Chapter Three #2
She clapped her hands over her pockets—presumably protecting her pets—and jumped up and down, crying, “That is a positively brilliant notion! I cannot wait to suggest it to Cook!” Miss Elizabeth pulled the guinea pig out of her pocket, held him up to her nose, and asked, “Did you hear that, Jeffry? Is not Mr. Darcy an amazingly intelligent gentleman?”
Of course I heard him. It was my idea, Jeffry thought, laughing to himself. She did not hear him, though, since Aunty would not approve of him revealing his magical secrets to Lizzy. He chutted instead, settling into a nap position.
“What an interesting array of noises guinea pigs make,” Lizzy remarked, tucking him away in her pocket once more.
She gave two sharp whistles between her thumb and forefinger.
Harry barked twice. “The dogs will come now, Mr. Darcy. I must return to the house right away to tell Cook about your idea so she might take her time thinking over the idea.”
“May I accompany you?” he asked, his eyebrows high.
“It is polite of you to ask, but there is no need,” she assured him, taking both bottom corners of her apron up in her hands as she did so.
She folded them over and over, laterally, and then tucked the ends through her waistband.
Mr. Darcy appeared puzzled by her actions.
She picked up the sack of debris and explained.
“I mean to run, you see. I love running.”
“You do not think I am capable of running alongside you?”
Lizzy thought he sounded miffed, but that made no sense to her. “I am certain you can, since you are healthy and appear to be sound in limb. But why should you? I am perfectly safe. Goodbye, sir,” she said, curtsying. “Hold on, little ones.”
Lizzy turned, then, and broke into a slow jog, then a speedier jog, and then she stretched her stride into a loping run that covered ground with significant speed.
Harry soon joined her. Connie did not. Since Lizzy did not hear Mr. Darcy following, she supposed he agreed that she was perfectly safe on their own land.
He likely thinks I am a mad woman. Lizzy did not know if she should chuckle at the idea or groan at it. She hoped he would not tell her mother about how she had harried away as if she were a fox with hounds nipping at her heels.
Darcy watched Miss Elizabeth hie off toward her home. He glanced down and met Conny’s soulful gaze.
“I do not know what just happened, either,” he said, turning himself in the direction from which he had arrived in the home wood. “One moment we have companions, and the next we do not. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is an unusual woman, make no mistake. I wonder what she is like in a more formal setting?”
Darcy wondered if he could convince Miss Bingley to have an afternoon visiting party and to send the Bennets an invitation.
I will suggest it to Bingley. He will be eager to have guests so he can get to know his neighbors better.
I cannot imagine Miss Elizabeth bringing any of her creatures with her—certainly not her mouse.
Darcy chuckled, imagining the look on Miss Bingley’s face if she saw a mouse in her drawing room.
I must invite my cousin to drop in for a visit if he is able.
Since Georgie is in London at the moment visiting Aunt Orillia, Douglas could easily escort Georgie—if he can get leave.
Darcy’s half-grin evaporated. His sister’s spirits had been low for some time now.
He knew she keenly felt her betrayal of his trust. She could not seem to recover her equilibrium, no matter how often he assured her he did not blame her for Wickham’s cursed behavior.
Meeting Miss Elizabeth and her menagerie might be just the medicine Georgie needed.
*
Jeffry woke from a tiny little nap. What is happening!
He spread his legs and held on to the sides of Lizzy’s apron pocket as though his sanity depended on it.
The jostling he endured went far beyond anything that occurred while Lizzy walked.
She is running! What the devil? Why is she running?
Are we being chased? Using his magic, Jeffry thought back to the part of the conversation he had missed.
What sense is there in running to tell Cook about my idea for the tin cup?
Walking would have worked perfectly well.
Humph, this Lizzy is the oddest of all the Lizzy’s so far.
Running! Madness. Jeffry blinked out of the pocket, landed back in his enclosure, and scooted into his delightful tunnel, dragging some straw bedding with him as he went.
“Heh, look, Jeffry’s back!” Frank called out.
“Tell us what happened on Lizzy’s walk, Jeffry!” one of the squirrels cried out in a demanding voice.
“Yes, tell us!” the birds chorused.
“Be quiet!” Jeffry shouted. “Go to sleep!”
Jill yawned. “But I’m not tir…”
Jeffry shuddered when the power of his authority asserted its sway over them and the animal raucous in the orangery stopped.
“I bet Auntie doesn’t have to deal with this bedlam,” he muttered, nestling down.
*
Basile padded along the wide corridor of the Netherfield first floor corridor in search of his human.
