Windswept: A Pride & Prejudice Variation

Chapter 17

Miss Bingley deserved the comeuppance delivered by Mrs. Bennet. The more Darcy learned of Elizabeth’s family, including the matron, the more he realized how much his first impressions were flawed. He never would have guessed that Mrs. Bennet’s personality contained a facet where she spoke intelligently in a regulated tone. Still, he could not countenance her treatment of her second daughter. Nothing was said or done to acknowledge Miss Elizabeth’s heroic efforts.

“Mr. Darcy, I believe it is Miss Bingley who has soot on her nose, not my mother.”

He blinked, unaware that he had been staring while he contemplated the events of the past minutes.

“Yes, you are correct, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Was that hard for you to admit?”

He smiled, grateful for her tease. “Not at all.”

“Miss Elizabeth.” Darcy dipped his head to address her alone. “I am concerned how the ladies will respond once daylight breaks. The damage from the storm will be visible through the windows. Where my first instinct is to cover them, the incoming light will brighten everyone’s spirits. Additionally, all of us are weary. Mrs. Hammond’s lack of sleep must be taxing her. Nonetheless, I have yet to see her display anything other than alertness.”

Miss Elizabeth nodded when Richard joined them.

“If I might make a recommendation, Darcy? With the instability of the wind, should it turn completely and blow hard against this side of the house, anyone standing close to the windows is in danger. We might consider setting the fireplace screens upon small tables between us and the glass. That way there will be diffused light entering the room even as the screens might protect us from flying shards of glass.”

Darcy immediately approved his cousin’s idea. Returning to the cellar to get help, Darcy started to follow. Turning back, he asked Elizabeth, “Is there anything else that could add to the ladies’ comfort?”

“I suspect that the mothers will gather their daughters like hens to their chicks. Mr. Hurst and Colonel Forster should provide a resting place for their wives. This will leave Netherfield’s female servants, Mrs. Hammond, Miss Bingley, Jane, and myself. The men in the wine cellar, including my father’s cousin, Mr. Collins, should be able to care for themselves, am I correct?”

He grinned. “Did you refrain from listing Richard and myself on purpose, Miss Elizabeth?”

She smiled at him. “While I may have concerns about the others, I am confident that you and your cousin are both resourceful and cautious. Him because of successfully returning to England with his regiment intact, and you because you have not failed one time to put the welfare of others ahead of your own since the wind started blowing.”

Her kind words released a flood of gratitude somewhere deep in his chest. Her mother may not have recognized her value, but he did.

While Elizabethand Jane distributed blankets to the ladies, they inquired about the condition of their welfare. Mrs. Long, Lady Lucas, and their mother appeared to compete with each other, claiming they endured more miseries.

“Oh, Lizzy, no one knows what I suffer,” came Mrs. Bennet’s oft repeated words.

Mrs. Long surprised Elizabeth with her complaints.

She sniffed. “This chair is hard. Dinner was more than two hours past. As far away from the fire as I am sitting, I am frightfully cold. Additionally, this being the first private ball attended by my girls, they will not have fine memories to take out and cherish in years to come. Why, I wish we were all tucked up in our beds in our own house.” She stood abruptly. “In fact, I shall call for my carriage this instant. It is long past time for us to return to Alderwood.”

“But Mrs. Long…” Elizabeth began only to cease any attempts at reasoning when Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and four footmen entered the room.

“Sir,” Mrs. Long appealed to Mr. Darcy. “I beg you to have our carriage readied. We would like to go home.” For as long as Elizabeth had known the Longs, she had never known her to be particularly demanding. Frayed nerves and exhaustion were taking their toll.

The colonel held up his hand, stopping everyone from speaking. “Neighbors, until the wind abates, the only safe place now is gathered in this room. The choice to make this circumstance miserable or tolerable is up to each one of you. After spending two years with a regiment of men, I am aware that it takes only one to drain the spirits of everyone. Therefore, I pray that all carefully consider the mere fact that joining forces with quick obedience may be the difference between survival or not. For the safety of others, no one will leave this house.”

