Lizzy and the Lord of Frogs

by Lady Waller

  His group of lady frogs bounced through the bushes and landed near him. Two more had joined the fray, making the total count ten. All he had to do now was climb down the ravine, retrieve the watch, and survive another night as a frog.

  A bug buzzed by and he snapped out his tongue. How simple his life was a few days prior when his biggest concern was which woman to ask to dance.

  §

  Elizabeth rushed through the garden to the kitchen door. Mama greeted her with a fluttering of hands and a jumbling of words.

  “Calm down, Mama.” She entered the kitchen and her stomach protested the fact she hadn’t eaten in a few hours. “Your poor nerves cannot take the excitement.”

  “What do you know of my nerves?” Mama clutched her hands to her chest. “Neither Mr. Collins nor your sisters have seen you for hours. And now you sneak in dressed as a scullery maid. What will he think of us?”

  Elizabeth pulled off the white bonnet and removed the apron. Cook stirred the stew at the stove and she found it hard to concentrate on her mother’s concerns. “Why should I care what our cousin thinks of me?”

  Mama raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. “He has confessed to me that Lady de Bourgh has instructed him to find a wife. It would do well for him to choose one of you girls. Except for Jane, of course, who should expect a proposal from Mr. Bingley.”

  With her mind heavy on her adventures, she’d forgotten about the mystery regarding Mr. Darcy’s disappearance. Her heart hoped for good news. “Did Mr. Bingley find Mr. Darcy?”

  “No. They haven’t found him and for that reason alone you are not allowed to travel back into those woods.”

  “Mama, really.” She smoothed down her hair and wiped away some of the dead leaves stuck to her skirt. “There are no dangers in those woods. I’m sure his absence has a simple explanation.”

  “Your father and Jane returned moments before you did. We shall all sit down and dine for supper as soon as you change.” Mama turned her back on Elizabeth and shooed a maid out of the way. “You will sit next to Mr. Collins and apologize for your behavior today.”

  Elizabeth snatched a sweet roll from the counter and rushed out of the room. She did not wish to further her argument with her mother, but she had to return to the woods the next morning in order to retrieve Papa’s pocket watch. As far as an apology, she couldn’t imagine why she would owe one to the insufferable Mr. Collins.

  She pinched off a large section of the roll and shoved it in her mouth. Could her hunger have been the reason she imagined a talking frog? Perhaps the stress of dropping the watch had boosted her imagination. She wouldn’t be the first person whose mind had played wily tricks on them.

  Jane greeted her in the hallway outside their room. She pulled the remainder of the sweet roll from Elizabeth’s hands and popped it in her mouth. After she swallowed the mouthful, her gaze travelled up and down Elizabeth’s gown. “What trouble have you gotten yourself into now?”

  She could confide almost anything in her sister, but admitting to such nonsense as talking animals would draw nothing but skepticism and worry. “No trouble, unless you count the injury to the reputation of our family.” She winked and lowered her voice. “Mr. Collins may not have one of us now.”

  “Do not joke about such things, Lizzy.” Jane turned so Elizabeth could unbutton the back of her dress. “It would do Papa’s heart good to see Longbourn stay with someone in our family.”

  A twinge of guilt fluttered in her stomach. Because Mama usually took the center of attention with her matchmaking attempts, she often forgot how her father perceived his daughters’ lack of fortune and marriage statuses.

  Elizabeth turned her back so that Jane could undo her buttons next. “What a world we live in where we can’t marry a man for his virtues instead of his purse size.”

  “What a world indeed,” Jane said. They both slid off their dresses and Jane gasped. “I almost forgot to tell you. I saw your Mr. Wickham leading a search party in the woods.”

  Elizabeth’s heart beat faster. “See what I mean by virtue? Even though Mr. Darcy has tried to ruin Mr. Wickham’s reputation, Mr. Wickham does the right thing by helping with the search.”

  Jane grew quiet as she fixed her hair. Elizabeth knew that as the eldest, marriage was almost always in her sister’s thoughts.

  “Did you see Mr. Bingley today as well?”

