The Ballad of Gregoire Darcy by Marsha Altman Page B

understand.” He kissed her. “Thank you. Oh, and you might want to cover your ears.”
    It was good advice. The children collectively screamed in excitement upon seeing the animal perched on Bingley’s shoulder, and it screamed right back at them. It took him a full minute to shush eight children.

    â€œIs that a monkey?”
    â€œWhat’s its name?”
    â€œCan I stroke it?”
    â€œCan we keep it?”
    â€œDoes it have to live in a zoo?”
    â€œCan I hold it?”
    â€œDoes it bite?”
    â€œChildren,” he said calmly, with as much authority as Charles Bingley could muster, “this is Monkey. Yes, that is his name. Not very original, but you will remember it. He doesn’t bite unless you hurt him, so as with any pet or person, you must treat him with respect. That means no tossing him or tugging him or pulling on his tail.You can hold him one at a time. Georgiana?” He dealt with the crowd of boos. “She’s the oldest.”
    â€œNot by much!” said Geoffrey.
    Georgiana smiled triumphantly as she took the monkey into her arms. One by one, they all met Monkey, though Cassandra and Sarah were frightened of him, and Edmund was too proud to admit that he was, but passed him off rather quickly. Perhaps the most excited person was the last person in line, Mr. Bennet. “Now here is something I never thought I would see,” he said as the monkey climbed up onto his bald spot and sat down.
    â€œIf he gets upset, just let him run up a tree or something, and I’ll come get him down,” he told Elizabeth before disappearing with Jane. Darcy mysteriously did not offer to help with monkey wrangling and vanished into the library as quickly as he could.

    Jane and Charles found a spot far away from the house, where they could see Oakham Mount, a place where they had regularly walked during their engagement. The view had not changed, but they were not interested in the view.
    â€œI missed you,” he said between kisses. “I’m sorry I’m a little hairy—and burned. And freckled.”

    â€œYou’re perfect,” she said.
    They sat together on a large stump, looking out at the wild and content to just sit together with Bingley’s arm around his wife’s shoulder. “I would regale you with stories, but to be honest, I am utterly exhausted.” He chuckled. “What happened while I was gone?”
    â€œLady Kincaid had a son. His name is Robert.”
    â€œIt went well?”
    â€œI think so. Mr. Darcy seemed pleased at his sister’s good health. Lizzy was ecstatic, of course. They stood as godparents.”
    â€œWas Grégoire there?”
    â€œHe did not come in time. He should be here in a month or two, maybe. It is not set.” She looked up at him. “My mother had a stroke.”
    â€œI’m so sorry—”
    â€œIt was minor. Papa said he didn’t notice it for a few days.”
    â€œCan anything be done?”
    â€œNo, aside from not saying anything when she says something strange.”
    He put his other arm around her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
    â€œIt was only a few weeks ago.”
    He kissed her on her forehead. “I’m still sorry.”
    â€œWe always assumed she would outlive him. Do you suppose it would be better if—”
    He hushed her. “We don’t know the future. All we know is your parents are both alive and relatively well. For now, that is enough.”

CHAPTER 9
    A Long-Expected Party

    MR. BENNET, NOT KNOWN to be a stingy man with his family (which had almost proved to be his ruin with his youngest daughter), spared no expense. And anyone with even the slightest connection to the family was invited. Though Hertfordshire was no Derbyshire, by its own standards this was a grand celebration. Mr. Bennet did not host a ball (“My daughters are well settled, thank you very much”). Instead, it was a