Page 64 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“Carrot peelings, too,” Jill added, sounding satisfied. “And beet greens.”

Jeffry’s peace disappeared as each animal became aware of their food. He sighed and continued to eat, contemplating his next move. Things seemed to be coming along well. Lizzy and Darcy’s ride later in the day would give them ample opportunity to get to know each other better. Yes, I am well satisfied with my endeavor. Aunty will be pleased.

A presence loomed over him. Jeffry looked up at Lizzy, who had crouched beside his enclosure.

“Good morning, Jeffry,” she said, smiling kindly at him. “I see Peter has been in to clean the enclosures and pens. I hope you appreciate him.”

I do. I do.

“Good. Also, I know where there is a puppy for Georgiana. This afternoon, I will persuade Mr. Darcy to look in on the family who have the extra puppies. If he likes them, he can return with Georgiana and see which one is the right one for her.”

Excellent, Jeffry thought.

“You approve? Thank you,” she said, reaching out to stroke his back.

Jeffry did not usually like being touched while he ate, but he forbore to complain since the gesture had been kindly meant. In fact, he found himself purring in reaction.

“Jane is going to market this morning,” Lizzy told him. “With Mr. Bingley.”

Of course she is going with Bingley. Why is that couple so easy to steer toward each other while we must interfere with Lizzy and Darcy every time?

“I wish Miss Bingley had a nicer personality,” she said, resting her chin on her hand. “If Jane should marry him, she must endure her new sister-in-law’s company.” Sighing first, she added, “But, then, Jane is the most easygoing creature.”

Darcy is charming…Jeffry mentally prompted.

“It would be nice for Mr. Darcy if he were more charming,” Lizzy mused. “He has a rather forthright disposition. I imagine it causes him some trouble making friends.”

Humph!

“I like that in him,” she confessed. “Even though charming people make friends more easily, and often get their own way, I do not suppose that is always healthy for them.”

Jeffry wheeked in an encouraging way. I suppose he does not need to be charming.

“Lizzy?” Mary called from behind her. “Are you talking to that guinea pig again?”

Lizzy swiveled and looked up at her as she moved along the path between enclosures and pens. “I am. Are you going to market this morning?”

“I am. I wish to see if there are some different periodicals on offer so I can purchase them to read to the patients at the infirmary on tomorrow.”

“I am also going. Are you walking there?” Lizzy asked, rising and facing her.

“Indeed. Do you wish to go together?” Mary asked, sounding almost challenging, as though expecting Lizzy to say no.

“I will come with you.” Lizzy approached and took her arm, squeezing it in a companionable way. “I am delighted to have your company. Are we ready to eat?”

“We are,” Mary said, turning with her toward the orangery basin. She glanced around. “Have you already been out with Harry?”

“I have. I awoke early, and we took a romp through the gathering day,” Lizzy told Mary. “It was so clear, I saw the comet again.” They paused for Lizzy to wash her hands. Over her shoulder, she said, “Harry is outside, sleeping in the sun.”

“I thought as much,” Mary murmured. Then, she issued one of her many quotes. “Rumi said, ‘The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Do not go back to sleep.’”

“I like that one,” Lizzy claimed, drying her hands. She took her sister’s arm again, and they strolled toward the orangery door. “Who is Rumi?”

“He was a Sufi mystic, and a poet, born in 1207. Papa has a collection of his poetry in his bookroom—translated into English, as you would expect.”

“I see,” Lizzy murmured. “Perhaps I will read his poems, if you recommend them to me.”

“I do.” Mary dryly added, “But you will not read them.”