  A smile curved her lips. “I did for a few moments. He was so sad over his missing friend. I tried to find the words to console him.”

  Elizabeth clasped a necklace around Jane’s slender neck and gave her a quick hug. “I’m sure your words were like music to his soul.”

  “You are a good sister.” Jane squeezed her back. “And now, down to supper we go, where you must be a good daughter.”

  Elizabeth followed her sister down the stairs and found the remainder of her family waiting at the table ready to dine. Mr. Collins stood and held the back of the empty chair next to him. If Elizabeth shoved Jane forward it would cause more embarrassment for her father, and she held on to that thought as she sat down and allowed her cousin to push in her chair.

  After all, supper was only a few courses and she could fake interest in his conversation and call off at the end of the evening claiming a headache.

  Her mother began passing around the first course of lamb stew. From across the table Lydia sipped her water and her gaze bounced between Elizabeth and Mr. Collins in such an obvious way that Elizabeth kicked her under the table.

  Lydia narrowed her eyes. “It’s a shame that Lizzy had to miss Mr. Collins’ reading to us today. Tell us again of your adventure into the woods.”

  Papa spoke up from the end of the table. “What’s this about going into the woods?”

  Elizabeth preferred to offer the truth, but Mama quickly interrupted with a change of subject. “Mr. Collins, do tell us again about the size of your congregation.”

  Mr. Collins cleared his throat. “Thanks to the attendance of her ladyship, the congregation fills the seats and some must stand in the back to hear my sermons.”

  Lydia tried again. “Were the sermons as interesting as the book you read from today? I must say, Lizzy, you really should have been here.”

  Mr. Collins passed the bowl of stew to Elizabeth, but didn’t immediately let go. His expression was stern and judgmental. “If your sister believes you would benefit from the teachings of Fordyce’s Sermons, then perhaps I shall read them again after our supper.”

  Elizabeth bit her lip to stall for time. Her plan to escape the house in the morning would be hindered if she couldn’t get both Mr. Collins and Mama to stop finding reasons to watch her movements. Giving in a little would throw them back on their heels. She smiled across the table at her youngest of sisters, always quick to stir up trouble. “I think that is a grand idea, Mr. Collins. I would love to hear you read to us and perhaps my youngest of siblings can stay up past their bedtime to join us.”

  Mama sighed with delight. “Wonderful idea indeed, my dear. All of you girls shall stay up and listen to Mr. Collins read. Jane will chaperone, of course, while Mr. Bennet and I retire early for the evening.”

  Lydia and Kitty glared at her but their disdain would be a small price to pay when everyone rested longer the next morning so that she could sneak out. She’d prove all her sensibilities were still intact and disprove the existence of the talking frog.

  §

  A bird swooped down from its perch and Darcy ducked beneath a fallen log. The sun set in the distance and the crickets began their evening songs. Common song birds weren’t the stealthiest of hunters, but that didn’t mean a more experienced predator didn’t linger nearby. After the threat passed, he crawled back to the edge of the ravine, his entourage of ladies never too far behind. They croaked happily while he gauged the distance to the pocket watch.

  Because he couldn’t control when the words would come out as actual words, he’d had to promise something to ensure Elizabeth’s cooperation. He couldn’t blame
her for not understanding the urgency of his rescue. At least he could count on her return. If he’d learned one thing about Elizabeth Bennet it was that she would be true to her word.

  “Now my ladies,” he addressed his frog followers with words. “How are we going to get that watch back up here?”

  The lady frogs peered over the edge. Each one backed up and hopped their way to the fallen log.

  “I guess that means I’m on my own.” The task would have been dangerous for any human, let alone a tiny animal with webbed back feet and no neck. The ravine was the depth of at least three men in height and the bottom had a layer of rocks with sharp, jagged edges.

  There were a few tree roots tangled together near the ledge. If he could land on those and creep to the edge, he just might be able to hook the top of the watch with one of his frog legs and use the rest to get him back to safety. The plan wasn’t ideal by any means, but Darcy didn’t see any other way.

