Page 12 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“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.