Chapter Twelve #2
Mrs. Godbed nodded emphatically. “I do, I do. I am pleased that they’ve no horns, too.
I like that, see, on account o’ the children.
Their safety, sir. And,” she added almost as an afterthought, “the bulls are docile and also without horns.” She jumped up and refilled their almost empty glasses. “Me husband can tell y’more, I’m sure.”
Giggling children, each carrying a squirming puppy, tramped across the farmyard.
They stopped in a line at the open side of the shed.
Their father joined them, carrying a large wooden box.
Puppy noses poked up over the sides of the box.
Their mother joined them, her nose in the air, staring at her puppies.
She looked into the shed, spied Miss Elizabeth and hastened across to the visitor, her tail wagging furiously.
“Hello, there, Mrs. Rosie,” Miss Elizabeth said, holding down her hand to be licked. “We have come to look over your pups.”
Mrs. Rosie turned around, tongue lolling, and sat next to Miss Elizabeth’s chair, leaning her weight against the chair leg, and looking across at her puppies.
“I’ll put ‘em down,” Mr. Godbed said, following through.
As soon as the box settled on the stone floor, the four puppies inside climbed out and began to sniff everything in sight.
The children put their puppies on the ground, too.
“There’s seven left, three females and four males.
” He looked apologetically at Darcy. “I’m sorry, sir, but the children have named ‘em all. Y’can change the name, out-of-course, if you choose t’have one of the little rascals. ”
Darcy nodded, busy watching the puppies’ antics. He had always been a strong believer in choosing the animal that wanted you. He saw that several puppies had more interest in the humans than in what they might discover on the shed floor.
“They look healthy,” Darcy observed.
“I will look them all over,” Miss Elizabeth said, standing now and putting on the apron she had brought. “Janice, will you be my helper today?”
“Aye.” The little girl hurried readily over. “Do y’want me to bring ‘em t’ye one at a time?”
“Yes, please,” Miss Elizabeth said. She sat on her chair once more, spreading her apron evenly across her lap.
“Here, miss,” Janice said, depositing one puppy on Miss Elizabeth’s lap.
She began to examine the dog, looking in its ears, feeling its body, pressing her ear to the animal and listening intently. After she had completed her examination, she handed the puppy back to Janice.
“Take this little girl to Mr. Darcy,” Miss Elizabeth directed, “and then bring me another one. Thank you.”
Darcy took the soft, squirming puppy in his arms. He petted her and she licked his chin. He looked into her amber eyes and knew that Georgiana would love any one of these seven puppies. She will likely want to take them all home.
“Are all these puppies for sale?” he asked his host.
“Aye,” Mr. Godbed said, nodding. “The squire’ll take any we cannot sell, ‘cause he’ll bring ‘em up t’hunt.”
“Excellent,” Darcy murmured, handing the one he held over to the farmer before he took the next one—a male. This puppy had no interest in him at all. He simply wished to be put down on the ground. “Not this one,” he said, passing him over to one of the boys. “I think he wants to be a hunting dog.”
“I agree,” Miss Elizabeth said. She addressed Mr. Godbed. “Please separate out the ones we do not wish to show Miss Georgiana. Perhaps we can put a ribbon or a string around the likely puppies?”
“Aye, we can do that,” Mr. Godbed said.
“May my sister and I visit tomorrow afternoon?” Darcy asked, accepting another puppy. This one licked him prodigiously. “I think a string for this one.”
“Tomorrow afternoon will do fine,” Mrs. Godbed said.
“You are so kind,” Darcy said.
In this manner, they eliminated all the puppies save three—two males and one female. String appeared and soon adorned the right puppies, then the children helped return them to the barn. Mrs. Rosie padded after them.
Once they drank another glass of mint tea, Darcy and Miss Elizabeth prepared to take their leave. Before his companion could don her gloves, the farmer cleared his throat.
“Miss?”
“Yes, Mr. Godbed?” Miss Elizabeth asked, her eyebrows high.
“Would ye mind very much lookin’ over me sow?” he asked.
Miss Elizabeth gazed up at Darcy. “May we spare a few minutes?”
“Certainly,” he said, and watched her traipse across the barnyard to the stye, her head cocked to one side as she listened to the farmer explain the problem.
“She’s a wonderful catch, that one is,” Mrs. Godbed told him. She passed him a damp cloth to wipe his hands. “Knows so much about animals, she does. I think it’s a God-given gift.”
“Every good gift comes from God,” Darcy said, a considering frown on his brow. “Did she tell you her dog brought a guinea pig home?”
The farmwife took back the cloth and handed him the plate of buttered loaf slices. “Nay, she did not. Where’d Harry find such a thing?”