  He crept down the slope of the very edge, the loose dirt causing him to slip and lose his footing. With all the power of his back legs, he leapt toward the roots and prayed he wouldn’t miss.

  His stomach flipped with delight as he landed with his two front feet clinging onto the root and his back feet dangling off the edge. The feeling of victory was short-lived when his instincts told him to pull up and fast. The flapping of wings and a swoosh of air passed him just as he pulled them up and scurried to the underside of the root.

  Another miss by a bird of prey. An owl this time. His heart raced and his body rocked with labored breaths. Undeterred by the miss, the owl settled on a low branch close enough to make a second attempt. Darcy pressed his body against the rough bark of the root and waited. The owl hooted and preened his wings, and didn’t appear in a hurry to look elsewhere for a meal.

  Darcy closed his eyes. He’d rest, and when his unwanted visitor flew away, he’d get the watch for Elizabeth.

  Chapter Five

  Always an early riser, it wasn’t a hardship for Elizabeth to wake to the sounds of their maid feeding the chickens in the garden. She yawned into her hand and rolled to the side of the bed she shared with Jane. Mr. Collins had kept them for several hours the evening before and focused on sermons that dictated how a woman should obey her husband. Subtlety was not one of his virtues. Why couldn’t he focus his attention on someone like Mary, who would appreciate a parson for a husband?

  She stared at her toes and wiggled them. What would Mr. Wickham think of her adventure in the woods the day before? Certainly, he wouldn’t admonish her behavior like Mr. Collins had. And what about the pompous Mr. Darcy? Would he be the sort of husband who forbade her from helping a poor old woman? Elizabeth shook her head. How terrible of her to call Mr. Darcy names even in her head. She said a quick prayer for his safe return.

  She slid to the floor and quickly dressed in an old dress that didn’t need anyone to assist with the buttons. The talking frog sat heavy on her mind as she slipped into her soft shoes. Was he real or part of her imagination? What kind of favor would a frog ask of a person? Hopefully, something she could grant. Papa would be quite sore with her if she couldn’t return the watch to his drawer.

  She left her hair free around her shoulders, not wanting to take the time to pin it into a neat bun. Chances were good it wouldn’t stay up for long after she climbed through the bushes. Once she got to the kitchen, she’d borrow the maid’s bonnet and apron again.

  “Where are you going?” Jane asked, sleep heavy in her voice.

  “There is something that requires my attention,” Elizabeth answered.

  Jane sat up, her blonde hair covering half her face. “Please do not disobey Mama again.”

  “I will be back before anyone notices my absence.”

  Jane scoffed. “I’m sure that is what you thought yesterday.”

  Elizabeth hesitated by the door. “Will you cover for me? Make it look as if I’m still in the bed, ill but not too ill as to cause concern?”

  “Lizzy!”

  Elizabeth pressed a finger to her lips. “Please, Jane. This is very important.”

  Jane flopped back onto the bed and buried her face in her pillow. “I expect a full accounting on your newest adventure when you return.”

  Elizabeth rushed to the bed and tousled her messy hair. “Promise.”

  The only sounds in the house came from the kitchen. Cook pretended not to notice Elizabeth as she donned a white apron and pulled the maid’s bonnet tight on her head. She tied the ribbons beneath her chin and once finished, stole another sweet roll from the counter.

  The chickens clucked and the pigs snorted when she passed them. Curious if her animal-talking ailment extended to farm animals, she stopped at the edge of the garden. “Anyone have anything to say to me this morning?”

  A pig turned its head in her direction and her breath quickened, but it only returned its snout to the morning slop. The chickens pecked the ground and the rooster crowed a good morning to the sun.

  “Animals do not speak,” she said to no one animal in particular. She quieted any remaining doubts. Convinced the episode with the frog was merely a fabrication of her imagination, she headed down the path with only one mission on her mind—retrieve Papa’s favorite pocket watch.

  Taking the same route as the day before, it wasn’t long before she pushed her way through overgrown shrubbery and bushes. Wildflowers of different shades of purples, blues, and pinks filled the stretches of meadows between the trees.

