Page 44 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

The butler led them up the stairs, and the closer they got to the cat, the more he seemed to look down on them.

“He is the king of this castle,” Lizzy observed. She bowed her head to the cat as they reached him. “Your majesty.”

“I see you have been honored by Basile’s regard, miss,” Brewster said, pausing until all the Bennets had reached the corridor at the top of the first flight of stairs.

“He is exceedingly handsome,” Lizzy observed. She leaned over to see if he would let her pet him. However, he only had eyes for her reticule. His eyes narrowed, and he batted it. Lizzy leaned even closer to the cat and whispered to him. “You leave my reticule alone, sire. It has a guinea pig inside whom I think is magical. You will not wish to cross him, I assure you.”

“Le meow,” Basile said, twitching his nose and backing away a step, appearing both surprised and wary.

Lizzy chuckled and straightened.

“Are you quite finished communing with that animal?” her mother hissed.

“Yes, Mama,” Lizzy said, smiling at her annoyed parent.

Her mother sniffed and indicated that Brewster should proceed. They soon reached the drawing room, discovering it contained guests whom they knew. Bowls of colorful chrysanthemums dotted the room. Brewster announced them and withdrew. Miss Bingley approached and curtsied slightly. The Bennet sisters curtsied, but Mrs. Bennet merely nodded, smiling widely.

“Welcome to my little tea salon,” Miss Bingley said—a trifle stiffly, Lizzy thought. “Pray, come in and enjoy the company.”

“Thank you, Miss Bingley,” Mama said. She indicated her daughters. “I know you are acquainted with our Jane and Lizzy, but I am not certain if you have met my three youngest daughters, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia.”

Miss Bingley nodded to the younger sisters, who nodded back.

“Look, Maria is here,” Lydia said, grabbing Kitty’s arm. “Excuse us, Miss Bingley. We see a particular friend of ours.”

Miss Bingley waved them toward the room. Lydia and Kitty raced away, making no attempt at decorous walking. Their mother spied one of her friends and hurried away, leaving Lizzy and her two remaining sisters standing beside Miss Bingley.

“Excuse me, Miss Bingley,” Lizzy said, drawing her hostess’ gaze. “We just met your cat, Basile. I must say, he is gorgeous.”

“Thank you. He is French, a Chartreux.”

“Yes, indeed. And he meows in French, too,” Lizzy observed. “His eye color is most striking.”

“I quite agree,” Miss Bingley said in a warmer voice. “I understand you have many animals. Do you count a cat amongst them?”

“We have barnyard cats,” Lizzy explained, “but no housecat. I do not think a cat could be kept from my menagerie in our orangery, which includes birds and rodents.”

“Lizzy has a guinea pig now,” Mary mentioned as she clutched tightly to the strings of her reticule. “Do you know anyone who is missing their pet guinea pig, Miss Bingley?”

Their hostess turned her implacable stare on Mary. “I do not think I have ever seen one, and I do not know anyone who owns such an animal. Not here, nor anywhere else.”

“That is a shame,” Jane chimed in. “He is quite friendly, and his owner must miss him terribly.”

Lizzy’s heart warmed at the solidarity her sisters displayed on her behalf. “If you would like to meet Jeffry, I can show him to you when you visit us.”

From her expression, I doubt Miss Bingley will ever visit us if she has a choice.

“I am looking forward to trying a new tea blend,” Mary said, stepping into the silence that followed Lizzy’s promised treat. “What blend is it?”

“Congou,” Miss Bingley said. “Excuse me, ladies.”

Lizzy and her sisters watched Miss Bingley leave them to greet some newcomers.

“Pardon me, ladies,” a male voice said from behind them.

Mr. Darcy. My, his voice is nice—like honeyed milk tea.

The three sisters turned as one and curtsied to Mr. Darcy. He had a well-formed, attractive young woman on his arm, who appeared to be Kitty or Mary’s age. She had the advantage in height to even Lydia. Mr. Darcy bowed, and his companion curtsied.