The end. #2
Elizabeth ran down the drive. Darcy wondered from where she got her energy after a fortnight and a half of travel, advancing a little closer to Pemberley each day.
The wagon carrying her other animal friends had arrived a week since.
One of his grooms had ridden to find them on the road with the bull to give them the news.
Georgiana had agreed to look after them in the transformed orangery until Elizabeth arrived.
Harry chuffed beside him. Darcy had discovered that the big dog did not much like Clover.
Even though he was of a herding breed, he gave the white and reddish-brown shorthorn bull a wide berth.
The middle-aged drover had shaken his head more than once over the recalcitrant Clover, claiming never to have known an animal as stubborn.
He had also marveled over how Elizabeth could wrap the bull around her little finger.
At the moment, the drover stood off to one side, his arms folded, and his own herding dog lying at his feet.
Lizzy slowed her head-long rush to approach her friend. He turned his horned head ponderously, watching her. She saw the fatigue in his deep-brown eyes and compassion welled up inside her.
“We have finally arrived, Clover, dear,” Lizzy said softly. She stroked his shoulder and leaned against his side. “There is only a little way to go before you will be in your own paddock once more. There’s also stone shelter there for you to use when you wish to get out of the weather.”
Clover snorted.
“And,” she said in a wheedling voice, “there is a stream in your paddock, too. Fitz-darling chose an excellent home for you. I promise.”
Clover stomped once. Lizzy looked around and spied two farm laborers carrying a tub of water between them.
“Put it down there,” she said, nodding at their feet. “That is close enough.”
The laborers obeyed her order. They found a level spot nearby, placed the water on the ground, and backed away.
“Look how kind everyone is being, Clover, my big beautiful boy,” Lizzy said. “Can you smell the water?”
The bull took several lumbering steps, paused, and then kept walking until he reached the water. Lizzy, keeping pace beside him, patted his shoulder.
“Drink slowly, now,” she told him.
“Flora!” cried Georgiana.
Oh, no!
Lizzy stared toward the magnificent house, looking for Georgiana’s Sussex spaniel. She spied her barreling down the drive toward the bull, barking furiously.
Clover lifted his head and snorted. Then, he stomped the ground.
“Harry!” Lizzy called, keeping her tone controlled, even though she raised her voice. “Play with Flora.”
When Flora reached Harry, he nudged her with his shoulder so she rolled away on the grass.
She leapt to her feet, looked around to see her attacker, realized it was Harry, whom she knew very well, and began to play fight with him, forgetting about Clover.
Lizzy’s husband waded in and plucked Flora from the ground.
He held her tightly in his arms until Georgiana arrived, her lead in hand.
Lizzy tugged on one of Clover’s horns—he had put his head down to drink more water. “That is enough, now. You may have some later from the stream. Though, you must not drink too much today.” Clover snuffled and obediently lifted his head. “Come with me.”
A large, tall older man approached and matched his step with hers. Gradually, he moved closer and closer until they walked side-by-side.
“Are you Mr. Saunders?” Lizzy asked, keeping one hand on Clover’s shoulder. “Mr. Darcy’s cattleman?”
“That I am, ma’am,” he said, touching his cap. “This one’s a right one, isn’t he?”
“He is. Clover, this is Mr. Saunders. I want you to be nice to him,” Lizzy admonished. “He is to look after you so I want no mischief from you.”
Clover swung his head to the side so he could look at the cattleman.
“There’s a fine fellah,” Mr. Saunders said in a quiet, caressing tone.
“I like the sound of your voice, Mr. Saunders,” Lizzy said. “Clover, to the right a little, if you please.”
Clover obediently changed his direction slightly to the right.
“I heard ye had a way with animals, ma’am, and I ken see that ye does.”
“You trade with me, and we will see how he is with you,” Lizzy said, falling back. Mr. Saunders took her place, putting his hand on Clover’s shoulder. The bull snorted but did not complain.
“There’s the gate, ma’am,” Mr. Saunders said, nodding at the strong gate set in the stone wall of the paddock. “Ye go ahead and open it, see, so he knows where t’go.”
Lizzy calmly hurried ahead, faster than Clover could walk at the moment, and opened the gate, swinging it wide. She waited beside it. “This is your new home, Clover. Forever and ever. No more walking, no more drover, I promise you.”
Clover huffed a few times and passed her, entering the paddock without any more trouble. Lizzy began closing the gate with herself on the inside.
“I’ll do that, ma’am,” Mr. Saunders said. “It’s best he gets used t’me.”
Lizzy hesitated, but then nodded. “Do not wave your cap at him. He does not like to be startled. Do not turn your back on him, either.”
“Good advice, that is, ma’am,” the cattleman said, touching his cap to her.
“I will be back later to check on him,” Lizzy told him. “If there is any trouble, come up to the house and ask for me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Lizzy watched him from the outside of the gate as Mr. Saunders encouraged Clover toward the stone structure where fresh bedding had been laid down. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at her husband.
“We did it, Fitz-darling,” she said, smiling as broadly as she could. “There were a few days there that I was not sure.”
“I had no doubt that you would get Clover here, my love,” Darcy said. “No animal can resist your charms. It is impossible for me to do so.” He turned her around so she could look at Pemberley. “Welcome to your new home.”
“I love it,” Lizzy said with a sigh of appreciation. She patted his hand. “Just as I love you, Fitz-darling.”
“As I love you. But, are you going to call me that forever?” he asked, chuckling.
“Forever and ever,” she promised.
Her husband pressed his lips to hers in a swift kiss. “Come, wife-darling, let me introduce you to my staff so that we may go upstairs and refresh ourselves before you check on your other animals.”
“Oh yes, please. And I am hungry.”
“Chef received his copy of Cook’s cookbook and has baked you some of your rambling bars. Georgiana told me just now that he is anxious for you to try them.”
“That should hold me over until dinner.” Lizzy heaved a sigh. “Fitz-darling. I am ever so happy.”
“Good. So am I.”
*
“There ye have it, boyo,” Aunty said to Jeffry, setting him on the footstool before she sat in her favorite chair in front of a gently burning fire. A pile of handkerchiefs sat at her elbow. “Another successful pairin’.”
Jeffry wheeked.
“Aye, more than one,” Aunty acknowledged. “Ye did yer part well.”
Jeffry wheeked again, turning around and around on the footstool where he liked to nap.
“No, no, ye did jist enough,” she said, folding her arms over her ample stomach. Staring into the fire, she let her gift wander. “That Basile behaved himself, too.”
Jeffry shook his head and twitched his whiskers. Choosing to speak aloud, he said, “He has attitude, that one.”
“He’s a most superior cat.” Aunty snorted. “Or thinks he is.”
“Lizzy looks after her animals very well,” Jeffry praised. “Is Darcy prepared? I wonder.”
“Darcy will manage. He always does.”
They sat in silence together, watching the flames. Finally, Jeffry stirred.
“And the next Mr. Darcy?” he asked.
“It isn’t a new Mr. Darcy this next time. It’s one we’ve seen before. A new nightmare is comin’, and Mr. Darcy’s witch will have t’help him with this one or…”
“Or?” Jeffry asked, staring up at Aunty. Out of nowhere, he began to shiver, making his hair sway as though he stood in a breeze.
She breathed deeply and let the air out slowly. “It isn’t clear yet.”
The end.