  The ravine stretched for only a short section of the woods and she followed it closely, keeping her eye out for the glittering gold of the watch. How she’d get it once she found it again she wasn’t sure, but if there was a way she’d find it.

  “Hello there!”

  The man’s voice startled her and she hid behind a nearby tree. The little frog? The voice sounded different but familiar.

  “Miss Elizabeth? Is that you?” the man’s voice called out again.

  Elizabeth leaned around the edge of the tree and saw Mr. Wickham waving to her. She placed a hand against her chest to still her racing heart. How silly to think the frog was real. She smiled and returned his wave. “Oh, Mr. Wickham, you startled me.”

  He glanced around and finally focused his gaze on her. “Are you in the woods alone?”

  His tone was missing his usual happy nature and left her a little more on edge than any of their previous encounters. “I am. Are you searching for Mr. Darcy again? Is there any news?”

  “He’s yet to be found.” His eyebrows creased. “Why are you so far from home unaccompanied?”

  She laughed in an attempt to ease the tension around them. Telling him about her frog experience might return him to happy spirits if she phrased it as a joke. “I visited Mrs. Hucklebee yesterday and dropped Papa’s watch in the ravine. Then I saw this frog and thought that he spoke to me, I’m embarrassed to admit.”

  Mr. Wickham snaked out his arm and grabbed her by the wrist. “What frog?”

  Elizabeth attempted to pull away, but he tightened his grip. “Mr. Wickham, unhand me. It was just a common frog, and I was attempting to make light of my silliness.”

  His eyes darkened and he pulled her close to his chest. “Tell me where you saw this frog.”

  Fear gripped Elizabeth’s insides and she twisted her arm to pull out of his grasp. “You’re hurting me.”

  A man’s shout in the distance caught their attention. Riders were nearby. She backed away and rubbed her wrist. “Leave now or I will call out to them.”

  His sneer crushed her heart. “Who do you think will suffer more from being caught in the woods without a chaperone?”

  Elizabeth took a deep breath and cupped her hands around her mouth. Wickham backed away, realizing she had no intentions of backing down to his bullying. He turned and trotted into the woods. She didn’t lower her hands until she could no longer see the back of his head. Afraid he would hide until the riders were past their section of the woods and return, she set to work on find
ing the pocket watch.

  Her hands trembled and she gathered her skirts to get closer to the ledge of the ravine. What had she said that had turned Mr. Wickham into an angry scoundrel? Why would he care about her frog delusions?

  A glint caught her eye. The watch! Finally! It still sat on a bit of dirt jutting out near a tree’s roots. If she held on to the tree and stretched, she might be able to reach it. Time was not on her side and the impromptu plan had to work. She scooted close to the edge and grabbed one of the roots.

  “I told you I’d get the watch for you,” a voice from below called out.

  She sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t move. This was not her imagination. The little frog sitting on the root next to her hand had spoken. “I thought I’d dreamed you.”

  “I assure you I am very real,” he said.

  Her heart pounded but she forced it calm by taking several deep breaths. As someone who prided herself on realism, she would simply adjust her mindset on talking frogs. This one did, therefore she now believed in talking frogs.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you with croak.” He twisted his head back and forth, as if surprised the last word had come out wrong. “With croak.”

  Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder. “Do you mean that man?”

  “Yes, that man,” he repeated.

  “I thought him a friend, but now I’m afraid he’s spoiled our friendship. And for what reason, I’ll never understand.” How could she have been so wrong about Mr. Wickham? She glanced at the little frog. Had he meant to defend her if he could? A very noble trait. “What do I call you?”

  “Croak,” he answered.

  She sat back and spread her skirts around her feet. Although time ticked away, she had so many questions for the odd little being.

  “Let’s try something else. How are you able to speak? Were you born a frog?”

  “Croak,” he said again. He rubbed his webbed hand over his face. “Croak.”

  A few answering croaks followed his last attempt to answer her question. The leaves rustled and a few smaller frogs came forward. The frogs were brown and green striped like her little frog. They seemed to respond to him.