Mr. Collins topped the stairs with his hair disheveled and his mouth open. “Like the lady, I, too, am eager to return to Longbourn, for I am concerned about the condition of my future inheritance. My patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, expects me to survey the property for any needed repairs so I can encourage the current master to make them before his demise. It would not do for me to use my own funds paid by Lady Catherine to improve my situation. As the future mistress of Longbourn, my cousin Miss Elizabeth should attend me.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam moved to stand in front of Mr. Collins. “Sir, since you chose not to partake of the wine, I cannot blame your rudeness on anything other than your attitude. Know this! Any efforts to stir up insurrection in the ranks will be quashed immediately. If you would but listen to the wind outside you would know how much peril you would be placing yourself, the driver, and the horses in should you make the attempt. My cousin will not order your equipage to be made ready, and neither will I.”

Elizabeth was astonished at Mr. Collins’s effrontery. There had been no offer, and she certainly had never accepted him. Planting her fisted hands on her hips, Elizabeth prepared to defend herself against the blatant liar.

Mrs. Long’s hand covered her quivering lips before she pulled her daughters closer. Lady Lucas did the same with Charlotte and Maria. Mr. Collins spluttered to himself before returning to the cellar. The colonel moved to speak with Jane while Elizabeth stood alone.

Miss Elizabeth’scousin planned to marry her? Had he offered and been accepted? Her narrowed eyes, furrowed brow, lips pressed together, chin jutted out, and stiff shoulders informed Darcy more than words that Miss Elizabeth was not privy to her cousin’s plans. Nor was she agreeable. Thank god! Although why that should concern him, he had not a clue, for had he not already decided before the storm hit that he would leave Hertfordshire, never to return?

He sighed. Obviously, the storm had different plans. Instead of departing at daybreak for London, he would be forced into company with the temptress for who knew how long. Yet, he was not displeased.

Richard interrupted his musing.

“We need four screens for the windows in the kitchen and pantry. Be cautious, men. The potential for harm is great. With the force of the wind, flying glass shards could cause deadly injury.”

Retrieving the chatelain from the housekeeper, he gave it to one of the footmen so he could unlock the doors; Darcy and Richard surveyed the damage as they went from the kitchen to the dining room and then into the ballroom. The rising sun bounced off the shards of glass remaining in the lower corners of the windows and littering the floor. Paintings hung helter-skelter or rested at the base of the wall while pots of hot-house flowers were strewn across the floor. In the ballroom, the large chandelier in the center of the room was scattered across the hardwood flooring. However, the worst damage was to the side of the house, containing the front drawing room, the music room, and the gallery. The wooden walls and framework collapsed in on itself from the sheer force of the wind and hail. Pounding rain poured into the rooms, soaking the carpets and the overturned furniture. When a gust almost pulled the door handle out of Darcy’s grip, he called to the others to retreat.

“This whole section of the house, including the bed chambers above, is unsafe,” Darcy yelled above the storm. “Since there are no shutters outside the kitchen windows, let us pull the curtains from the dining room and return to the safety of the kitchen. If the thick fabric can be layered, we might have enough protection until the ladies can be moved elsewhere.”

Only one screen and table, along with four pairs of long velvet panels, could be retrieved from the dining room windows. Richard directed the placement of the screen in front of the kitchen door.

“Mrs. Hammond, your assistance, please.” Darcy left the curtains on the table. Without needing to give further instruction, the elderly widow folded each panel into a rectangle the width and height of the three remaining windows.

Mrs. Hammond stood at attention before barking her first command. “Miss Lucas, Miss Bennet, Miss Long, and Miss Sally, pray take a panel so you may stitch a seam on each side until they are held together. Do not worry about straight edges since the priority is speed and stability. If we might call upon the housekeeper for supplies, any other willing hands to help complete the task would be greatly appreciated.”