Light shone in the tall windows that lined one wall, illuminating the bedchamber doors in the opposite wall.
He had woken from his nap to discover his Caroline had left him.
This was an unacceptable condition. If I am not with ‘er, who will protect ‘er?
Who will ‘elp ‘er overcome ‘er mélancolie when zat Darcy fellow—'e is not worthy of my Caroline—avoids ‘er?
Basile checked every chamber with an open door as he passed it. He could not find her, and he began to pant in his distress. He reached the top of the stairs without finding his Caroline. Delicious scents rose from below.
Mon dieu! Le déjeuner! She is eatin’ without me!
After racing down the long stairs, Basile leapt from the fifth step, launching himself onto the marble ground floor. He slid a little on the slippery surface, bumping into the side of a footman’s shoe.
“Le meow,” Basile complained, taking a proper moment to swipe at the offender’s ankles.
The footman leapt out of the way. “Oh, no, you don’t, you little scoundrel. Shoo! Get on w’ you.”
“Basile? Is that you, kitty?” his human called. “I have a bit of smoked haddock in here if you want it.”
Smoked ‘addock, Basile breathed to himself. All is forgiven!
He scampered along to where the double doors leading into the dining room stood open. “Le meow.”
“I hear you, dear,” his human said. He spied her at the table, her head turned toward the door, a broad grin on her adored face. As he scurried toward her, she set a saucer on the carpeted floor. “Fear not. I found all the bones.”
He positioned himself in a relaxed crouch, addressing the fish. Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, Basile thought to himself as he daintily consumed the flakes of smoked haddock.
“I swear that cat meows in French.”
“He is French, after all, Charles,” his Caroline replied. “I wonder where Mr. Darcy is this morning?”
Basile’s ears twitched.
“Brewster said Darcy took the gig out not long after dawn.”
Basile liked their butler. He could depend on Brewster for favorite treats. Basile liked Chef too, and Chef liked him because Basile kept the mice and rats away from the kitchen. When my Caroline marries zat Darcy fellow, I will need to train a whole new staff to cater to my every need.
“Where might he have gone at that hour?” his Caroline asked. Her hand touched Basile’s head, and she stroked him just the way he liked it.
“I have been for a walk in the Longbourn home wood,” that Darcy fellow said as he entered the room. “I am famished.”
Basile curled his lip, pausing in his eating until that man chose his food and sat at the table. Then, Basile addressed the delectable haddock once more.
“A sweet dog followed me into the wood, as it happened.”
Basile stopped eating. Dog!
“We walked for a time, and then we came upon Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who had her dog, Harry, out with her. She said my companion’s name was Conny.”
Basile sniffed. Zat short and fat idiot.
“I thought I would invite Georgiana for a visit, if you have no objection?” Darcy asked. “My cousin could escort her.”
“Of course you must invite them,” the Bingley brother said with marked enthusiasm.
“Dear Colonel Fitzwilliam!” his Caroline cried. “And darling Georgiana. Yes, do invite them. Would you like me to write her an invitation to include in your letter?”
“That is kind of you, Miss Bingley. I am certain she would like to have an invitation directly from you,” that Darcy fellow said, the sound of praise in his voice.
My mistress wants zis man, and I wish ‘er to be ‘appy. ‘ow can I help ‘er catch ‘im? I can’t chase ‘im like a mouse. Mon Dieu, I suppose I must be nice to ‘im. Basile sneezed. Zee idea makes me want to vomit…but this ‘addock is so…nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.
“When do you plan to start entertaining, Charles?” that Darcy fellow asked.
“We have had morning visitors,” the Bingley brother said.
“Half the county has been around,” his Caroline remarked.
“Now that you mention it, Darcy, I suppose it is time to have some sort of jollification,” the Bingley brother mused. “What do you suggest?”
Slowly, that Darcy fellow said, “Oh…perhaps an afternoon visiting party would be the thing? Perhaps some tea? Twinings has a lovely congou tea that Georgiana and I enjoy in the afternoons.”
“Caroline, do we have any congou tea?”
His human sighed. “We do. We received our delivery of teas from Twinings on Saturday. Tea in the afternoon? How original.”
“Today is Tuesday,” the Bingley brother pointed out. “We could send out invitations later today for this Thursday.”
“Charles!”
“What is it, Caroline?” her brother asked, sounding surprised. “I thought you loved to have parties.”
“I do, I do,” she snapped. “But two days is little time to prepare, indeed.”
“You are brilliantly able, my dear,” the Bingley brother swore. “I warrant our gathering will be the talk of the district.”