Page 3 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“I think they eat like rabbits,” Lizzy suggested, setting him down in the straw-strewn enclosure. Jane picked up the tray and handed it to her. “There is still a variety of choices here,” she said, reaching for a spare, clean metal bowl from off the shelf over her desk. She filled it and put the bowl in with the guinea pig.

“Some straw?” Jane asked.

“I think so.”

“I will get some,” her sister told her.

“Do you know anyone in our neighborhood who might have a guinea pig as a pet?” Lizzy asked, watching Jane put a handful of the golden straw into the enclosure.

“I cannot think of any,” Jane admitted.

Lizzy frowned at her. “Were you not going driving with that nice Mr. Bingley this afternoon? Perhaps Jeffry belongs to him or his sister?”

“Miss Bingley has a cat,” Jane told her while she brushed the straw dust from her hands. “His name is Basile. Miss Bingley said it is a French name that means ‘royal’, or ‘kingly’, and he is a Chartreux.”

“One of those gray cats with the orange or yellow eyes?” Lizzy asked

“He is gray with orange eyes.”

“Goodness, I would like to meet him.”

Jane frowned. “He is nice enough, but Miss Bingley is his favorite. She said he follows her from room to room and insists on sitting beside her, or on her lap.” Harry approached and leaned his head against her leg. Jane patted him, smiling. “You are a much nicer animal, are you not, boy?”

Harry chuffed his agreement.

“I wish you could tell me where you found Jeffry,” Lizzy said.

Harry chuffed again and turned to pad across to the open doors. He looked back at them once.

“That is his signal that we should follow him,” Lizzy said, tucking her hand through Jane’s arm.

“I can only go to the end of the terrace,” Jane said, lifting her foot to show she wore light slippers.

“Hmm. Very well, I will follow him.” Lizzy released her arm.

“Shall I give Jeffry a bowl of water?” Jane asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

Once outside, Lizzy found Harry sitting and waiting for her at the edge of the terrace. Approaching, she expected him to begin walking again. Instead, he kept sitting there. She frowned at him, and he nosed the ground.

Lizzy crouched in front of him and pointed at the flagstone. “Here? Right here?”

A gardener old enough to be her father, leaning over a nearby vegetable bed, straightened. “Were y’speakin’ t’me, miss?”

Standing once more, she shook her head and said, “No, Andrew. I was speaking to Harry.” She waved at the bed. “The tops of those beetroots look tasty.”

“I thought yer animals would like ‘em,” Andrew said, grinning. “I’ll pick y’some.”

“Wonderful. Thank you.” Lizzy looked down at Harry once more. “I wonder how Jeffry came to be here?”

Harry stood and shook his whole body.

“Do you want to take a walk?” she asked.

He barked once and wriggled with excitement.

“I will just tell Jane we are going,” Lizzy said, turning back toward the orangery.