Chapter Two #2
What a harridan. She only acted conciliatory after she remembered Bingley is stepping out with her oldest daughter.
Darcy glanced sideways at Miss Elizabeth and caught her cooing over the guinea pig, ignoring her mother.
I suppose she is used to her own mother’s behavior.
Even so, it cannot be easy to have a parent who cares nothing for your chief interest. She met his gaze, then, and he caught the twinkle in their dark depths.
“Is this a test?” he whispered for her ears only.
Miss Elizabeth chuckled.
“Lizzy?” her mother called, her voice sharp and accusing. “What are you laughing at?”
“Mama,” she said so sweetly that Darcy’s back teeth hurt, “Jeffry’s whiskers tickled my nose.” She held up the guinea pig. “See? Is he not adorable?”
Mrs. Bennet visibly shuddered. “Keep it away from me. I suppose it is another rodent?”
“He is,” Miss Elizabeth confirmed.
“Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, I warrant we are the only house in the neighborhood who welcomes rodents into their homes,” Mrs. Bennet said in an attempt at drollery that did not quite work. “See, there? My daughter also has a mouse on her shoulder.”
“What is your field-mouse’s name, Miss Bennet?” Darcy asked.
“Squeaky,” she replied. “It is not a particularly imaginative name.”
“Perhaps you might call your next mouse pet, Sir Isaac,” Darcy suggested.
“Do not encourage her, sir,” Mrs. Bennet said, rolling her eyes. “Though, the Lord knows Lizzy needs none.”
In a whisper, Miss Elizabeth admonished him, saying, “It is not polite to mention next pets when the last one is still alive.”
“Darcy, how could you?” Bingley asked, grinning at him.
“I beg your pardon,” Darcy said with appropriate gravity.
Harry chuffed. Darcy realized the dog was staring at the mouse and the guinea pig. Miss Elizabeth, to his surprise, crouched so Harry could examine Jeffry.
“He is doing very well, thank you,” she said to the dog. Harry’s tongue shot out and bathed her cheek with a dog-kiss. “You are a sweety.”
“Elizabeth Bennet!”
“Yes, Mama?” she asked, rising and putting the guinea pig back in her capacious pocket. Miss Elizabeth folded her hands in front of her and waited, the picture of innocent patience.
Mrs. Bennet stared at her, saying nothing. Bingley’s dogcart came around from the stables, drawing everyone’s attention. Darcy and Bingley bowed to their hostess and to Miss Elizabeth, who curtsied back.
“Have a pleasant day, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Elizabeth said graciously. “Mr. Bingley, I will keep you informed of your lamb’s recovery.”
“See you soon,” Mrs. Bennet cried, waving her handkerchief at them from the porch.
Miss Elizabeth waited for them to climb into the dogcart before she turned and strolled back toward the side of the house, presumably meaning to return to her menagerie. Darcy watched her progress until she was lost to view.
As soon as the dogcart made it through the gates, he pithily said, “I pity any man who will have that woman as his mother-in-law.”
“Do you?” Bingley asked in a neutral voice. He shrugged. “She is a lively woman, no doubt, but she means well.”
“Hmm,” Darcy hummed darkly, his brow furrowed.
“It is anxiety for her daughters’ fate that makes her behave the way she does.
” Bingley nodded at a farmer who touched his brow to them as they passed him on the lane.
“The estate is entailed, you see, to a distant cousin whom they have never met. Upon their marriage, or their father’s death, Mrs. Bennet and her daughters will receive only a pittance. ”
“Unfortunate,” Darcy replied, his frown altering from a glower to one of interest. “With so many men off at war, their prospects might be considered bleak.”
“As you say.”
“You are a boon to the neighborhood, then,” Darcy pointed out. “All the single ladies of decent breeding will be setting their caps at you.”
“Caroline has already told me.”
“You do not agree?” Darcy asked.
“There is an assembly soon,” Bingley mentioned. “Next Thursday, as it happens. You will still be here, and then we shall see. I love to dance.”
“You will be spoiled for choice in regard to partners, I imagine.”
“As will you,” Bingley pointed out, grinning.
Darcy rolled his eyes. “Oh, Lord.”
*
Lizzy put Jeffry back in his enclosure, petted him a few times, and said, “Stay put. Thank you.”
She said goodbye to the other animals by name as she left the orangery. As soon as the door shut, the rabbit buck spoke up. His name was Jack. The doe rabbit’s name was Jill. Jeffry giggled over their name choices.
“How did you get out before?” Jack asked.
“Sorry, that is my secret,” Jeffry replied.
“Humph. Tell us, then, was that the man you told us about?” Jack asked next.
“You said his name was Darcy,” Jill reminded him.
“I remember,” Jeffry said, sniffing amongst the remaining food in his dish.
“Well, was he?” Clive, the fox demanded.
