Mrs Darcy vs The Aliens

Elizabeth was just about to ascend the stairs to her room when she noticed Mrs Garson coming towards her carrying a tray.

“Morning, ma’am,” said old Mrs Garson. “I was just taking a little breakfast up to our other – er – guest.”

“Ah, the mysterious Mr Byron – ” said Elizabeth.

“Lord Byron, I’ll have you know,” said Mrs Garson, raising her eyebrows. She sounded as though she could scarcely believe it.

“Really?” said Elizabeth. “I wasn’t aware that he was a member of the nobility.” She looked at the contents of Lord Byron’s breakfast tray, some of the details of which seemed unusual. “I wonder – could you tell me what that is around the edge of the teacup there?”

“Ah, that is sugar, ma’am. His lordship says that a gentleman needs a good hard rim in the morning to wake him up.”

“Good Lord,” said Elizabeth. “I have never heard of that before. I must try it myself some day.” She paused. “Tell me, Mrs Garson,” she said. “Do you know how Mrs Collins became acquainted with Lord Byron?”

“Ah, that’s an easy one. They both happened to be looking for some works of art in an auction not far from here, and his lordship offered to put Mrs Collins in touch with his dealer. Although – ” and here her voice dropped to a whisper “ – I don’t think he’s on very good terms with this dealer any more, because I overheard him saying that the reason he’s staying here right now is to avoid the man. Some dispute over a wicked skunk or some such.”

“Well, there’s a thing!” said Elizabeth. “So he trades in exotic animals as well?”

“Apparently so. But you know, ma’am, I’m a simple soul and I know little of the world beyond the garden gate. It all seems mighty queer to me, and the least said about it the better. All I know is he’s not good for my mistress. And I worry about what he’s doing to the carpet up in his room, too.”
“I beg your pardon?” said Elizabeth at this apparent non-sequitur.

“He’s refusing to let the parlour maid in to clean,” said Mrs Garson, in an aggrieved tone. “Says it’s a bit of a mess ’cos of him dropping some bad acid last week. Well I ask you!”

“So he is a man of science as well as a musician, then?”

“He writes poems, too. Filthy they are, some of them. I found one or two lying around last time I went in there. There’s this one about a ship called Venus – ”

“The God of love? But surely that is a delightful idea?”

“Ha! You might think that, but I can assure you that you wouldn’t want to know what he says happened on that there ship. If that’s what goes on in the English Navy, well, I’ll tell you this for free: old Boney’s won the war already.” She frowned and shook her head. “But I will say this. Lord Byron can be a generous man. Only the other day he invited a couple of the young lads from the village in for a pork sandwich. He must have thought they were starving, poor mites.”

“So thoughtful!”

Mrs Garson’s face brightened. “And you know what? Only the other day he offered to give me a pearl necklace! At my age!”

“Great heavens! Is there no end to the man’s generosity?”

“’Course I couldn’t take it,” said Mrs Garson. “Wouldn’t have been right.” She sighed. “Anyways, I must be getting along, otherwise his lordship’s tea’s going to get cold. And Mrs Collins will be – er – needing her morning tonic.”

There was something a little over-familiar about the way Mrs Garson tapped the side of her nose, Elizabeth thought.