Chapter 10 #2
“I want to hear from one person from every holding. I need to understand your most pressing needs.”
The crowd began to rise again in energy and people called out, but when Darcy raised a hand, they fell quiet.
“I shall feel obliged if each of you will await your turn, and come and shake my hand, one by one.
I shall not leave until I have spoken to everyone.
Tell me your greatest concern, and tell me what you are able to do to help your neighbour.
“Form a line, if you will, and Mr Stevenson shall keep an account of all that you ask for as you speak with me.”
Mr Stevenson was still outside; through the window Elizabeth saw he was in animated conversation with another man, and he then drove away in the wagon.
She saw Darcy turn and notice the same, and their eyes met.
He absolutely started at the sight of her, and she saw confusion be swiftly replaced by a powerful look of entreaty.
The throng’s restless energy grew as they realised the steward was gone; Darcy lost their attention. What might happen if we do not begin directly? It was a sickening feeling, and she was certain in that moment that it was only a fraction of what Darcy must be feeling.
Elizabeth nodded and sat at the table with all the authority she could muster and opened a notebook. No one came forward, and she opened the travelling inkwell set, carefully opened the lid, and dipped the quill in, her hand poised and her gaze steady, overlooking the crowd expectantly.
“Miss Bennet shall keep a record of all that you say, and I promise I will not leave until I have heard from everyone.” Darcy climbed down from the table, stood in front of it, and waited. Slowly, the last angry sensations in the room shifted to a calmer energy, and the people formed a rough line.
She might have thought that Darcy was unaccustomed, even reluctant, to have people touch him, but here were fifty tenants, villagers, and half-gentlemen all shaking his hand, some clapping his shoulder; sometimes he grasped an upper arm in sympathy.
Darcy remained in close conversation with each man, hearing his concern, his fear, his loss, and promising to do whatever he could for them.
Elizabeth dutifully wrote every name and circumstance, but she could not help but think that if she did not admire and love him before, Darcy certainly now had all the esteem and affection she had to give.
He cared deeply about everyone, and he had an innate quality of leadership.
She supposed it was so implicit that he rarely had to exert it.
She wondered if it came primarily from the strength of his character.
Two hours passed by the time each man had his time with the master of Pemberley and made his concerns known.
When there were only a few men left waiting to speak to Darcy, Mr Stevenson returned, and Elizabeth rose to let him take her place.
Darcy looked as though he was about to break away to speak to her, but she shook her head.
This is far more important. He gave her a grateful look, and then returned his attention to the man before him.
Outside, Mr Utterson was just getting on his horse, looking as though this final effort might exhaust him completely.
He appeared to be waiting for Mr Balfour, who was taking a long look at the mass of household items laid out in the street.
He bent down to look at a small object, turning it over in his hand.
“Come along, Balfour!” Mr Utterson called. “I want to make it back before I fall off this horse.”
“There is ever so much here,” his friend said as he joined them and slowly mounted his horse, still looking at the articles on the street. Mr Utterson sighed wearily. Both men seemed affected by the day.
How could anyone not be?
“I see Darcy has put you to use as well,” Mr Utterson said to Elizabeth in his dry way. “Do you regret not going to Scarborough with the others?”
“I happily put myself to use,” she said, not having the patience for his acerbity today.
Mr Balfour must have noticed because he said, “That is to your credit. And I know that Hester is glad to have your company. She is a little slower to make friends than I am.” He smiled. “She is smarter too, but you did not hear me confess it.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
He grinned knowingly. “Well, since you are staying at Pemberley, we shall work together to bear up Darcy.” Elizabeth nodded, feeling too much on that subject to speak.
“I have known him since not long before his father died, and even in those bleak days after his death, I did not see Darcy look so cast down as he was today.”
“You have known Mr Darcy a long time.”
Mr Balfour nodded. “Aye, and I know from experience he will need friends to cheer him so he does not dwell moodily on all of his trials.” He then forced a smile. “How are you getting to the house? Shall I walk with you? Utterson, did you not notice that Miss Bennet has no way back to Pemberley?”