Jeffry lifted his nose and sniffed the air, saying, “Sí.”
“See? What am I supposed to be looking at?” a mole asked from within a tunnel of hardened clay. “I can’t see very well, you know.”
“I beg your pardon, but who are you?” Jeffry asked politely.
“Digger’s me name,” the mole said. “Well? What am I supposed to see?”
“Oh, dear, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jeffry confessed, confused.
“You said ‘see’. See what?” Clive asked, sounding exasperated as he paced inside his cage. “Are you slow, or what?”
“Slow?” Jeffry repeated, frowning.
“What is your problem?” Jack asked. “You clearly said ‘see’. We all heard you.”
Jeffry wished he could bury himself under a pile of forest litter, but he had none in his enclosure. I’ll have to impress upon Lizzy my need for a pile of leaves. He ran his conversation over in his head, searching for the word the others accused him of saying. Oh, right. I get it.
“You have misunderstood me,” Jeffry explained. “Sí means ‘yes’ in Spanish.”
“Why didn’t you just say ‘yes’, then?” The water vole asked. “We’re English, not Spanish.”
Give me strength.
“Your name is Pickle, correct? It’s one word in Spanish. Could you not learn it?” Jeffry asked, chattering his teeth afterwards in an attempt to calm his fraying nerves.
“It’s a confusing word,” the turtle said to the water vole.
That is Bruce…I think, Jeffry reminded himself.
“I agree,” Pickle said.
Jeffry decided he should just answer the initial question. Perhaps that would take their minds off of his use of a Spanish word. “That was Mr. Darcy, sí.”
“There he goes again. He’s irritating me.” Jack turned around so his rear was facing the guinea pig enclosure.
I am irritating him?
“I beg your pardon, that just slipped out. It’s a habit that I’ll attempt to quash.”
“Harry likes the Darcy man,” the fawn said from where he stood next to the rabbit hutch, seemingly ignoring the discussion about how to say “yes”. “My name is Carl, and I can tell that Harry likes him.”
Jeffry snatched up a plump raisin and began nibbling as if he would go mad at that exact moment if he could not distract himself with food.
“Harry is a good judge of character,” Clive noted. “For a dog.”
“I like Mr. Darcy for Lizzy,” one of the nameless birds chirped.
“For Lizzy!”
“For Lizzy!”
“For Lizzy!”
Jeffry waited for the silly birds to calm down before explaining. “The challenge is that Mr. Bingley’s sister wants Mr. Darcy for herself.”
“The cat’s pet human?” Bruce the turtle asked.
“Yes,” Jeffry said in a deliberate way to show he could say it in English. No one seemed to notice his effort, though. Sigh. “But Caroline is not a good choice for Mr. Darcy. He would not be happy with her. And, Lizzy will marry no one if she does not marry Mr. Darcy.”
“That’s not good,” Jack said, turning around and facing forward once more.
“That is an understatement,” Jeffry said in a musing sort of way. “We have to give Lizzy time with Mr. Darcy.”
The menagerie fell silent. Finally, the turtle asked, “How? I am stuck in this pond.”
“That is unfortunate,” Jeffry said kindly. “I feel for you. Hmm, I think the best thing is for me to make certain I go with Lizzy everywhere she goes.”
“How?” the fawn asked.
“Fear not, I am able. Now, she is going nowhere at the moment so I will take a nap,” Jeffry told them, turning around and around until he found as much straw as Lizzy had strewn about his enclosure. He pushed it about until he had a meagre nest and settled onto it. “Just a power nap, mind.”
“What if the Darcy man comes back?” the water vole asked.
“What is a power nap?” Jack demanded at practically the same time.
Ignoring Jack’s question, Jeffry mumbled with confidence, “He won’t be back today.”
“But what if he does?” one of the red squirrels asked. “Come back, I mean.”
Jeffry opened one eye and caught sight of her ear tufts twitching. “He won’t.”
“He might,” a different red squirrel said. The two squirrels chased themselves around the large dead tree propped up against the brick wall for their enjoyment. “He might, he might, he might.”
“By Inti’s hairy toes,” Jeffry said, closing his eyes and trembling with exhausted exasperation. “I won’t get a nap in here.” He rubbed his front paws together and disappeared.
“Where did he go?” Carl asked. “How is he getting out?”
“It must be…magic,” Pickle whispered. The idea startled him so much that he slipped off the edge of his trough pond and swam into the reeds.
“Who is Inti?” Mrs. Annie, a large and venerable hedgehog, queried. “Does anyone know?”
An “I don’t know” chorus filled the orangery.
*
Lizzy slipped into the breakfast room where they ate their early afternoon meals.
The room had been decorated with violet prints, and painted a gentle white.
The two sofas had been upholstered in a soft green.
The table at one end held enough places for ten, allowing room for a few guests if they happened to have some.
She always found the room cheery, since it faced southeast.