“No one knows,” Darcy said, taking a loaf slice. “Miss Elizabeth hopes to discover his origins.”
“If anyone can, it’ll be herself,” Mrs. Godbed said. Spying her children roughhousing, she called out, “That’s enough of that, you three!”
The children fell apart, promising they meant no harm.
“More energy than sense, some days,” she observed in an aside to Darcy. Calling out once more, she said, “Iffen ye wants somethin’ t’do, take a basket t’the orchard and pick up the windfalls. Bring ‘em back here, mind. Don’t leave ‘em sittin’ under the trees. We’ll sort ‘em when yer done.”
“Yes, mum,” the children said as one. They collected a basket from another shed and headed off together.
Darcy finished his loaf slice. “I think you should enter this loaf in the next fête.”
“Thank ye, sir. I mean to,” Mrs. Godbed said, grinning.
“Ah, here comes Miss Elizabeth and your good husband.” How lovely she is. And, how well she interacts with this farming family.
“Have you eaten all that loaf, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Elizabeth asked when she entered the shed, spying him wiping his fingers on a napkin.
“Here ye are, miss,” the farmwife said, passing a clean damp cloth to her. “I don’t doubt ye’ve had yer ‘ands all over that sow.”
“I ‘ave and all,” Miss Elizabeth said, trying on their accent and wiping her dirty fingers.
Though the couple chuckled, Mrs. Godbed said, “Now, miss. It isn’t proper fer ye to talk like us. What would yer mother say, I wonder?”
Miss Elizabeth chuckled, and then grimaced. “I expect she would try to wash my mouth out with soap, and then make me stand in a corner, repeating a diction exercise, like ‘In Hackney, Haddenham, and Hampshire, how do your heavenly hollyhocks grow?’”
This brought on another bout of chuckles. Miss Elizabeth’s expression changed to one of enquiry. “Have you heard of anyone missing a guinea pig, Mrs. Godbed? Mr. Godbed?”
“No, miss. Mr. Darcy done asked me that already, he has,” Mrs. Godbed said. “But I’ll ask me friends.”
“Thank you,” Miss Elizabeth said. She looked at Darcy, removing her apron. “Are we ready to continue our drive?”
“We are,” Darcy said, nodding to their hosts. “Until tomorrow, then?”
“Aye, sir,” they both said.
“Now, where have I put my gloves?” Lizzy asked, looking about the shed.
“They are here,” Mr. Darcy said, picking them up off the chair where she had sat earlier.
“Thank you,” she said, exchanging her gloves for the apron.
He lifted an eyebrow and tucked the folded garment under his arm.
Mr. Darcy nodded to the Godbeds once more before turning away.
Lizzy beamed at them and followed him to the gig where the horse stood patiently waiting, watching the scratching chickens in the barnyard.
Mr. Darcy handed her up and soon gained the seat beside her.
He gave back her apron, which she held under her folded hands.
He released the brake and set the horse in motion, turning his carriage in the open space in front of the barnyard.
“Good bye,” Lizzy said, waving once at Mr. and Mrs. Godbed as they passed them, still standing by the shed.
When they left the farm lane and entered the lane leading back toward Longbourn Village, she grinned up at Mr. Darcy.
“What a satisfying visit. Three possible puppy matches for Georgiana is nothing to look down on.”
“Not at all,” he said. “I am pleased with them. I believe Georgiana will be exceedingly happy with whichever one she chooses.”
“I predict she will want to take away her choice immediately,” Lizzy said, chuckling.
“I will not bring a puppy into Bingley’s establishment as long as that hellion cat is in residence,” Mr. Darcy said, grimacing.
Lizzy agreed with him, saying, “His has a strong character, no doubt.”
“He tried to leap up onto my cousin, you know. Not onto his lap, mind, but while Douglas was still walking.”
“How did the colonel react?”
“He foiled Basile’s attempt neatly, by stepping to the side,” Mr. Darcy revealed, satisfaction in his voice. “Douglas has always been awake upon every suit.”
“If I may ask, what does Colonel Fitzwilliam do in the army?”
“Douglas is an assistant to Lieutenant-General Harry Calvert, who is the Adjutant-General of our forces,” Mr. Darcy explained. “He has leave for a fortnight, which is why I had planned for Georgiana to visit for only that time. I could, of course, escort her back to London myself.”
“I see,” Lizzy said, nodding slowly.
Mr. Darcy sighed. “The puppies have calmed me. I do not wish to think about him anymore today.” She watched him force a smile on his lips before he spoke again in a hearty tone. “Tell me, if you please, how Jeffry manages to be everywhere?”
Lizzy chuckled. “I think it must be magic. I assure you, I did not bring him to Miss Bingley’s afternoon tea party.”
“I imagine your mother would have had something to say about it if she had known.”