Three of the housemaids and Miss Elizabeth stepped forward. When Miss Elizabeth picked up one of the curtains, the fabric rubbing against her blisters forced her to put the cloth back on the table.

Mrs. Hammond must have witnessed her disappointment, for she added, “Miss Lizzy, pray keep an eye on the work so you can let the men know as soon as the first panel is done. That way, no time is wasted in seeing to our safety.”

With a slight smile, Miss Elizabeth stood at the corner of the table, her gaze moving from one seamstress to the next.

Everyone must know that the fabric would be little protection against flying glass. Yet, the task united them by giving them a purpose.

Miss Lucas was the first to finish her panel. She immediately moved to help the person seated next to her as Miss Elizabeth directed a footman to the modified window covering. Next, Miss Bennet completed her project. Like Miss Lucas, she turned to the maid beside her to finish the final seam. Within a matter of minutes, two curtains folded into eight layers were nailed to the window frames, darkening the room. The diffused light from the rising sun coming through the fireplace screen barely filtered into the room.

Mrs. Hammond praised the ladies’ quick work. “The night has been long, dear neighbors. If we might beg a fortifying cup of tea from Cook, then perhaps we might rest for a bit.”

“I want to go home,” Miss Kitty cried, the first sound Darcy recalled her making since they gathered in the kitchen.

“I know, dear girl. You are not alone in wanting the security of your own bed.” Mrs. Hammond patted the girl’s shoulder. “Do remember that those of us who are from our part of Hertfordshire are strong and hearty people. We are practical enough to know we cannot control the wind, nor can we outrun it. We are imaginative enough to ponder trying, though. And we are wise enough to know that patience is a virtue and that working together makes us mighty. Remember, dear, our current trial is temporary. This storm will end.”

Darcy appreciated the reminder as much as the ladies. Every ordeal he faced since the death of his father eventually ended, except for Wickham. With him in the area, Darcy would never be at ease. He would always need to be on guard. He would never have peace. Yet the idea of Wickham not being alive somewhere tormented him. How could one person be responsible for so much misery and uncertainty?

Richard approached. “All the men in the wine cellar except for Bingley and Parker are snoring. Forster and his wife are asleep in the largest chair.” He shook his head. “That little tart he wed has no guilt over cuckolding her mate with one of his regiment.” Rubbing his palms over his face, he sighed, “It makes a man consider seriously who he marries.”

Darcy agreed. “An intelligent man would learn the character of his wife-to-be, whether loyalty and dignity were her nature under any situation.”

“There are no guarantees, Darcy.” Richard squared his shoulders as his eyes shot to Miss Bennet and back. “Nonetheless, it has been said that the measure of a man is determined by how he responds when under trial. I believe the same can be said of a woman. Look at that youngest Bennet as an example. Downstairs, Captain Carter described her as having nothing of substance between her ears. Yet, look how she responded to her trial. Why, had most ladies needed their curls cut off, they would have wept and wailed. That little lady proved she had some mettle by lifting her chin and daring anyone to make a negative comment. Mrs. Bennet is desperate for attention, yet when one of her offspring was verbally attacked, she became a tigress instead of the weak-willed female I assumed her to be. Already, I see how protective and loyal Miss Elizabeth is with her family, Mrs. Hammond, and her neighbors. I suspect that by the time the wind dies down, we shall know enough about everyone in this building to know whether any are worthy of attaching ourselves to for a lifetime. Do you not agree?”

Darcy could not keep from resting his eyes on Miss Elizabeth, who was helping Mrs. Hammond back to her chair. Was he wrong to judge her as unworthy due to her status, especially now that he was learning facets of her family that were not as offensive as he once believed? Would she prove to be faithful, a complement to his position?

Closing his eyes briefly, they flew open when Richard slapped him on the back. “Perhaps it is the men who need to prove their mettle under this trial, Darcy.”

Unsettled, Darcy replied with the only thing that came to mind, “Perhaps.”