Page 101 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“Spiced, candied walnuts.”

“I like those as well,” Darcy said, approaching the nut counter. He purchased a small sack of the nuts and presented it to her as soon as they left the shop. “You carry this, and I will carry the basket.”

“Jeffry is gone,” Miss Elizabeth said, passing him the empty basket, taking the package, and laying her hand on his free arm.

“At least he did not disappear while you were showing him around. Let us put the nuts in his basket, if he will not use it.” He opened the basket and she put the package inside. “Where do you think he goes?”

“I sometimes find him at home—once in the middle of my bed—other times he is in his enclosure.”

“I wonder that we are so nonchalant about his strange ability,” Darcy mused. “Surely we should be claiming he got out of the basket when we looked the other way.”

Miss Elizabeth chuckled. “Though you may not think me so, I do have a strong sensible streak. Not so sensible that I cannot believe in magic, but too sensible to think he escaped when he was not out of our sight.”

Darcy nodded. “I have seen you with animals so I know you can be sensible. Though animals seem to love you, at the tea party, it appeared to me that Basile does not like you overmuch—but then he does not like many people.”

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowed. “He does not like me. I think he is jealous.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Of what?”

“Perhaps it is nothing specific. He may not like my scent.”

“As simple as that?”

“Most animals can smell much better than humans,” she assured him.

“But you have a delightful scent,” he claimed without thinking. Her cheeks reddened and she stared up at him. “I beg your pardon.”

“I…I think that was a complement?”

Darcy hesitated, but finally gave a sharp nod.

“Well, thank you kindly,” she said, beaming. “Nevertheless, Basile may dislike mine.”

Grasping at the return to the subject of the cat’s behavior, he said, “My cousin claims that Basile attempts to scratch his boots any chance he gets.”

Miss Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. “Basile may not like the smell of his blacking.”

“That may be. Basile is not the first cat who has tried to strike out at Douglas’ boots.”

“Perhaps he should change his blacking and see if it has an effect.”

Darcy guided her to pause tight to the hedgerow as a dray trundled close beside them on the road, carrying barrels. He waited until she could hear him speak, before saying, “I think Corporal Laman might have something to say about that. He prides himself on the gloss of his officer’s boots.”

“I imagine he does.” Miss Elizabeth joined him as they continued their walk along the lane, skirting the fallen chestnut shells where the fruit had burst open and no one had picked the nuts off the ground.

“Do you like chestnuts?” he asked.

“I do. Our cook boils them in syrup and makes a lovely sweetmeat out of them.” She paused and sighed. “We have reached the Grant farm and Jeffry has not returned to the basket. I suppose I shall have to ask him about missing guinea pigs another time.”

They continued on their way. Darcy matched his steps easily to her vigorous ones. “Will you be attending the comet-viewing party this evening at Lord and Lady Wulfrun’s?”

Miss Elizabeth played with the knot on her bonnet, saying, “My father, Jane, Mary, and I are going. My mother and my two youngest sisters are dining at my aunt’s in Meryton. They have no interest in astronomy. My uncle will see that they are returned home safely.”

“Is your father a close friend of Lord Wulfrun?”

“Yes. They correspond regularly. I am looking forward to our evening out together. Will you and Mr. Bingley be attending? And Miss Bingley, of course.”

“Yes. Georgiana is remaining at Netherfield with my cousin. She does not enjoy being out amongst company she does not know. Douglas will keep her entertained.”