Mr Utterson apparently did not notice, and looked impatient and only just willing to bend for the sake of politeness when he asked, “Should you like us to wait with you until Mr Stevenson is finished so he can bring you back in the wagon?”
Elizabeth firmly declined their offers to wait with her, find her a ride, or walk back with her.
She was content to walk the path from Lambton alone, and use the time to pass over all she had heard today.
Whilst she had not seen as much destruction as some, she had heard from the mouth of everyone affected by the disaster what pain, and what fear, struck them the deepest.
The sense of grief and woe I feel is nothing to the universal sorrow Darcy’s tenants are feeling.
After she arrived at the house, she sat in her room in contemplation for a long while before Carew entered to help her dress.
“I think something simple,” she said quietly when Carew opened the clothes press. “None of us shall be in the mood for finery tonight.”
Normally not one to have her authority challenged, Carew nodded knowingly and went about the business of helping her out of her gown, and each capable tug grated her ring against Elizabeth’s skin.
“You have a fine hoop ring.” Elizabeth refrained from asking if she scraped Miss Darcy with it.
“Miss Darcy does not mind my wearing it, and neither does Mr Darcy,” Carew said sharply, pulling up her sleeves and then tying the laces tightly. “They know I am not above myself.”
“None of us think that.” A lady’s maid, after all, was a valued and senior position, and she answered only to Miss Darcy. Unless her brother asks her to let her maid tend to his friend’s sister-in-law. “And none of them would begrudge you for wearing it.”
“That may be true, but others might.”
To show that she was not such a person, Elizabeth asked, “May I admire it?”
Carew was surprised, but gave a prim little smile and held out her hand.
The ring had a delicate split shank and five pieces of pinkish orange coral set very high.
That accounted for the light scrapes against her skin whilst Carew worked.
The oval coral in the centre was larger than the ones surrounding it. “It is lovely.”
“It belonged to my mother. She was a maid at Pemberley as I said, before she married. My father bought this for her, and she wore it every day until she died.”
Now that she was dressed, the maid turned her by the shoulders, firmly pushed her forward, and then pressed her into a chair and set to work on her hair. It seemed that whilst Carew was caring, sentimental even, her sternness and efficiency would swiftly overrule any excessive tenderness.
“You said your father lives in the village? How is his home?”
“Hardly any water came in under the door, but his tools were in a shed and many were ruined or washed away. He is better off than many.” Elizabeth remembered her saying her father was Pemberley’s carpenter.
“I shall go to him tomorrow and see how I might help. I suspect he will only want my company. Miss Darcy has said to take as much liberty as I please.”
“It is likely to rain in the morning; I heard the farmers talking about it in Lambton. You ought to wear my wool pelisse.”
“No, I only just cleaned it for you to wear, ma’am.” The hairbrush tugged her head with every pull. At least the coral ring never got tangled in her hair.
“You will get it less dirty than I will.” That Carew did not argue spoke to the truth of the matter. “I do not intend to go walking tomorrow, and you already agreed to borrow it. Do not force me to bring the Darcys into it,” she added with a laugh.
“Very well, ma’am. For the convenience of the Darcys.”
When her hair was dressed, Carew appraised her and said, even whilst wearing her typical stern look, “You will do.” She curtseyed and turned to the door.
“Carew,” she called, and then went to the wardrobe to take out her pelisse. “You shall need this if it is cool. Take it now, I insist. Enjoy your visit with your father, and thank you for all of your help since I have been at Pemberley.”
Elizabeth saw in her large blue eyes that she felt more grateful than the quiet “Thank you” she expressed.
It was time to go to the dining room, but when he had to descend the stairs, Darcy allowed himself to be distracted and walked into his father’s room.
It was really an anteroom to a larger space with an arched doorframe at both its entrance and the one into the adjoining room.
It was now most often used as a quick passage to get to the stairs.
He looked out the window at the gardens.
His head gardener had asked him what he wanted done once the ground was cleared and they could replant.
Who could be concerned with an ornamental garden when a mountain of water and debris carried people away? And also household goods, crops, livestock; so much was lost.