistress seems angry at the master. The humans have a bit of tiresome conversation where I can sense that Mistress is tense and Master thinks teasing her is funny. I do not appreciate this. I would love to comfort her, but she paces about the room, fretting over Master’s remarks. Four of my human sisters sit around the table, working on some sewing project, so I head over to Mary, who is seated in the comfortable chair by the fire. I jump up on her lap, and she moves her book to accommodate me. Once I settle, she strokes my ears and scratches between my ears. Ah, what bliss!

Even though most of the conversation is between the two oldest humans, suddenly, Master turns to Mary. “What say you, Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read great books, and make extracts.”

Mary stops petting me and looks dumbfounded at her father. I feel her heart rate increase. She cannot think of anything to say to whatever Master has asked, and I can tell it distresses her.

Master does not press the issue with Mary. He returns his attention to his wife and reveals that he has pulled a prank on them all today, and she is delighted that he fooled her! All my sisters talk about the new neighbor that the master has visited, and he tells them unhelpful descriptive details of the man.

After a while, Master grows tired of discussing the new neighbor, and he leaves.

Mistress picks up some mending and happily sews as she talks to my sisters. “What an excellent father you have, girls. I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness; or me either, for that matter. At our time of life, it is not so pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day; but for your sakes we would do anything.

“Lydia, my love, though you are the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball.”

Lydia scoops me up in her arms and whirls me around. “Oh, I am not afraid; for though I am the youngest, I’m the tallest.”

For the rest of the evening, my sisters take turns dancing with me and discussing the new neighbor until Mary finally holds me against her chest and tiptoes out of the room.

“I should have told Papa that it is good to make new acquaintances,” she says as she carries me up the stairs. “I also should have told Papa that it is wicked to visit our new neighbors and not tell Mama, when he knows how anxious she was for him to do so. How he loves to tease us! Oh, well, Blossom, at least you love me and never try to trick me.” I lick her cheek to assure her that I do love her very much.